Page 42 of One More Chapter
sixteen
penelope
Fire alarms area teacher’s worst nightmare. Once one of those bad boys goes off, there’s no reining your class back in. Usually, the rest of the lesson being interrupted leaves little room for recovery—especially in a middle school, where time with each class is limited as it is. Typically, it’s a one class period thing. Bell goes off, take class outside, come back in, play crowd control for the rest of the class period until you can start anew.
And then, today happened.
Not only did a fire alarm derail second hour, but it wasn’t just your average, run of the mill drill. No. Someone pulled it. And because the alarm waspulledrather than planned, we have been standing on the sidewalk for a full hour in the blazing late-September sun, while the authorities check every nook and cranny of the building, and our admin checks the cameras.
Luckily, my class is lined up near Juliet’s. We’ve given the students free rein to chit chat as long as they stay nearby.
“At least you look cute for firefighter day,” Juliet says, gesturing to the outfit I threw on because it was the first thing I saw in my closet when I woke up late after the Ant-dinner-fiasco.
“Yeah, but are they even thecutefirefighters? This is like, the mid-morning shift.”
“I’ll text Lucy. She’s with them right now checking the cameras.”
“I feel bad for her. She didnotsign up to be a part-time administrator in all of this chaos.”
“But Ant did,” she says softly, tucking her phone back into the pocket of her dress. Her side eye tells me that she’s trying to bait me, so I batten down the hatches with White House level security. I willnotcry to my friend that I made him dinner last night and he got home late.
Instead, I press up on my tiptoes and scout out the firemen.
“Ms. Barker.”
I turn and see a gaggle of female students with wide eyes. They beckon me over.
“We’ve already done inventory. There’s eight total firefighters. Four police officers. Seven have rings, two are girls, two are uggos, and one is Macie’s grandpa.”
The aforementioned granddaughter waves. I lift my brow, impressed but also scared.
“And what, exactly, am I supposed to be doing with this information?”
“Getting yourself wifed up. Duh. We saw you looking.”
Brynlee, the ring leader, matches my pose, arm cross for arm cross, right down to my deadpanned, lifted brow. I forget sometimes how intuitive middle schoolers can be.
“Touché. But who says I’m looking to be wifed up?”
“We took my dad’s phone during a sleepover to play on his dating apps this summer and found you,” Macie pipes up, then winces. “Sorry.”
Hey, Siri? Remind me to deleteALLdating apps from existence, and toss my phone off the back of the Boston Tea Party Museum ship.
“Ladies, while I appreciate the help, I am perfectly fine with not being married.”
Liar.
“You aren’t marriedyet. Growth mindset.” My eyes widen, and Sarah, the third girl in the trio, shrugs. “What? Ms. Lucy taught us. Figured I’d put it into practice.”
“Hey, Lucy texted back. Said the guy who just came outside is ringless and hot—a nice looking young man.”
Juliet tones down what I’m sure was meant to behot as hellwhen she sees me talking to students.
“You can call him hot, Mrs. Ford. especially ifthat’sthe guy Ms. Lucy was talking about, becausedang!”
Naturally, itwouldbe the guy from the day my house exploded. The veryringlessman who didn’t think I’d notice the sun tan that his wedding band left behind. The one I’m sure he told his wife he “doesn’t wear on shift” because he “doesn’t want to lose something so precious.” I wonder how many defenseless women he’s fooled because of it.
He approaches us when he recognizes me, and I stand a little bit taller, crossing my arms a little tighter. He tilts his head and tosses me aHey! Oh my God, what are you doing here?!type of bullshit look that bullshit men like to use. I lift my brow.