The Teacher

“Not every student can afford a tutor. I think we can both agree that Addie has been through a lot in the last year.”

Under any other circumstances, this conversation would have enraged me. Cheating is wrong, and the fact that my husband would defend a student who copied off another kid is ridiculous. Especially since he seems to have made Addie his little pet project, despite the fact that I warned him about her. But curled up in his arms, I can’t work up much anger or even indignation. Nate cares deeply about his students, and I can’t fault him for that. It was one of his qualities that made me fall in love with him.

“So what do you suggest?” I say.

“Well,” he says, “obviously you can’t let her keep the grade, but if you give her a zero and a stern warning, I doubt she’ll ever try something like that again. And it will give her a kick in the teeth she needs to pull her act together.”

“You think so?” Addie just seems so incredibly hopeless sometimes.

“I definitely do.” He kisses the top of my forehead. “I know that deep down, you want her and all your other students to do well. I think this is the best thing for her. You don’t want to wreck her life, do you? Even if you are still angry about what happened with Art. You realize that wasn’t her fault, right?”

Do I? I suppose he’s right. Addie Severson has been through a lot in the last year, and the truth is, I’ve been hard on her. Maybe because I’m angry that my own mentor lost his job because of her.

“Fine,” I agree. “I won’t go to the principal. I’ll speak to her about it after class and let her know that she’s getting a zero, but I won’t report her.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Eve.”

He kisses me one more time on the top of the head, then he rolls out of bed and hits the bathroom. The shower starts running a second later, and my phone buzzes on the nightstand where I left it. I pick it up, and there’s a message waiting for me in Snapflash.



Will I see you tomorrow night ?

I look over at the bathroom door, where the shower is still going strong. I’ve been looking for that kind of passion from Nate for a long time. In so many ways, it was absolutely perfect. Exactly what I wanted, and I’m hopeful there will be more times like it in the future.

And yet something is bothering me about the whole thing.

Maybe I don’t love the fact that as soon as it was over, he started talking about Addie. And then jumped right into the shower.

But in the end, it isn’t about him at all. It’s about the guy on the other end of this conversation. Jay scraped together enough money to buy me a beautiful pair of shoes for my birthday when my own husband got me nothing. I’ve never had to question if he had an ulterior motive. I can see all over his face how much he wants me. So I only have to hesitate a minute before I type a response:



I’ll be there.



OceanofPDF.com





Chapter Thirty-Four

ADDIE

KENZIE HAS CHEERLEADING practice until at least five o’clock, maybe later. Her parents with their high-powered jobs won’t be home until late as well.

I, on the other hand, have absolutely nothing to do with my time while I wait to find out whether Principal Higgins is going to kick me out of school tomorrow.

I park my bike down the block from Kenzie’s house, chaining it to a lamppost. I take my backpack with me as I walk up the street to her large house, the weight of my books causing the straps of my bag to dig into my shoulders. I walk purposefully, like I’m supposed to be here. Like I’m a friend of Kenzie’s, coming to visit her.

Even though that couldn’t possibly be further from the truth.

I ring the doorbell, waiting for the sound of footsteps. I ring a second time for good measure, but I am met with only silence. Just as I suspected—nobody is home. The house is completely empty.

I glance at the adjacent houses, which look just as dark and silent as the Montgomery house. When I feel confident nobody is watching me, I slip around the side of the house, tromping through the lush green backyard.

When I reach the back door, I dig around in the pouch of my backpack. I pull out the set of keys inside. I ditched the diamond-studded Kenzie key ring, but I kept the keys. Of course, it’s entirely possible that when Kenzie lost her keys, they decided to change the locks on the door. Then again, she lives in a safe neighborhood. Maybe her parents assumed she dropped her keys somewhere, and it wasn’t worth the stress of changing the locks.

Well, either way, we’re about to find out.

There are three keys on the ring, but one is larger and looks most like a house key. I take a deep breath and slide the key into the lock. I count to ten in my head, then I attempt to turn the key.

It turns.

I pause for a moment, listening for the sound of a barking dog. I don’t hear anything. So I turn the key the rest of the way in the door, twist the knob, and push inside the kitchen of the Montgomery household.

The first thing I do when I’m inside is look around to see if there is an alarm system. I’ve seen those before in other people’s houses, and what it would mean is that if I don’t disarm it, either an alarm will start sounding, or else the police department will be quietly notified. Either way, I don’t want that to happen. But I don’t see any keypad or signs that the house has an alarm.

Which is stupid on their part, because this house needs an alarm. As I step into the Montgomery home, I am taken aback. They have an open floor plan, so from their gleaming new kitchen, I can see the huge expanse of space and expensive furniture in the living room. Our house was built over one hundred years ago, and I doubt the interior has changed much since then. We have had the same refrigerator for my entire life, and I feel like it might outlive me and everybody I care about.

I leave my sneakers by the back door because their carpet is super light in color, and I’ve already made a few stains on the kitchen floor with my dirty shoes. I creep across the living room, over to the carpeted stairs. And then I start to climb them.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. It was bad enough that I cheated on an exam for the first time in my life (and got caught). And now here I am, only a few hours later, breaking into a house, for God’s sake. But this whole thing is Kenzie’s fault. She didn’t have to tell on me to Mrs. Bennett, and she didn’t have to do any of the things she’s been doing to me all semester. She deserves what’s coming to her.

When I get to the top floor, the first room I encounter is a bathroom. I step inside, admiring the gleaming white fixtures and the multicolored toothbrushes lined up on the sink counter. Oh my God, is that a seat warmer on the toilet? Would it be weird to try it out?

Yes, it probably would.

For a moment, I stare at myself in the vanity mirror of the sink. This is the same mirror Kenzie uses to look at herself every single day. Except when she looks into this mirror, her reflection shows perfect cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and silky blond hair, rather than my own nondescript features, with mud-colored eyes and hair.

I tap open the medicine cabinet with my index finger. It doesn’t surprise me that it’s filled with various skin creams and hair products. There are a couple of orange bottles of pills on the top shelf, and I pick up the first one.

Ondansetron. Take one tablet three times a day as needed for nausea.

Before I have a chance to wonder why Kenzie needs to take a pill for nausea, I turn the bottle and see that the prescription is for her older brother. Of course. Kenzie doesn’t get nauseous. She’s probably never vomited in her whole life.

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