The Final Lesson Plan

by Bright, Deena

  Copyright © 2013 by Deena Bright

  Interior design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owner.

  All rights reserved.

  This is Fiction

  July 31

  Sunday, July 1

  Monday, July 2

  Tuesday, July 3

  Wednesday, July 4

  Thursday, July 5

  Friday, July 6

  Saturday, July 7

  Sunday, July 8

  Monday, July 9

  Wednesday, July 11

  Thursday, July 12

  Friday, July 13

  Wednesday, July 18

  Saturday, July 21

  Wednesday, July 25

  Thursday, July 26

  Monday, July 30

  Tuesday, July 31

  Wednesday, August 1

  Epilogue

  THE FINAL LESSON PLAN

  Acknowledgements

  This book is dedicated to all educators, who are changing lives and making a difference in children's lives each and every day. The work may be hard and oftentimes feel thankless, but so many of those kids and adolescents need you, need someone to believe in them. You are making the world a better place.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  In case you missed it the first time:

  This is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  And in case you have no freaking idea what that even means:

  According to Webster's New Dictionary:

  fic tion(fik shon) n. 1. an imaginary statement, story, etc. 2. literary narratives, collectively, with imaginary characters or events, specif. novels and short stories.

  In case you cannot understand what that means either, then (1.) you're an idiot. (2.) you shouldn't be reading this book.

  Bottom line:

  This book IS FAKE, not real, like totally made up. Do you think J. K. Rowling rides around on a broom chasing a golden ball that flies? Did Stephen King have a possessed car that killed people? No, they did not. FICTION!

  Now, that we have all that cleared up and taken care of, let's get on with The Final Lesson Plan.

  Driving to his apartment, my stomach is in knots. I've made my decision, a decision that took nearly two months to make. The bottom line is: I fell in love. I wasn't supposed to, but I did. I fell in love. Unfortunately, I fell in love with both Briggs and Leo. Head over heels, googly-eyed, take my breath away love with both of them. Sounds cliché, I know, but I did. Sadly enough, I couldn't choose both of them; I had to make a decision. Like Sophie's Choice. Holy Hell, not that hard, but hard nonetheless. I made the decision; it was crazy hard, heart-breakingly hard. Gut-wrenchingly hard.

  Today is the day. I'm going to tell him that it's him. I love him, and I already cannot imagine my life without him. I think he's going to be shocked; after all that we've been through, he doesn't think he stands a chance, shouldn't stand a chance. Granted, he screwed up a few times this past month, making me question if he could really be the man that I needed him to be, could really take care of me and love me like I deserved to be loved, especially after all of the heartache I've endured. It's him though; I think I always knew it was him. I was just too afraid to admit it. I'm not sure people think we're right for one another, but this time, with him, I feel it. This is the real deal. This time, I'm thinking forever.

  I put my car into park, get out slowly, and walk up the steps to his place, noticing how hot the handrail is in the late July sun. It burns my hand, like I'm getting too close to the fire. Icarus. No, not Icarus, this is not going to turn out badly; this is not going to crash in a fiery spiral downfall. I'm not afraid anymore. Let it burn me; I'm strong enough now to handle anything, endure physical and emotional pain both, and still come out on top. That much I know for sure now.

  I take a deep breath and knock, hoping he's awake. There's no answer. I knock again, a little louder with urgency this time. After waiting a few minutes, I hear footsteps. My heart flutters as I hear the approach, and I immediately think back to how much we've been through this summer, this past month. The door opens and…

  Like seriously, did you really think I was going to tell you on page one who Janelle chooses? Give me a fucking break? Where's the fun in that? How long did it take Dallas to reveal who shot Jr? What about Desperate Housewives? Every season Desperate Housewives started with some new scandalous murder/secret. We, viewers, had to wait until freaking May to find out. I was certainly not going to say, "Hey guess what? She chose _______________ (fill in your desired name)" and then go into some other story. The story is why she chooses whom she chooses. Don't you want to know why she's where she is or what went on over the past month? God, you people and your need for immediate gratification is so annoying, freaktasically annoying. Crimony. No wonder vibrators are selling like hotcakes. Nobody wants to wait for anything these days, even when the wait is a titillating and exciting wait. Geez!

  Exactly one month ago, I woke up a happily married, but sexually frustrated, woman with a budding career as a well-respected and dedicated high school English teacher. That was one month ago. Today, I am hiding under the covers, pillow tightly braced against my head, terrified to face the day. My soon-to-be ex-husband ruined me. Broke me when he betrayed me. So, I slept with one of my students. Two of my students, if we're really counting, but who's wasting their time counting? Albeit, former students, they're adults now. They were college-educated adults, perfectly legal, when I reached the highest levels of sexual passion and climax with them, a level that I didn't even know existed. The escapades happened one at a time of course—never together—to my newfound sexually experimental dismay. Then to add to my misery, my husband, the man I vowed to love until "death do us part," slandered me all over town, ruining any and all dignity and respect I'd ever earned. One month. Everything changed in one month.

