Page 66 of My Forbidden Billionaire
I can feel Ms. Abadie’s gaze burning into me as I continue with my lecture. I try to focus on the children, on the way their eyes light up when I mention the dragons and the wizards and the adventures waiting for them in the pages of The Hobbit.
“Miss Andrews,” Ms. Abadie interjects from the back of the classroom.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry, but I’ve noticed that your class seems a bit lacking in engagement. Perhaps if you were to spice up your lesson plan a little, the children would be more interested in what you have to say.”
I bristle at the criticism, but hold my tongue. “I’ll take that into consideration, Ms. Abadie. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lesson to finish.”
She nods, but continues to stand at the back of the room, arms crossed, watching me like a hawk.
I take a deep breath and try to regain my composure. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, so Tolkien—”
“Miss Andrews, how about you skip the lesson on Tolkien all together and teach them about something more engaging? Something useful, perhaps. Something that will keep their attention and spark their creativity?” Ms. Abadie says, her tone condescending.
I grit my teeth, trying to remain calm. “I’ve been teaching literature for nearly a decade now, Ms. Abadie. I know how to engage my students.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like it, does it?”
I feel my face flush with anger at her words. There’s something about her demeanor and the way she’s scolding me right now that’s reminiscent of my mother. I take a deep breath and try to keep my cool. “Perhaps if you let me finish my lesson, you’d see that my students are fully engaged and attentive.”
When she doesn’t speak, I feel emboldened to continue, “I’m one of the most specialized people in this field, Ms. Abadie. Do you have a point with all this, or are you here just to interrupt this class and give the children something to laugh about with their parents over dinner?” I don’t know what’s happening right now, let alone how these words are even leaving my mouth. I can hear myself speaking, but I have no control. It’s like an out-of-body experience. I know perfectly well it’s a mistake to contradict Ms. Abadie—she’s the one person at this school I shouldn’t cross.
And I just did it in front of an entire classroom of students.
Ms. Abadie stares daggers at me. Instead of replying, she writes furiously on her clipboard and then gets up to leave. We all watch her as she heads out the door and slams it behind her.
“I am sorry about that, children. Honestly, I don’t even think I should have allowed her in here in the first place. I take full responsibility for that…”
“It’s not your fault, Miss Andrews … she’s just like that,” one of the children replies.
“Yes. All the older students say that she’s a grumpy old bat,” another student chimes in.
I try to smile but, somehow, I still feel defeated. I look at Clem who appears to be more serious than usual.
I don’t think the Wicked Witch of the West has spoken her last line yet.
The day is finally over. As usual, Ms. Abadie and her schemes broke through, trying to rain on my parade. All my students have vacated the classroom and, as I watch them disperse through the hallway, I head toward my own office.
It’s peaceful and quiet in here. The smell of old books and scorched leather envelops me like an old friend. But I can’t shake the awful feeling that Ms. Abadie is trying to find a reason to fire me.
A soft knock on my door breaks my thoughts. I look up to see Clementine peeking in at me through the small window and motion for her to come in.
“Miss Andrews, are you okay?” she asks with a worried tone that cuts straight to my heart.
“I’m fine.” I lie. “Just a little shaken up after that interaction with Ms. Abadie.”
She walks into my office and closes the door behind her. “Well, you shouldn’t let her get to you,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “You’re an amazing teacher and all of us know it.”
I lean into her embrace, overwhelmed with gratitude for her existence. “Thank you, Clem,” I whisper. “That really means a lot to me.”
“Of course,” she says with a reassuring smile as she pats me on the back. “And, if it’s worth anything, I thought your Tolkien lesson was really interesting.”
I let out a laugh of relief. “I’m glad someone appreciated it.”
She nods before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a colorful beaded bracelet. “Here, I made this for you. It’s a friendship bracelet,” she says with a smile, handing it to me.
Be still my heart.