“You’re standing really close,” Leslie said.
He nodded. “I realize that.”
“Mr. Franklin—”
“You can call me Gabriel, you know,” he said, the pitch of his voice still on the husky side. “We’re at school, but technically it’s after hours.”
Leslie swallowed. Then she swallowed again.
“I...I, uh.” She slipped away from the microscope and took several steps back. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”
Appropriate? What was she? Her mother?
Taking yet another step back, Leslie asked, “Can we get back to discussing Cassidy?”
Tilting his head to the side, he rubbed the back of his neck and let out a deep breath. When his gaze returned to her, disappointment was evident in his brown eyes.
“You’re right. I apologize if you found anything I said inappropriate, Mrs. Kirkland.”
Mrs.
Great. Now she really felt like her mother.
“I didn’t mean to—” Leslie started, but he held his hand up, staving off further comment.
“No, you were right. We’re here to talk about Cassidy.” He expelled another deep breath and continued, “As I was saying earlier, for the most part Cassidy is doing great in class. I do, however, have a couple of issues I wanted to discuss with you.” He held up one finger. “Give me just a moment.”
Leslie remained at the rear of the classroom while he dashed to the front. She used the brief respite to regain control of her own breathing and to remind herself yet again why it was just plain wrong to nurture any improper feelings toward her daughter’s very young science teacher.
A very young science teacher who had asked her to call him by his first name.
Gabriel—Mr. Franklin. Mr. Franklin—returned with a set of manila folders. He flattened one open on the counter.
“As you can see by her quiz scores, Cassidy has definitely grasped the concepts. Her explanations are thorough and well thought out.” The prideful smirk that crossed Leslie’s lips died a swift death when he continued, “But lately she has displayed an unsettling behavior that is all too common, especially at this age.”
“What type of behavior?”
“Cassidy tends to rush through her work so that she can be the first to finish, and she sometimes misses things. Back when I was in school, teachers would reward the kids who finished early, but they don’t do that anymore because it’s obvious how it can backfire. But many students, especially the competitive ones, still see it as a race.”
“Competitive. Yes, well, even though the middle name on her birth certificate is Elizabeth, I think Cass believes it’s actually Competition. You should see her on the softball field.”
“I can only imagine,” he said with a laugh.
His deep chuckle triggered those inappropriate tingles, and suddenly all Leslie could think about was the need to speed up this meeting. She had to put some distance between herself and Gabriel.
Mr. Franklin.
“Cass and I will have a discussion on the importance of taking her time in class,” Leslie assured him. “You said you had a couple of issues? What’s the second?”
“Homework assignments,” he said. “They’re not always complete. When I asked Cassidy about it, she said that she tries to get her work done but doesn’t always have help.”
Shock sent Leslie’s brows shooting upward. “I can’t believe she said that. Cassidy knows that I’m there to help her with homework. We’re sometimes up until after nine o’clock working on her assignments.”
He put both hands up. “You don’t have to convince me,” he said. “You’re one of the most engaged parents I’ve met since I started teaching here, but you’re also a single, working parent. You can’t devote all your time to making sure Cassidy does her homework, and you shouldn’t have to. She’s nine years old. This is the age when she should start becoming accountable for her work.” His brow dipped in a frown. “I hope I didn’t offend you with that.”
“With what?”
“Saying that you’re a single, working parent.”
Leslie let out a soft laugh. “I am a single, working parent,” she pointed out. “And while it certainly isn’t a walk in the park, it’s my job. If Cassidy is having problems completing her assignments, I want to know about it so I can figure out a solution.”
“I may have a solution,” he said. “Well, not necessarily a solution, but something that can lighten the load.” He retrieved another manila folder from the set he’d brought with him. “As one of my best volunteers and the president of the PTO, I want to know what you think about it.”
Leslie moved in closer, but made sure not to stand too close. She could not handle the nearness right now.
“I’ve proposed a new afternoon homework help program in conjunction with Gauthier High School,” he began. “The high school students need to earn community service hours, and it would also be a big help to working parents.”
“Tutoring?” Leslie asked as she scanned the flyer advertising the program.
“Not exactly,” he said. “If the high school student notices that the kid they’re trying to help just isn’t grasping the information, they can alert the teacher and we can get the student the proper tutoring they need. This program will be strictly homework help. Like I said, it’s meant to lighten the load for parents.”
“This is a wonderful idea,” Leslie said.
“I tried to implement something similar in my previous teaching position, but could never get it off the ground. Now that I’m interim assistant principal I think I have a better shot of making it a reality.”
Leslie had been hoping she could avoid talk of the feathers he’d ruffled with some of the changes he’d proposed in his new position, but now that he’d brought it up...
“Speaking of your other role,” she began. “As president of GEMS’s Parent Teacher Organization, I’ve been approached by several parents who have concerns over something that they believe is in the wind.”
