Page 52 of Check You Out

Aidan

25 Days until the Council Meeting

The hot coffee burns my tongue. I jerk and hiss out a curse as I try to prevent the spillage from cascading onto my clothes. I can bear a burn and the pain associated; however, I can’t afford to throw out a good shirt or a decent pair of pants because of a massive coffee stain.

“I hope you don’t use that language with your students, Mr. Talbot,” a voice scolds from the door.

“Ms. Hartlett,” I remark cooly, hiding my displeasure over this parent-teacher conference under a big smile. “Please come in.”

Setting down the coffee, I turn to the woman who I now know is leading a movement against keeping the library. She sits down in the chair I set up in front of my desk.

I glance at the clock. Four o’clock. Good, she’s on time. If she’s on time, then I can leave here at a reasonable time, and then get home and play Stardew until I can collapse in bed and dream of Charlotte.

Nineteen hours until my date with Charlotte. Fuck yeah!

Steeling myself, I begin, “So, Ms. Hartlett, regarding Jackson’s per—”

“I’d like to wait for my fiancé please,” she remarks while tapping her fingers against my desk, showing off a large shiny rock on her finger. “As Jackson’s soon to be father, he should be here for this conversation.”

“Of course,” I reply with my pasted-on smile. I didn’t know she had a fiancé. It’s not on the student information form and it hasn’t come up in previous parent-teacher conversations. “How is your day?”

“Fine.” Ms. Hartlett pulls out her phone and starts tapping on it.

There goes my attempt at small talk. Part of me wants to thank her for giving me an out over the dreaded social requirements: chit chat. The other part of me sees her rude and disrespectful.

I input grades from my latest pop quiz instead. I’m about halfway through when a suited gentleman strides into the classroom, and Ms. Hartlett squeals, “Pookie!” He flashes us with a wide toothy grin and reaches a hand to me.

“Hi, I’m Stephen Gott. Apologies for my tardiness. I had important business to tend to.” He winks.

Ms. Hartlett fawns over him. “Oh, we haven’t gotten started yet.” She stands up and squeezes his arm. “This is my fiancé.” She draws out the word, fiancé. “We’re having a fall wedding. It’s going to be the event of the year.”

“Congratulations,” I mutter out. My stomach drops and my mouth feels like sandpaper. This is the guy who’s responsible for potentially shutting down our town’s library and stifling the major public cultural and educational center in town. He’s engaged to the woman leading the countermovement.

I smell a conflict of interest.

Eighteen hours and forty-seven minutes until I have my date with Charlotte.

With that pasted-on smile, I shake his hand. At least his grip is firm and steady. I’m tempted to squeeze back harder, assert dominance. Dan always told me he would do that to people who annoyed him. Ironically, he never did that to me. “I’m Aidan Talbot, you’re stepson’s English—”

“Son,” Ms. Hartlett snaps with a curled upper lip. “We don’t use terms like ‘stepson’ or ‘stepfather’. They’re demeaning and don’t describe the full extent of the County Executive’s relationship with my darling boy.”

I nod, rolling my lips together. “Thank you for the clarification. Now, I’m assuming you read my email about Jackson’s book—”

“Yes, I read that email, and I’d like to know why you’re picking on my son,” Ms. Hartlett scowls. “He’s so smart and so talented. It’s like this entire year you’ve been finding fault in his performance, and I don’t appreciate it.” She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear before jabbing that same finger at me. “He’s got such a bright future, and I think you’re keeping him from fulfilling his potential.”

My nostrils flare. Maybe I should’ve invited admin to join us. Or at least my team leader. But no, admin is too busy, and my team leader is putting out a fire of her own. It’s just me against one difficult parent and one influential person who could potentially make my life miserable if he doesn’t get his way.

“Ms. Hartlett, I am not picking on Jackson at all. I treat him the same as I do any other student.” I keep my voice even and cool, trying to hide the anxiety coursing through me. “I do agree that Jackson has potential, but he’s just not following through or directing his efforts appropriately. Now, did you read my emai—”

Again, Ms. Hartlett interrupts me, and my blood boils. “I don’t need to read the email to know that it’s full of slanderous—”

“Now, now, pumpkin,” Gott quips, silencing her. “Mr. Talbot just wants what’s best for your son. Let us take a moment and read the email that this fine educator of young minds has produced for us. I had the pleasure of digesting it earlier, and I believe that it is vital to our conversation that you catch up with the rest of us.”

She crosses her arms and squirms in her seat in a move that reminds me of her little shit of a child. With a huff, she pulls out her phone and, I assume, begins to read my finely crafted email. I’m a bit disappointed that she hadn’t read it. That was some of my best work.

Gott shifts in his seat and unbuttons his unwrinkled navy suit jacket. He gazes around my classroom and the various posters. “Nice little classroom here.”

“Thank you, it is small, but it’s works,” I remark coolly, biting my tongue and trying not to blurt out, “it’s especially tight in here with thirty hormone infused teens since the county keep reducing funding for education despite increasing enrollment.” I may have tenure, but I know that he could still make my life miserable in other ways.