I pulled out my phone with thick woolen mittens.
Oh damn, if this was the school calling to say I had to come back for a staff meeting. . .
But it wasn’t. It was a message from an unfamiliar number.
Can we talk? - Jesse
I stared at the words with undiluted horror, my stomach churning with nausea and revulsion.
That he woulddare.Daresend me a message like that.
After a year not talking to me. A year withher.
What could this even be about?
Maybe he was about to ask her to marry him, and he wanted to warn me. Prepare me. Spare my feelings as much as he could.
What should I say?
I didn’t need or want his pity. What could I say to convince him of that?
Ugh.
Then my phone vibrated again.
I miss you
Can I call?
My jaw dropped.
What thefuck, Jesse?
Was he fuckingdrunkor something? At 3:30 in the afternoon?
My hands felt frozen as I ripped my mittens off to try to figure out what to reply, my steps slowing as I reached my street.
My fingers hovered over the letters, my breath catching in my throat.
But before I could decide what to say, I saw the three little dots lighting up to show he was typing something else.
I wrote backStop drunk-texting me
Then I blocked him.
Chapter Three
The next day I got to school, determined to shake off my unease, even though the few words he had texted seemed engraved into my mind.
What would he have to talk to me about? I couldn’t think of any good reason unless it was from some stupid misguided belief in saving my feelings.
Well, he would see from me blocking him that I had no desire or need to talk to him.
Everyone was settling down after recess when my co-principals Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Macduff hopped into the room.
Mr. Montgomery was tall and Black and Mr. Macduff was short and white, and they bothlovedteaching andhatedbeing the Principal, so they had compromised on sharing the job, as both men were the best of friends.
“You’re a hockey fan, aren’t you, Josephine?” Mr. Macduff asked eagerly.
