If I’d Known (Cursed 1)

I'm about to walk out the office door when I hear, "Lana."

Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away.

"I was just going to call you to my office."

I slowly turn, armed with an overly fake smile. "Mr. Garner. You know how much our visits mean to me, but I've had a really rough morning, and I need to get to geometry." It's not easy, being sarcastic and honest at the same time, but I've somehow mastered it.

My smile drops when I see Ms. Lewis in the doorway of his office, her hands on her hips. There's no need to fake anything with her. I can't stand her and she knows it ... because I told her in front of the entire class last year when I had her for algebra.

"Sorry, this can't wait," Mr. Garner says, the apology sincere in his eyes. "Hopefully, it won't take long."

With my teeth clenched behind a stiff smile, I give in and walk into his office. I really don't need this. And I'm not exactly in the mood to hold anything back.

"Have a seat." Mr. Garner gestures to one of the thinly padded wooden chairs in front of his desk, closing the door behind me.

I drop my messenger bag on the floor and slouch in the chair with my arms crossed--all contrived pleasantries lost.

He walks around the desk and sits. "You're welcome to have a seat as well, Ms. Lewis."

She chooses to remain standing, sidling next to his desk with her hands still attached to her hips. Her face is pinched in a severe scowl. She's trying to look authoritative. Instead, she looks like she's eaten too many Toxic Waste candies. I ignore her and look to Mr. Garner for an explanation.

"Ms. Lewis is concerned that you may have helped Tori on her algebra test." The silent apology doesn't leave his eyes. He doesn't want to be here any more than I do.

"I'm not in Ms. Lewis's algebra class this year," I answer simply.

The veins protrude along Ms. Lewis's neck, sticking out like chicken bones. She purses her lips even more, struggling to keep from exploding.

"I know that," Mr. Garner says calmly. "I brought that up too. But Ms. Lewis is convinced that you--"

"Cheated!" Ms. Lewis snaps, unable to hold it in any longer. "You cheated! And I won't stand for it!"

"I'm not in your class, Ms. Lewis," I repeat calmly, like I'm talking to a child throwing a temper tantrum. "And didn't Tori take the test in front of you? You were in the room, right?"

Her face reddens and her eyes twitch. It's hard to watch this woman coming apart. I raise an eyebrow in disapproval.

"She is not an A student. It's not possible she did that well on her own!"

"So you're saying you're not an effective teacher? You'd rather believe your students cheated than passed your class?" I question coolly. "Do you get off on flunking your students, Ms. Lewis?"

Ms. Lewis's mouth opens as she blinks repeatedly, a small squeak escaping.

"Lana," Mr. Garner warns. "Ms. Lewis, I know how hard you've worked to get Tori engaged in her classwork. Perhaps your commitment has finally paid off."

Ms. Lewis remains aghast. I think she's about to cry when she storms out of the office.

"I'm glad we cleared that up," I say cheerily, reaching for the strap of my bag as I stand. "Keep doing your thing, Mr. Garner."

"Lana," he calls to me before I can escape.

I slowly pivot to face him. He's wearing a ridiculous lime-green sweater-vest over a blue shirt with a yellow tie. He reminds me of an Easter egg. The man has no sense of fashion. When I look up at him, he's trying to hide an amused smile.

He adjusts the glasses on his face. "I'd really like to make it through the last three weeks of school without adding another page to your file." He rests his hand on top of the three-inch tattered file folder bound with a thick green elastic band.

"I will try to stay away, Mr. Garner. But they keep sending me back to you." I look around the small office, its walls covered with framed cliche posters of achievement and goals. "How can you sit in here all day and not want to break something?"

He lets out a breathy laugh.

Mr. Garner took over for Mrs. Colstrom after she had a heart attack at the beginning of the year. Not my fault, I swear! She was a naive, bubbly little thing who thought everyone could be saved by an inspirational slogan and a lollipop. Unfortunately, there weren't enough lollipops in the world to save me. Instead of wasting her breath on words of inspiration every time I was sent to the office, she'd let me work on my assignments in the library. I actually got more done there than if I'd stayed in class. And, sometimes, I even got to catch up on sleep.