  I heard the door to the pool house open; I stopped caring if people walked in and out. They did so whether I wanted them to or not. I'd been staying in my brother's pool house since the night I walked in on my husband banging the hell out of his skanky, big-boobed, no0brained secretary in our marital bed. I groaned and rolled over as I heard footsteps walking toward my bedroom. I didn't know who was about to enter my room. At this rate, it could be any number of people. My first guesses were Char, my best friend, or Jocelyn, my older sister.

  "Ya gotta get up, sooner or later," my older brother stated, pulling the blankets off me. Hmmmm, he would have been guess number six. See, with all this chaos in my life all of my instincts were out of whack. At least it wasn't the National Enquirer ready to do some expose on the horny teacher who likes to screw her students. But hey, it was still early.

  "No, I don't," I groaned, rolling over, nestling further under the pillow. "Go away, Jas
per."

  "Janelle, my lawyer has some ideas he wants to run by you," he explained, plopping down on the bed next to me. "He's coming over on a Sunday, Janelle; it's important." Jasper wasn't the most sensitive and warm person on the planet, but he'd certainly been helpful and caring since Marcus screwed Lauren and then destroyed me on local television. Jasper has "savior syndrome." He's always at his best fixing things for people, finding solutions to their problems. Let's hope he could find a way to fix this shit, because I was in no mood to handle any of it.

  Jasper and his lawyer, Gavin Greenwick, spent all evening last night going over files and files of paperwork. Meanwhile, while they were buried in documents, Char, Jocelyn, and my newest friend, Sarah were plotting against Marcus, figuring out a way to bring him down. Briggs and Leo were there too, teetering between the "Kill Marcus Planning," and the "Save Janelle Planning." Briggs spent more time planning Marcus' demise, while Leo spent his time with Jasper and Gavin.

  Briggs Alexander, golden boy athlete, was my student seven years ago, but now it would be more appropriate to call him my...my…lover. Leo Cling was also a student of mine that same year; Leo was the typical overachieving scholar, who also happened to be sharing my bed. So yeah, my husband screwed his secretary, screwed over my reputation, so I in turn screwed former students. Fair is fair, I suppose. Things were not going exactly as I planned them when I got married and started working as a high school teacher. Actually, things were exactly as I planned—up until one month ago. One month.

  Jasper shook my leg, forcing me to respond. "Fine, I call him later," I relented.

  "It's 8:15. He's coming by here shortly," Jasper informed me. "Ya should probably jump in the shower now." He patted my back a few times and got up to leave. "Nelle, it's gonna be okay; I'll make sure of it."

  "Hold it!" I yelled, finally focusing on my brother "Holy fuck. Did you get your eyebrows done when you got your hair cut?" Jasper was infamous for his unibrow. Jocelyn and I had been begging him for years to let us pluck it, but he'd adamantly refused. "Where's my phone? This is so going on Instagram."

  "Shut up, Janelle; you're not taking a picture of me," he said, rolling his eyes. I could finally tell he rolled his eyes, because I could actually see his eyes since the burly little caterpillars weren't covering them any longer. I'd have to send a thank you note to his stylist for curing what ailed me. "Take a shower; you stink," he added before walking away.

  Watching Jasper leave, I wondered what my life would be like without my brother and sister. They'd always been there for me, especially when my parents up and left, following their dreams. And now, now when I was certain that my entire life was in shambles, and I'd never be able to show my face in town again, Joz and Jasper were right by my side, trying to fix it all. I wish I could just fast-forward the month and get past all of this chaos. It hurts my head and my heart. This was going to be the summer that Marcus and I started trying to get pregnant. I was going to spend the summer resting and writing a musical, following my dreams. But things changed. I guess people have to be ready for some major life changes at times. I never really handled change well, but now, I guess I'd have to learn. Vicissitudes were a common part of life.

  In the shower, my mind kept wandering back to the surprise visit from Briggs and Leo yesterday. I'd been blindsided and ultimately swept off my feet by their overwhelming desire to be with me, so much that they agreed to share me. Share me? My heart fluttered at the thought that those two perfect men could actually want me, let alone share me. Granted, it seemed strange. If a man wanted a woman, then he shouldn't allow anyone else near her, should never agree to that. Never. But, they said that not having me wasn't an option. They'd rather forfeit time with me, share me, than ever be completely without me. Wow. The truth was I missed them, and I hated being without them too. Both of them. I'd actually felt a moment of happiness, hope for the future, when they told me that I didn't have to give them up—not yet anyway. I had a moment of complete happiness—until the television reporters arrived.

  Apparently, after that fake-faced bitchy newshound told our entire town that Marcus informed them that I'd been sleeping with underage boys, I passed out, like full-out, eyes rolling back, knees buckling, body slumping to the ground like a rag doll, pass out. Leo caught me; Briggs went after the reporters. Jasper was pulling in at the same time this went down, and didn't know what was going on. After gauging Briggs' anger and seeing Leo tending to me, Jasper jumped out of the car, spewing words like, "private property, slander, media abuse, and lawyer."

