by Lia London
“What do you mean? When is it happening?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I leave every day about this time, and for the last three days in a row, there’s been a shiny red apple sitting on the corner of my desk when I get there in the morning.”
“Aw, that’s sweet.” He waved at departing students. “Just like in the old days.”
“Aw, that’s creepy, more like it,” she countered. “Just like in Snow White.”
Ross chuckled. “Suspicious little thing, aren’t you?”
Nikki grinned. “You never know. Some kid might have it in for me because I lowered his GPA.”
“Okay, I’ll be sure to keep an eye on fruit-bearing prowlers in the hall after hours, but I only stay until four.”
Nikki glanced down at her watch. “Oh, so you’re off in twenty minutes? Nice.”
“Yep.” He held the door open for the biology teacher, who carried a large diorama that vaguely resembled a plant cell undergoing photosynthesis.
“And then what?” she asked. Why am I standing here chatting instead of going home?
“Gilligan’s Island re-runs on cable, I guess.”
Nikki snorted. “Seriously?”
“Would you believe it?”
She studied him, a smile blooming on her face. He somehow managed to blend strength and innocence. “I should join you for a marathon of oldies someday.”
“Sounds great,” he said, his eyes lingering on hers for just a moment before he looked away. “So what do you do with all the apples?”
“I’ve been a little afraid to eat them,” she said.
“Well, if you need a royal taster, you can bring them to me. I have a cast iron constitution, and I love apples.”
Nikki took a mental note. “Any special kind?”
“A manly man should never admit this, but Pink Lady apples are my favorite.”
Nikki descended the steps. “Some scary cop you are, Officer Ross. Pink Ladies and Gilligan?”
He nodded with exaggerated defeat. “That’s why they won’t let me cover the middle school. Too dangerous.”
“All right, sir. See you tomorrow. And don’t forget to keep an eye on my room.”
“Always.”
“Hello, stranger,” said Ben the Almighty Assistant Manager of Produce. “How’ve you been?”
Nikki eyed him as she bagged a bundle of green onions. “Since when were you nice to me?”
“Since you quit working here and stopped stealing my radishes.” He sorted cauliflower for a moment and said, “You look good. Really good.”
“Oh, don’t you start,” she growled.”
“What? I’m not your fat admirer. I’m just saying you clean up good. Take the apron and hairnet off, and you’re almost presentable.”
“Har har.” Inwardly, she smiled at the compliment. It was nice not to be grungy all the time. She realized that all supermarket workers must look more appealing in civilian clothes. Janna sure did. She was a bona fide hottie. “Hey, do we have any Pink Lady apples?”
“Not many,” he said, waving an empty box at her before flattening it against his chest. “Over there. They’re sweet, but not so pretty.”
“Like me,” she quipped, and went to look at the apples. They had a good color, but the remaining apples had probably all fallen to the ground at least twice. “What’s the difference with these, anyway?” she called to Ben. “Why do they cost so much more?”
“Taste ’em. They’re worth it. Really crisp. Really sweet.”
Nikki shrugged and grabbed the two least mangled apples, bagging them swiftly before heading over to the deli to check in on Janna.
“Hey, girl. You got the wrong name tag. It says Manager!”
Janna beamed at her, leaning her elbows on the hot case. “It comes with the wrong paycheck, too. Two hundred bucks a week bigger!”
“Hey, that’s awesome! You got the promotion. Then you can afford to take me out.” Nikki pointed at the sandwich fixings. “Turkey and pastrami on whole wheat, please.”
“Nikki, you know how annoying special orders are. Like I don’t have enough to do back here.”
“I’ll make it worth your while. Lemme tell you the latest on the coach, the cop, and now I’ve got a secret admirer with an apple fetish.”
“Career Day? Are you kidding me?”
“I’m afraid so, Nikki.” Gayle dropped the memo on Nikki’s desk.
“Oh well, I guess I’ll just skip Poe.” She shook her head.
“You’ve got the system down!” cheered Gayle sarcastically.
