Hissy Fit (Southern Gentleman 1)

By the time I was sitting in front of Mrs. Sherpa’s desk, I was a nervous wreck.

“We had a parent log a complaint about you,” Mrs. Sherpa said, not beating around the bush.

My brows rose.

“Okay,” I paused. “What about?”

I was thinking it was one of my calculus student’s parents who were unhappy with how I was grading their child. I couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“We would like you to know that the complaint will be investigated, but we don’t foresee anything following the investigation. But, by law, we have to investigate,” she explained.

I was flabbergasted.

“What was the complaint?” I repeated.

She wiggled in her seat. “The parent said that you made a comment to a male student, and when the male student told their parents what you said, they felt that it was a sexual advance.”

My mouth fell open.

“What?”

“It happened in your sex-ed class,” she explained. “And apparently, you asked the student a question about something in the textbook, and you made a sexual innuendo as you did.”

My mind raced.

I had no idea who she was talking about, or what I might’ve said.

“I teach straight out of the book,” I explained, trying to relay how I taught. “Honestly, I follow the chapters, and give tests straight out of the books exactly like Coach McDuff did previously. Nothing that I’ve done can or will ever be misconstrued as a sexual advance toward any student. Honestly, those students scare the absolute bejesus out of me, and you very well know it.”

She nodded in understanding. “I know. Which is why I don’t think the investigation will go anywhere. For the time being, though, Coach McDuff will be taking over the class until the investigation is taken care of.”

That explained Ezra’s panicked look as he exited the office and saw me standing there.

He knew.

Oh, God. I felt like a fool.

And I felt sick to my stomach.

I’d never once said a word to my students that could ever be misconstrued as anything other than appropriate.

I was not that kind of teacher that played around with her students—I literally couldn’t handle that.

And everyone knew it.

Why hadn’t Ezra said something?

Did he believe her?

“What about my regular classes?” I asked carefully.

“Those you can continue since the student that complained wasn’t attending those.” She paused. “I don’t want you to think that we don’t believe you, because we do.”

I waited.

“But with the student’s parents being who they are, the school board will overrule me if I don’t follow through on this to the letter.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “This happens, so don’t fret. But, be careful of what you say, and if anything happens that you think I should know about, don’t hesitate to share it with me, okay?”

I mentally reviewed things that I thought she might want to know about and other than Ezra and I having a relationship outside of school, I was coming up empty.

“Okay,” I sighed and stood up.

With my next period now suddenly free, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.

All of my work that I’d brought was back in my classroom where I was sure Ezra was on his way to, but I wasn’t sure what I should do.

“Can I go back and get my stuff?” I asked. “Or should I wait until after school?”

She shooed me away with her hand. “Go back and get it.”

I did, leaving the principal’s office behind.

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I wasn’t prepared for the hand that came around my arm to jerk me to a stop.

The fingers bit into the fat of my armpit, and I cried out in pain.

My eyes jerked up, and I found myself face to face with Mackie.

I glowered, jerking my arm away, and put distance between us.

All the while, my heart pounded.

Before I could ask him what had happened, or anything about why he’d squeezed so hard, Ezra rounded the corner, a scowl on his face.

When he saw Mackie standing so close to me, his scowl darkened.

“Back up, Mackie,” Ezra barked.

“Sorry, Coach.” Mackie backed away with his hands in the air. “I didn’t want her to fall. Floor’s wet.”

I looked down, and sure enough, the floor was wet.

But I’d been in no danger of falling.

I had on fairly slip-resistant shoes, but Mackie’s words did ring true when he explained his actions.

My arm still throbbed where he’d gripped me, but I couldn’t very well contradict the kid.

I was prone to busting my ass—and had actually done that quite a few times.

Many of which had been in this very hallway.

Needless to say, I was not the most graceful of teachers.

“Thanks,” I murmured, trying not to rub my arm and tip Ezra off. “I didn’t know it was wet.”

Mackie’s eyes didn’t show a hint of anything.

No anger. No pity. No derision. No happiness. No nothing.

It was weird, really.