His forehead furrowed. “Is this about the Lock-In?”
“Yes, it is.”
His chin fell to his chest and he shook his head. “I don’t know how that rumor got started—”
“So it is just a rumor?” Leslie questioned. “You don’t have plans to cancel or change the Lock-In?”
“Cancel? No. But, yes, I would like to make some changes to it.”
Leslie’s spine stiffened. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Mr. Franklin, when parents approached me with this rumor I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I know how quickly facts can get twisted and turned around in this little town. But it seems as if parents had a right to be concerned. Exactly what kind of changes are you proposing?” She held up a finger. “And before you begin, please keep in mind that we’ve been putting on the Lock-In for years and that it also helped to purchase that microscope you have here.”
“Just hear me out,” he said, both hands raised in entreaty. “I promise the changes I’d like to make won’t hurt the PTO’s ability to raise money. In fact, I’m hoping it will help to make even more, all while helping the kids at GEMS prepare for the state test.”
“I’m not following,” Leslie said.
“As I understand it, in the past the Lock-In has been mainly an all-night party with games and junk food and things like that.”
“Yes. And the students love it. They can win prizes and watch movies and hang around with their friends.”
“And that’s great,” he said. “But I think it can be both a fund-raiser and an opportunity for students to learn.” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms across his chest. “You’ve seen me in the classroom, so you know I’m a big believer in making learning fun. In addition to the normal fun and games that usually take
place at the Lock-In, I want to gear some of the activities toward learning. We can put on math competitions, hide vocabulary words around the gymnasium and hold a scavenger hunt. I can drag all of my fun science toys in and conduct experiments until the sun comes up. This can be a great way to help students prepare for the end-of-the-year state test.”
“Wait.” Leslie held up her palm. “Let me get this straight. You never said anything about canceling the Lock-In?”
He shook his head. “Never. Though I have my suspicions about how the rumor was started—”
“I can’t reveal my sources,” Leslie said.
“I’m not asking you to. However, I am asking for your help in getting the correct information to parents and other members of the PTO. I need parents to be behind me on this. Not just this Lock-In, but on several other ideas I have for the school. Do you think—”
A knock sounded on the door a second before Ardina Scofield’s head poked in. “Mr. Frank— Oh, hi, Leslie,” she said. “Mr. Franklin, the superintendent of schools is here. Principal Williams asked if you could join them in the cafeteria.”
“I’ll be right there,” Gabriel said. He waited for the secretary to leave before returning his attention to Leslie. “I’m sorry we have to cut this short. I would really like to continue this conversation if you have some time to spare. It’s important that the correct information gets out there, and not the rumors that I’m pretty certain the person who just left this room started.”
Leslie had to bite her lip to stop herself from making a sound, but she couldn’t stop it from twitching.
“You’re not betraying your sources,” he said. “I know it was Ardina.”
“Whoever it was, they apparently got the story wrong.”
“Yes, she did. And it’s imperative that parents know the truth. Can you help me get the information across to them?”
“Of course,” Leslie said.
Relief flooded his face. He reached over and clasped both of her hands between his. “Thank you.”
The moment he touched her, tingles started to rain on her skin. He pulled his hand away and ran it up and down his pant leg, but his eyes remained on her. The mixture of confusion and heat in his stare made Leslie question whether her innocent infatuation was one-sided.
But it had to be one-sided. He was young and hip and single and just starting out in life. She was a widowed working mother who spent her free time making sure their new puppy didn’t leave any smelly surprises on her hardwood floors.
But she wasn’t blind, either. She knew that look in Gabriel Franklin’s eyes.
This was not one-sided.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said.
Leslie could only nod.
With one last penetrating look, he turned and left her standing in the room. Leslie slouched against the counter and focused all her energy on pulling in as many deep breaths as she could.
When had her safe crush turned so dangerous?
* * *
Gabe fought to remain focused on what Superintendent McCabe was saying, but it would be easier to recite the entire periodic table backward. In his sleep.
He’d lost his ability to comprehend anything the moment Leslie Kirkland entered the school cafeteria. He should be used to his body’s reaction to her, but every single time she was near he was shocked at just how much she affected him. He’d had to stop himself from circling her volunteer days on his calendar; but it didn’t matter because he had her schedule memorized.
If only he could figure out a way to make her see him as something other than Cassidy’s teacher. He had never failed so miserably at getting a woman’s attention.
There had been a number of times over the course of the past few months that he’d thought he’d noticed her looking at him with something akin to interest, but maybe it had been wishful thinking on his part. If her reaction to him asking her to call him by his first name wasn’t a Mount Olympus–size hint as to how she felt, Gabe didn’t know what was.
Leslie Kirkland obviously didn’t think of herself as his friend, so he shouldn’t think of her that way, either. She was a dedicated volunteer who took a vested interest in her children’s education. Period.