“Tell me again why they can’t get a P.E. teacher to do my job?”
Gayle clucked her tongue. “Because P.E. teachers get paid more.”
Nikki narrowed her eyes and scowled up at Gayle. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Have you seen Will’s car?”
Remembering the shiny, new, cherry red Mustang convertible with all the fixings, Nikki frowned. “I thought maybe that was him going into astronomical debt to draw attention from his bald spot.”
Gayle headed out the door. “Katie says it’s paid for.” With a gleam in her eye, she leaned back in. “I forgot to ask you at lunch. Did you see the pictures from Homecoming on the school website yet?”
“Huh? No. How could they take pictures in there? It was so dark. And the sound waves would have shattered all the lenses.”
“Oh, they got a few good ones,” sang Gayle, waving dainty fingers over her shoulder.
Nikki glanced over at her computer and wondered if she should check before school started. She tapped a few quick keys and scrolled down to see a picture of the Homecoming King and Queen, a shot of the dancers in the center ring, and… a picture of her and Ross doing their mean, pouty poses at the edge of the stage! The caption read, Bummed they didn’t get chosen as this year’s Homecoming royalty? Both embarrassed and amused, Nikki covered her mouth and stared at the shot, wide-eyed. She had to give props to the photographer for capturing them right as the glitter cloud descended. It was a very funny picture, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to live it down.
The last few students ambled in, and the bell rang. As Nikki stood from her desk, still grinning about the picture, Amanda walked in reeking of alcohol.
“That’s a mighty potent perfume you’ve got on there, Miss Zane.”
Amanda turned watery eyes on her. “Do you recognize it? It’s my favorite.” She headed for her seat and sat down, immediately sinking her head to the desk.
“Amanda?” called Nikki quietly. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she was unsure of what to do.
“Don’t be a buzz kill,” grumbled Amanda.
This child certainly knew how to chase away the last of Nikki’s patience. With a nod to her regular attendance taker, she went to the front of the room and signaled for quiet. Improvising quickly, she said, “With Career Day coming up tomorrow, we’re going to switch gears for a moment. You’ve got a ten-minute free-write on where you think you’ll be career-wise in ten years. Be specific. You should be able to get at least 100 words.” When they groaned at her, she said, “Good. I’ll be right back. I forgot something in the office.”
Out in the hall, she looked left and right, wishing Officer Ross were nearby. Minors in possession of alcohol were his jurisdiction, right? Not spotting him, she half trotted, half shuffled—trying to keep her heels quiet—around the corner and down to the main office.
“Katie!” she called in a hoarse whisper, leaning over the counter. “Katie, I’ve got a girl I’m 99% sure is drunk. What do I do?”
The secretary held up a finger, and grabbed a walkie-talkie. Handing it to Nikki, she said, “That sounds great.”
Nikki took the walkie-talkie, but stared dumbfounded at Katie.
Katie smiled up at her. “Wish I could come with you.”
“What?!” asked Nikki.
“Bye now!” Katie tapped the Bluetooth in her ear and flipped
up the tiny wire mic that hung so invisibly at her chin that Nikki had forgotten it was there. “Now what was that you said? One of the kids has drugs?”
“Booze. Some fruity cooler or beer, I’m guessing. I’m not a drinker myself, so I’m not sure.”
“Need Officer Ross to come down?”
“Yes, please. That’d be helpful. Is that the protocol?”
“Dial him. It’s #5. He’ll come running.”
“Thanks,” said Nikki, studying the controls and preparing to dial.
“Unless he’s still sulking about not being Homecoming King.” Katie winked.
Nikki narrowed her eyes in mock anger, but instead burst out laughing. “That was your doing!”
“I just post ’em. I don’t take ’em.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Or pose for ’em. Hurry up and call him before your drunk gets away!”
Two minutes later, Nikki and Officer Ross stood outside room 31 with Amanda.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Officer,” said Amanda, all smiley. “This…” She glared at Nikki and let fly a few unsavory words. “She’s always got it out for me.”
