The Teacher

CH 35: WREN

The steady ticking of the clock fills my quiet classroom as I work on my lesson plans for next week during free period. I'm savoring the rare moment of peace when a sharp knock at the door breaks my concentration.

"Come in," I call out, expecting to see one of my fellow teachers.

The door swings open, and my breath catches in my throat. It's not a coworker standing there, but Summer—the last person I expected or wanted to see right now.

"Well, well. If it isn't Miss Goody Two-Shoes—I mean Ms. Dunningham," Summer drawls, sauntering into my classroom like she owns the place. Her stilettos click against the linoleum as she approaches my desk.

I bristle at her mocking tone but force myself to remain calm. "Ms. Kennedy. What an... unexpected surprise. What brings you here? I typically don't meet with parents unless it's scheduled."

She smirks, "Oh, so when you're fucking my husband, it's always scheduled?"

I stand up from my desk, my blood boiling, and the cool facade I try to maintain is cracking slightly. "I think you should go."

"And you should leave Skylar alone. You're breaking up a happy home by spreading your legs."

I scoff in disbelief. "I'm going to ask you nicely once more to leave my classroom before I call security. Summer's smirk doesn't falter as she steps closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Make me."

I would love nothing more than to make her leave, but this isn't the time or place. Before I can respond, the door bursts open again, and in strides, Skylar catches both Summer and me off guard. He takes in the tense atmosphere in the room, his eyes flickering back and forth between us. Seriously, what the hell is happening?

"What's going on here?" he asks, his voice tight with anger.

"That is what I would like to know too." I let out a breath of frustration.

Summer steps back, her hand resting possessively on Skylar's arm. "Your little side piece and I were just having a chat."

I can feel my face flush with anger at being referred to as a sidepiece. But before I can retort, Skylar's grip on Summer's hand tightens. "Don't talk about her like that, Summer. You need to learn your place," he growls, his gaze fixed on Summer.

She stares at him incredulously for a moment before scoffing. "Wow, you're really defending her? The woman who is trying to ruin our marriage?'

"We are not married, Summer. If you are going to keep this up, I will have to file a restraining order on you. What are you not getting?" Skylar's jaw clenches as he turns to face me. "Babe, you know that's not true."

I know it's not true, but with Summer showing up here obliviously wanting to cause a scene, it is not going to fly by me. I work in a school. I'm a teacher, for crying out loud, and what she is accusing me of can get me fired. My career, my reputation, and everything I've worked so hard to build could crumble because of baseless accusations. "Skylar, please handle this. You need to take her out of here," I plead, feeling the situation spiraling out of control. "I can't afford this."

Skylar nods, a hint of understanding crossing his face as he turns to Summer. He speaks in a quiet but firm tone, "Summer, let's fucking go. You're skating on thin fucking ice."

But she pulls away from him, her eyes wild with fury. "No! We settle this now! I want answers because you aren't stupid enough to leave me for her. I'm the love of your life. Not her!"

Suddenly, the door opens again, breaking the heavy atmosphere as the principal, Mr. Thompson, enters the room after hearing the raised voices. His expression shifts from concern to stern disapproval as he assesses the situation. Oh, my fucking Crayola—this is what a didn't want to happen.