Page 66 of These Godly Lies
Khiran’s sleeves are rolled up to his elbows the way he knows Merryweather hates (and she secretly admires). His eyes scan the bleachers, grinning when he finds her. Anna’s more focused on the fact that the principal walks in right behind him.
Definitely not a coincidence that they were both missing, then.
Susan gives a huff of laughter, the sound smoky at the edges. “Well, speak of the devil.” Anna can’t be sure if the devil she’s referring to is her husband or their boss, but Susan stands, knees creaking, before she can ask. “Well, while you grill your honey, I’m gonna go get the scoop from Cathy.” She gives Anna a wink before leaving, but pats Khiran on the shoulder, chuckling, as she passes him.
He gives the teaching veteran a curious look, but says nothing as he sits beside his wife. He’s so close, his arm brushes hers as he reaches up and loosens his tie. Anna catches Merryweather’s scowl at the action. “Sorry, I got held up. Has it started?” he asks, eyes flitting around the auditorium. “Looks like we’re still waiting on the television?”
Anna scowls at him. “How much trouble are you in?”
He blinks, startled, before his gaze flits to her accomplice on the other side of the auditorium. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. “Susan?”
“Susan.”
“Old bat could run an entire business on selling secrets,” he muses. “If it weren’t so aggravating, I’d find it impressive.”
“Khiran. How much trouble?”
“Two weeks suspension,” he grumbles, but there’s a spark of laughter in his eyes. “Or,wouldhave been. Thankfully, your husband is incredibly charming, and I got off with a metaphorical slap on the wrist.” His grin is teasing, but when she doesn’t smile back, he sighs. “A few parents didn’t appreciate my commentary on certain current events.”
Anna’s heart sinks. There is no shortage of topics for him to choose from with the anti-war protesters demanding an end to military presence in Vietnam to civil and land rights for Indigenous Australians. “Khiran—”
“I’m not sorry for it,” he says, voice as low and level as his stare.
“I would never ask you to be,” she murmurs fondly, expression softening. Discreetly, she leans closer until her knee touches his. One of the reasons she had suggested he try this field was so he could see there were ways he could still make a difference in the world. That he is just as capable of inspiring change as she is.
She won’t scold him for teaching the truth.
“You worry over nothing.” His fingers curl along her palm, coaxing her hand open until he can trace her heart line. There’s a warmth in his eyes, sly and brimming with mischief. “I have everything handled.”
It’s a bit of a game they play—subtle touches stolen in the teachers’ lounge and between their classes. Little things that wouldn’t go so far as to get them in trouble should they be caught, but not so innocent that their students are blind to their affections.
To her (and she suspects, Merryweather’s) disappointment, their relationship had quickly become one the school’s favorite topics. Her students would often teasingly offer to pass notes to her husband, and every Friday there always seemed to be an inquiry on whether she and Khiran had any romantic plans for the weekend. Anna can’t quite say she minds it too terribly. Even if they’ve become a bit of a joke on campus, it feels more friendly than anything. Just a few weeks ago, she had a student confess that she thought it was sweet that they still loved each other despite working together.
Still, Anna tries to focus on teaching her students French and not encourage it.
Khiran, of course, has no such reservations.
Some days he sends his students over with little mundane gifts like erasers with little hearts penciled in at the corners or tiny stems of bluebell flowers he plucked from the track and field on his off period. The week he sent along little bits of poetry scribbled on scrap pieces of binder paper had her entire class of teenage girls swooning and giggling the entire period. She had to forbid him from sending more, just so she could get them to focus on her lessons instead of her marriage.
She knows for a fact that he wasn’t at all sorry, but she also might have saved those little scraps of paper, too, so perhaps she wasn’t really either. Even if it meant suffering Principal Merryweather’s reprimands the next day.
Though, she supposes taunting their employer has become a game in and of itself to Khiran. Her husband’s subtle jab at retribution for all the hours Merryweather has complained to himabout his failing marriage. He doesn’t say it, but considering his distaste for the man, Anna suspects he had a lot more to say about her gender in general. None of it, she expects, is good.
“I thought the plan was to save before picking up and going to another town,” she says, keeping her voice low. “At the rate you’re going, Merryweather will be happy to chase us off the continent himself.”
“Merry and I have come to an understanding,” he says, too cryptic to trust.
“Which is?”
His voice drops, the curl of his mouth turning wicked. “He keeps me on till the end of the year, or I tell his wife and the entire school he’s been having an affair with his neighbor.”
Anna’s head swivels to face him. “What?! How long have you known about this?”
“Since I caught her bringing him a plate of cookies.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re having an affair!” she hisses.
“Merry is one of the most miserable human beings on this side of the continent. Whyelsewould she bring him cookies? Homemade at that. I might have snatched one while he wasn’t looking—don’t worry. Yours are better.” He looks entirely too proud of himself. “Besides, you should have seen his face when I threatened to expose him. I didn’t know people could go so purple.”
