launched into her HR speech. “What we do ask is that teachers who enter into relationships continue to set a good example for the students.”
“Naturally,” I said.
Marley’s head whipped in my direction. The look she shot me telegraphed a loud and clear “WTF?”
“We, uh. That is, Jake and I haven’t exactly defined what this thing is,” Marley said weakly.
“And that’s exactly why we have this contract. We certainly don’t expect our staff to give up their romantic lives just to be teachers. But we do require you to set a standard. One-night stands and short-lived, volatile relationships teach these hormone-addled teens that monogamy is, for lack of a better word, lame.” She slid two pens across the desk at us.
“It’s up to you to prove the opposite. So all I ask is you date exclusively for the remainder of the semester. Preferably the entire school year. But given both your histories and the temporary aspect of Ms. Cicero’s position here, that would be rather lofty.”
“You want me to sign a contract to be in a monogamous relationship with Jake Weston for the rest of the semester?” Marley looked pale like she’d just been given three months to live.
“Great summary, honey,” I said, cheerfully patting her bare knee. The woman was going to need CPR from the looks of it. “We’re happy to sign the contract,” I told the principal.
She looked relieved.
“Thank God. When Amie Jo sprinted in here purple-faced with the news, I was worried I’d have a problem on my hands,” Principal Eccles sighed. “She seemed rather insistent that there was no way the two of you were actually dating.”
“I can’t imagine why she’d think we weren’t being honest.” I was the epitome of innocence. “Can you, sweetheart?”
Marley didn’t answer to the endearment, so I kicked her.
She jerked out of her shock coma. “Oh. Uh. No. I can’t imagine, dear? Babe? Jake.”
I reached out and took her hand again. From all appearances, it looked like a sweet gesture, but I applied a little more pressure than necessary.
“Great. Because I have zero tolerance for adult drama in this building. Got it? I get enough of it from students and parents all day, every day. I’m going to do what it takes to keep this ship sailing smoothly. And if your relationship blows up or either of you give Amie Jo the tiniest excuse to go batshit obsessive over this like the Ninth Grade Class Trip Fiasco, I will not hesitate to take it out on you.”
I was basically crushing Marley’s hand, grinding her bones into a fine dust.
Faced with losing to Amie Jo, she recovered admirably. “We understand, Principal Eccles. I know that Amie Jo and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but you can count on Jake and me to maintain our…” Marley glanced at me, “decorum.”
“Wonderful. Now, if you’ll both just sign here and here and initial page three, you can be on your way.”
“What the fuck was that?” Marley hissed as soon as we exited the inner sanctum of the front office.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the trophy case.
“I’m welcome?” Her brown eyes were a little crazed, and I was enjoying the show. “Do you think you just rode to my rescue or something?”
“Yeah. I do.” Not only had I rescued a damsel in distress, I’d also fibbed to an authority figure. Both sides of my personality were pretty damned pleased.
“I don’t need rescuing!”
“Said the woman who could have hospitalized her entire team,” I reminded her.
“Not that again.”
“Now, you pick on Coach Dickweed and the boys varsity soccer team, who are as close to Jesus as you can get in Central Pennsylvania. And then you piss off Amie Jo ‘Evil Queen’ Hostetter. Do you have any idea what that woman is capable of?”
“Yes!” Marley shrieked. “For fuck’s sake, yes! Of course I know! And Culpepper knows exactly what I’m capable of.”
Classes were in session, and the lunch ladies were staring at us, so I pulled Marley to the closest exit. Outside, it was warm and sunny with just the slightest edge to the air. A sliver of the scent of autumn rode the breeze.
“You need a goddamn keeper. It’s like you’re trying to make terrible choices,” I told her.
“You’re not my teacher or my keeper, and my choices are mine to make. I just signed a contract under duress without even reading it! And now we’re what? Fake dating? For the rest of the semester? What happens if