“What?” Nikki could not believe her ears. The swearing didn’t bother her as much as the accusation. “I have never singled you out for discipline before.”
“Um, every other day,” said Amanda.
“Because you’re tardy? That’s standard procedure to ask for a tardy slip, Amanda. I know Coach has them in his desk, so you could ask him for one if he’s holding you late after class so often.”
Ross raised a finger. “You have P.E. before this?”
“Yeah,” said Amanda, turning away from Nikki.
“And Coach keeps you after class?”
Amanda avoided eye contact. “You know how he is. Talks too much.”
Ross glanced at Nikki. “Is this a chronic problem? The tardies?”
“Yes, Officer,” said Nikki, trying to sound official.
“Does she frequently come to class smelling so sweet?” he asked. Amanda shifted uncomfortably.
Nikki hesitated. “This is the first time I was sure I recognized her…aroma, but there have been other times I suspected.”
“That’s a lie!” roared Amanda. Another stream of obscenities poured out.
Ross took her arm gently. “All right then, let’s just get you down to the office where we can talk about this in a civilized way. Thank you, Mrs. Fallon. We won’t be needing you anymore.”
Amanda jerked her arm away, but followed him down the hall. “I thought you were cool, Ross,” she muttered.
“That’s enough, young lady.”
They rounded the corner leaving Nikki shivering with nerves.
Nikki stood outside of Mr. Geoffreys’ office wondering if she should knock when the door swung open and Officer Ross looked at her grimly. “Ah, you’re here. Good.” He stepped back to let her in, and she entered warily.
“Hi, Nikki,” said Mr. Geoffreys. “This is Susan Black, one of our school counselors. Not sure if you’ve met.”
Nikki shook hands with the frazzled woman who more resembled kindergarten wrestling referee than a high school counselor. Her gray, wispy hair only thought about staying clasped, and her over-sized sweater hung almost to her knees. Ms. Black smiled thinly, her foot tapping impatiently.
Mr. Geoffreys took the cue. “Susan has just been telling me about Amanda Zane and some things she’s learned. When I met with her, she had quite a few bad things to say about you—”
Nikki gurgled with hurt surprise, but Mr. Geoffreys raised a hand. “Since then, we’ve figured out it’s not about you.”
“Huh?”
“Have a seat, Nikki,” said Mr. Geoffreys. She lowered herself slowly into the hard wooden chair beside Ms. Black, and a slow smile spread across the principal’s face. “You’re not in trouble, Nikki. You look like you were the one sent to my office for drinking in the locker room.”
She let a nervous laugh escape and cast a quick glance at Ross. He smiled at her encouragingly and leaned against the window sill nearest her.
Ms. Black tilted her body to address Nikki and Mr. Geoffreys at the same time. “It turns out that our Miss Zane has trouble at home.”
“No surprise,” muttered Nikki. “Just look at the way she dresses.”
“No, it’s not a surprise,” agreed Mr. Geoffreys.
Ms. Black frowned. Her voice seemed to pinch. “Except that it is a surprise. Despite her appearance, Amanda has typically done decently well in school, and rarely gets in trouble.”
Nikki felt admonished. “Sorry.” She sighed. I’m profiling the kids. “So why the trouble in my class?”
“Mommy Trouble.” Ms. Black tried to smooth her hair and failed.
“Mommy Trouble?”
Ross cleared his throat. “That girl has been through four—count ’em—four stepmothers in the last six years. Some legally wed, others not. But they have a record of being about as nice as they are durable.”
“Ah,” said Nikki, starting to see the light. “And Daddy?”
“Pretty much absent,” said Ms. Black. “As far as we can tell, he’s a real piece of work himself. Good-looking enough to catch the women with the sole purpose of having them be Amanda’s nanny while he goes out with other women.”
Nikki blinked slowly. “Oh. My. That poor kid. Those poor women!”