  Between Briggs's brawn and Jasper's brain, those reporters didn't stand a chance and made a mass exodus away from our house. Despite being out, I knew the story, inside and out, I'd only heard it three times. I listened as Jasper told Jocelyn, Briggs told Char, and Leo told Sarah. All my forces knew. They spent the night trying to strategize a game plan against the media, against Marcus, and against anything else evil that may come my way. They were all my little army of Janelle warriors, fighting for my happiness and well-being. While they planned their warfare, I sat on the couch sipping wine, wondering what the fuck happened to my life.

  After showering and drying my hair, I was straightening my hair when Gavin Greenwick, attorney at law, showed up. Jasper must've seen him arrive, because he came in shortly thereafter. Gavin reminded me of Professor Flitwick from Harry Potter. Actually, I was pretty sure that he was Professor Flitwick; his name was even Greenwick. Too close not to be suspicious. I think he is a lawyer by day and a Hogwarts Charms teacher by night. The more wine I drank last night, the more I referred to him as "Professor Greenwick." Leo was the only one in the room who smiled. He caught my reference; everyone else just thought I was drunk, which I was.

  I loved that about Leo; he got me. What I really loved about Leo was Leo. What I loved about Briggs was Briggs. They were so different. Thinking about them, I knew a way I could be cheered up and get out of this "my career is over" funk, and they were both coming over later. Thank God. Whatever plans Gavin Greenwick had to squelch these rumors were fine by me, because my mind was on much different, much hotter plans. It was crazy-strange how my career hung in the balance, but yet, I still couldn't get my mind and ummmm other body parts away from Leo and Briggs.

  I basically just wanted this mess to go away. I didn't want to fix it, deal with it, or anything. I just wanted to pretend it didn't exist. Jasper knew that was my typical coping mechanism with life's challenges and disasters. However, he and Gavin forced my attention back to them and back to the problem at hand. I needed to make a statement, a public statement no less, saying that I have never, ever, engaged in any type of inappropriate behavior with a student. Current student, that is. Underage student, that is. I needed to call my superintendent and my union representative before they came to me. I had to be proactive now, fighting off the evils before they came looking for me. Damn Vince. Damn Marcus. If Marcus hadn't slept with Lauren…If Vince hadn't seen Leo sucking my finger…If…If…If Professor Greenwick could put a memory charm on everyone, then everything would be perfect.

  Professor Greenwick was pretty certain that since this was all hearsay that my career would not be in jeopardy, but he promised Jasper that he'd make sure I was safe from public ridicule and legal charges. I wondered how much money Jasper paid him, because Professor was awfully willing to do whatever Jasper asked. Hell, he'd dropped everything yesterday on a moment's notice to be at the pool house. On a Saturday, no less. My brother must have him on an awfully steep retainer. Jasper was rolling in cash; I'd love to know what he was really worth.

  Once I agreed, more like swore, to make the necessary phone calls, Professor and Jasper decided to leave me alone to handle the correspondences without them hovering. It took quite a bit of convincing, but they left, deciding to have an early lunch to discuss matters involving Garrity Advertising. When they left, I did exactly what I'd planned to do; I laid on the couch and watched back-to-back episodes of Charmed on TNT and three straight episodes of The New Adve
ntures of the Old Christine on Lifetime, proving yet again that I'm in fact a master of procrastination, a topnotch skilled staller.

  As I was settling in for a Desperate Housewives trifecta with half a gallon of cookies-n-cream ice cream, my cell phone dinged, startling me. Looking down, my heart stopped, seeing the number of my high school in the display window. Damn, I should've called them first. And I didn't even get one bite of my ice cream. This day sucked. I hit the button, answering the phone. Here we go.

  After hanging up, I called Jasper and told him that I was meeting with my principal, the superintendent, and a union representative at 3:00 p.m.—on a Sunday. A Sunday during the summer? This couldn't be, could not be, good at all. School officials didn't work during the summer, let alone on Sundays. Holy Godiva, I was going to lose my job, and lose it today. Fuck.

  Jasper said he'd call Gavin, and they'd meet me in the front parking lot at 2:30 p.m. God, I hoped the Professor could get me out of this, saving my career and reputation. I immediately called Jocelyn, begging her to come over, help me get ready, and calm my ass down. She was always the voice of reason and could talk me down off the ledge. I needed her, badly.

  Jasper and Gavin were waiting for me when I pulled into the lot; my stomach was doing a number on me. Jasper hugged me and asked if I was doing okay. I nodded, not convincing him or myself at all for that matter. "Nelle, we've got this; you're gonna be fine."

  He was starting to sound like a broken record. Did people still say that these days? I wasn't sure, but I didn't know what to replace that thought with. "Man, he sounded like an iPod stuck on repeat?" Nah, it just didn't have the same ring to it. Gavin, the professor, interrupted my outdated lingo analysis, bringing me back to my depressing doom.