everyone piled out the door. Her smile faded as she saw Jerry deliver a carefully concealed elbow to Mark’s lower back just as they disappeared out the door.
***
The rest of the day disappeared in a blur as she got the students in her other morning classes, Senior English Literature and the first of two periods of Intermediate Composition, started on their with their first assignments. She had an off period before lunch, and she took advantage of the quietude to work on her lesson plans and update the on-line daily grade records.
“There,” she said to herself as she entered the last one before closing her laptop. Her stomach growled, and she realized that she was ravenously hungry.
Grabbing her purse, she left the classroom, locking it behind her. Taking a glance at her watch, she saw that she had thirty minutes before her first afternoon class. Setting out along the mezzanine walkway that connected the second floor classrooms in the circular main building, she headed outside and toward the cafeteria. She nodded greetings to the students she passed, and from the looks she got she was sure that many of them momentarily assumed she was a student until they realized that she was wearing clothes that only a professional woman would wear. Beyond the fashion gap, however, Nikki wasn’t far removed from the girls around her: she was only twenty-four, and was the youngest teacher at the school. But the six years that had passed since she’d been a senior in high school seemed like a lifetime. The thought brought a brief pang of sadness that she quickly pushed away.
Pushing open the door to the cafeteria, she was struck by the noise, which hit her like rolling thunder. She never ceased to be amazed how loud a group of a few hundred teenagers could be. Just as she was about to grab a tray, she heard a familiar voice say, “Ah, Ms. Baumann! Here, have a tray.”
She found Mr. O’Neil standing right behind her, two trays in his hands, one of which was extended toward her. He blinked at her through his thick horn rim glasses, an earnest smile plastered on his face.
I obviously have my weirdo magnet turned on full blast , she told herself with an inward sigh, wondering how he’d managed to ambush her without her seeing him first. His attention might not have been quite so bad if he’d not been a full thirty years older than she was and about as attractive as a rotting tree stump. Forcing herself to smile, she took the proffered tray and allowed herself to be swept forward in the line. O’Neil chattered away, constantly invading her personal space, and Nikki wondered if she wouldn’t be better off feigning the sudden onset of a fatal bout of dengue fever and dashing to the administrative offices where she could find a closet in which to hide.
“Mr. O’Neil! Mr. O’Neil! ”
Nikki and Mr. O’Neil turned to see Mark pushing his way through the stream of students who, having finished eating, were heading past them out of the cafeteria.
“What is it, Mark?” O’Neil asked, the annoyance in his voice tempered by his obvious respect for the young man calling his name.
“Mrs. Price needs you in the admin office right away,” Mark said. “She said it’s important, something about Todd Berkeley.”
O’Neil blinked and clamped his mouth shut with an audible click. “Oh. Oh. Umm, here.” He handed his tray to Mark and, without another word to Nikki, dove into the salmon run exiting the cafeteria and quickly disappeared.
Nikki looked at Mark for a moment, narrowing her eyes. He was affecting an innocent expression, but she couldn’t fail to see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Mrs. Price didn’t really need him for anything, did she?”
“Well, she does, but it’s not exactly urgent.” Mark shrugged. “I was in the office and heard her mention that some paperwork had come in about Todd.”
She cocked her head as Mark led her back into the food line. “What happened to him?”
“Mr.
***
The rest of the day disappeared in a blur as she got the students in her other morning classes, Senior English Literature and the first of two periods of Intermediate Composition, started on their with their first assignments. She had an off period before lunch, and she took advantage of the quietude to work on her lesson plans and update the on-line daily grade records.
“There,” she said to herself as she entered the last one before closing her laptop. Her stomach growled, and she realized that she was ravenously hungry.
Grabbing her purse, she left the classroom, locking it behind her. Taking a glance at her watch, she saw that she had thirty minutes before her first afternoon class. Setting out along the mezzanine walkway that connected the second floor classrooms in the circular main building, she headed outside and toward the cafeteria. She nodded greetings to the students she passed, and from the looks she got she was sure that many of them momentarily assumed she was a student until they realized that she was wearing clothes that only a professional woman would wear. Beyond the fashion gap, however, Nikki wasn’t far removed from the girls around her: she was only twenty-four, and was the youngest teacher at the school. But the six years that had passed since she’d been a senior in high school seemed like a lifetime. The thought brought a brief pang of sadness that she quickly pushed away.
Pushing open the door to the cafeteria, she was struck by the noise, which hit her like rolling thunder. She never ceased to be amazed how loud a group of a few hundred teenagers could be. Just as she was about to grab a tray, she heard a familiar voice say, “Ah, Ms. Baumann! Here, have a tray.”
She found Mr. O’Neil standing right behind her, two trays in his hands, one of which was extended toward her. He blinked at her through his thick horn rim glasses, an earnest smile plastered on his face.
I obviously have my weirdo magnet turned on full blast , she told herself with an inward sigh, wondering how he’d managed to ambush her without her seeing him first. His attention might not have been quite so bad if he’d not been a full thirty years older than she was and about as attractive as a rotting tree stump. Forcing herself to smile, she took the proffered tray and allowed herself to be swept forward in the line. O’Neil chattered away, constantly invading her personal space, and Nikki wondered if she wouldn’t be better off feigning the sudden onset of a fatal bout of dengue fever and dashing to the administrative offices where she could find a closet in which to hide.
“Mr. O’Neil! Mr. O’Neil! ”
Nikki and Mr. O’Neil turned to see Mark pushing his way through the stream of students who, having finished eating, were heading past them out of the cafeteria.
“What is it, Mark?” O’Neil asked, the annoyance in his voice tempered by his obvious respect for the young man calling his name.
“Mrs. Price needs you in the admin office right away,” Mark said. “She said it’s important, something about Todd Berkeley.”
O’Neil blinked and clamped his mouth shut with an audible click. “Oh. Oh. Umm, here.” He handed his tray to Mark and, without another word to Nikki, dove into the salmon run exiting the cafeteria and quickly disappeared.
Nikki looked at Mark for a moment, narrowing her eyes. He was affecting an innocent expression, but she couldn’t fail to see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Mrs. Price didn’t really need him for anything, did she?”
“Well, she does, but it’s not exactly urgent.” Mark shrugged. “I was in the office and heard her mention that some paperwork had come in about Todd.”
She cocked her head as Mark led her back into the food line. “What happened to him?”
“Mr.
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