“Yes, it’s horrendous. Susan’s looking into Child Protective Services,” said Mr. Geoffreys. “When we asked her about school and checked in with her other teachers, we found you were the only one she had conflict with.” Before Nikki could say anything, he added, “You were also the only woman.”
“Amanda doesn’t like female authority figures,” said Ms. Black. “It’s not you. It’s her past. She’s not crazy about me either, but we’ve had very few dealings. Like I said, she hasn’t been a problem.”
Nikki furrowed her brows. “Are you telling me she hasn’t had any other female teachers in her whole high school career?”
Ms. Black shrugged. “She transferred in as a sophomore. She tends to take the more stereotypical boyish classes. Mechanics, Wood Shop…”
“With male teachers.”
“Well, you have a good rapport with most students, and that can be very helpful,” said Mr. Geoffreys. “But in the case of Amanda, it’s not enough.”
“So what do we do?” asked Nikki.
“Well, right now she’s suspended from school for three weeks, during which time she has to take a drug and alcohol counseling course through the district.”
“Okay, about that,” said Nikki. “How is it none of the other teachers have smelled the booze?”
Mr. Geoffreys glanced at Officer Ross, who shook his head. “It must be happening in the class right before yours.”
Nikki stiffened. “That’d be P.E. with Will.”
Ross nodded.
“You don’t think—”
“No, Will’s not giving her beer,” said Mr. Geoffreys.
“But he does let her go down to the locker room a few minutes early sometimes when she begs, and it turns out she’s been stashing things in her gym locker.”
Nikki looked at Ms. Black. “So what happens when she comes back?”
“Amanda will need you and her other teachers to send along assignments for her to work on.”
“She didn’t work in class. Why would she work at home?”
Mr. Geoffreys shrugged. “She might not. But we have to give her the chance. She was maintaining B’s and C’s in the other classes. Not terrible.”
Ms. Black stood. “When she comes back, I suggest we all meet together with her and see if we can’t help her stop painting you with the same brush as her wicked step-mothers.” She slipped out the door, and Nikki could almost imagine her going to an office filled with strange, magical curios.
Mr. Geoffreys glanced at his watch. “You’d better go. Thanks for staying late.”
Ross moved q
uickly and scooted her chair back for her to stand. She dared a glance up and noticed again how his eyes sparkled with genuine kindness. With a nod, she slipped out of the room.
Katie looked up with curiosity all over her face. “Everything okay?” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Yeah, I guess I got that girl suspended. She’ll hate me even more now.”
Katie was about to answer, but her eyes shifted to see Ross exiting the principal’s office.
He came up behind Nikki and leaned in. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job. She’s just a troubled kid. It’s not your fault she doesn’t like you.”
Nikki smiled sadly. “I know. I just feel bad that I can’t seem to connect with her.”
He patted her lightly on the arm. “You’ll find a way. Don’t worry.” He moved past the counter with a wave at Katie. “In the meantime, Mrs. Fallon, just remember that the rest of us think you’re wonderful.” He backed out the door with a parting smile, and Nikki couldn’t look away until the door closed.
“Mmmmmm. I’m telling,” sang Katie.
Nikki snapped her focus to the secretary, hoping that the inexplicable longing she felt didn’t show on her face. “What? What’d I do now?”
“For a newlywed, you sure have wandering eyes.”
Nikki blanched. “What? I’m not scoping out his bod!”
“Nope,” said Katie. “You’re scoping out his soul.” She looked at Nikki pointedly. “And he’s got the sweetest one in town. No wife to keep him busy, so he spends all his time volunteering for stuff.”
Nikki gazed over at the door where he’d left and could envision his smile. She looked down at the fake wedding ring on her finger with disdain before meeting Katie’s eyes. “I’m not a cheater.”
“I know, hon. I’m just teasing you.”
“You have druggies in your class?”
“Ma, it’s one girl.” Nikki had opted to put her mother on speaker phone. It had the advantage of leaving her hands free to unload the dishwasher, but it meant there was no protection from the shrill nagging.