She was also gorgeous, sophisticated and—as he’d learned tonight—had the softest hands he’d ever felt.
Gabe tracked her out of the corner of his eye as she walked over to the refreshment table that had been laid out for parents and teachers attending tonight’s conference. Her slim figure curved in just the right places, the slight flare of her hips accentuated by her fitted suit jacket. Her rich auburn hair fell in thick waves, reaching just past her shoulders.
And that face—God, that face. Deep-set sable-colored eyes, intoxicatingly smooth light brown skin, lips that haunted his dreams.
This woman had him so twisted inside Gabe could hardly think straight when she was around.
She perused the trays of tiny finger sandwiches and cookies before lifting up a chocolate-chip cookie. His breathing slowed as she brought it to her mouth. Blood started to pound through his veins as her lips parted and—
“Do you agree, Mr. Franklin?”
Gabe snapped to attention.
“Yes,” he said.
Wait. What had he just agreed with?
“It was actually Gabriel’s idea,” John Williams, the school’s principal, said. He sent Gabe a questioning look that said he’d better get it together. “We’re still figuring out exactly how we’re going to schedule it,” Mr. Williams continued. “But I think Quiet Time is going to be a big hit with students.”
Ah, yes. Quiet Time.
“I predict it will, too,” Gabe interjected. “It’s something our principal instituted back when I was in high school. For ten minutes each day everyone in the school had to read something. It didn’t matter if you were a student, teacher or custodial worker. Even the delivery guy had to stop and read if he happened to come during Quiet Time. There were stations set up throughout the school with books, magazines and newspapers for anyone who didn’t have any reading material with them.”
“I’m fascinated by this idea,” the superintendent said. “It’s not too overwhelming. Even nonreaders can concentrate for ten minutes.”
“That’s the whole idea. And, eventually, they’ll learn to enjoy reading a little bit more every day. I went from being a student who hated to read to someone with a paperback-per-week habit, and it’s something that has stuck with me to this day.”
“Now, that’s the kind of habit we want our students to develop,” Principal Williams said.
“I haven’t gotten to the best part,” Gabe continued. “In just a couple of years, the test scores in reading went up over twenty-five percent school-wide.”
“A twenty-five-percent increase in just two years? That’s all I need to hear,” Superintendent McCabe said. “Quiet Time will become a part of the curriculum throughout the entire school system. I’ll look into having a committee set this up as soon as possible. You mind working with them?” He directed the question at Gabe.
“Of course I’ll work with them,” Gabe answered. “You’re going to be amazed at the results. Just wait.”
“There’s Mrs. LeBorde,” Principal Williams said. “You need to hear about some of the things she’s added to the sixth-grade math course. Gabe, can you meet us in my office in about twenty minutes? Superintendent McCabe has something else to discuss with us.”
Gabe told himself that the hint of unease he heard in the principal’s voice was just a figment of his imagination.
“Yes. Of course,” he said, forcing himself to sound as normal as possible, despite the apprehension sweeping through him.
Had news of the disgruntled parents reached the school board? Were they going to tell him that they were hiring a new permanent assistant principal, someo
ne who hadn’t pissed off everyone in the community?
He needed to get control over that rumor about the Lock-In as quickly as possible. This interim assistant principal position was a major stepping-stone on the journey to completing his ultimate goal, and he would be damned if he allowed some false rumor to kill it. He’d worked too hard for this.
Gabe turned and spotted the woman who could be the potential key to putting him back in the parents’ good graces.
Leslie stood in front of the table covered with pamphlets highlighting upcoming summer programs. She was chatting with a couple of other parents. For a moment he considered approaching them, but then thought better of it. They had not agreed on just how much she was willing to help him clear up that rumor. He didn’t want to pressure her into defending him if she still had lingering doubts about it.
But then she looked directly at him and gave him a slight nod.
That was all the encouragement Gabe needed. He strode up to the group and greeted them with a smile.
“Good evening,” he said. “I hope you all don’t mind me intruding. I know most of you, but wanted to introduce myself to those of you I haven’t met yet. I’m Gabriel Franklin, science teacher and interim assistant principal.”
If the parents in this group had heard the rumors floating around about the Lock-In, they didn’t let on. They spent several minutes discussing different events that would be held throughout the remaining six weeks of the spring semester, and Gabe even received verbal commitments from several of them to sign up as volunteers. Some of the anxiety that had plagued him since Tristan had told him about the rumors began to dissipate.
Kyle Dorsey, the only male parent in the group, and a mechanical engineer who Gabe had just convinced to come talk to his fifth-grade science class, pointed out that it was after eight o’clock, which meant Parent/Teacher Conference night was officially over. They all bade each other farewell, but before she could leave, Gabe caught Leslie by the hand.
Forever With You (Bayou Dreams Book 5) Page 5
