Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Headmistress Nightworthy’s eyebrows climbed so high they nearly disappeared into her chic cap of silver hair.
“You’re openly admitting that you deliberately put a student in harm’s way because you disapprove of his sexual orientation?” she demanded in a low, dangerous voice.
Coach Vazquez lifted her chin defiantly.
“Damn right, I did,” she snapped. “His kind have to be taught a lesson. Maybe he’ll think twice next time about flaunting his sexual choices in front of everyone.”
“First of all, it’s not a choice,” I said in a low, level voice, though I was boiling with rage inside. “And second, who are you to judge me for the way I was born? Do I judge you for having black hair? Or tiny little eyes? Or a nasty look on your face like someone smeared dog shit under your nose and you’re smelling it all day?”
“All right, Mr. Connor, that will be quite enough,” Headmistress Nightworthy said, though I thought I saw the corners of her mouth twitch.
“Good—expel the little mariposa!” Coach Vazquez demanded. “I refuse to have him or anyone like him in my class ever again!”
“Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem, seeing as how you will no longer be teaching at Nocturne Academy.” The Headmistress’s eyes were snapping blue fire.
“What?” Coach Vasquez demanded. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that your employment at Nocturne Academy is hereby terminated immediately,” Headmistress Nightworthy snapped. “Take your things and go. I will not be giving you any kind of a reference either, so please don’t bother to put my name on any future applications.”
“What? But I’ve worked here for years!” Coach Vasquez’s nasty little eyes had widened with surprise. “You can’t fire me just like that!”
“I can and I have. And if you’re thinking of appealing my decision, please remember that you admitted to putting a student in harm’s way and allowing him to be attacked by other students because of your hateful views,” Headmistress Nightworthy said sharply. “Now please go. I have nothing more to say to you and the very sight of you sickens me. We are here to teach the next generation—not judge and abuse them. You sully the name of ‘educator’ with your despicable actions.”
The coach didn’t seem to know what to say about that. She simply glared at the Headmistress with hate in her eyes and I had the feeling that if she’d had a Drake of her own inside, she definitely would have let it out at that point. But since she didn’t, the only thing she could do was stalk angrily out of Headmistress Nightworthy’s office—presumably to collect her things and move out.
Maybe she could find a job somewhere else where they didn’t mind student abuse and homophobia. We were in Florida, after all—it might not be too hard for her, I thought. I just felt sorry for the students wherever she landed.
But then, just as she was about to close the door behind her, Coach Vasquez turned back.
“You know you’re harboring a cursed Drake, don’t you?” she asked, pointing at Saint. “That thing inside Santiago is a killer. It’s killed before and it will kill again if you let him keep roaming your halls.”
This was news to me. Kaitlyn had hinted darkly about my roommate’s past, but she had ultimately told us his story wasn’t hers to share—which we all respected, though to be honest, I was burning with curiosity. I stole a look at Saint, who had his elbows on his knees and his face bowed. I couldn’t see much but I thought his cheeks were flushed with shame.
But though the ex-coach’s words surprised me, Headmistress Nightworthy took her words in stride.
“Yes, I am well aware of Mr. Santiago’s past,” she said coolly. “I do not allow any student to matriculate here until I have run thorough background checks. Thank you, Dolores, you may go now.”
It was a clear dismissal and Coach Vasquez knew it. Her face darkened again and she slammed the door behind her—or tried to, anyway. No matter how much she grunted and tugged on it, it refused to close the final inch. Only when we heard her angry footsteps stomping off down the hall did it quietly snick shut.
I let out a long, relieved breath. Well, aside from the scary revelations about my roommate’s past, things had ended much better than I could have hoped for. Instead of Saint or myself being expelled, it was Coach Vasquez who had gotten the proverbial boot. Things were definitely looking up, I thought.
Then Headmistress Nightworthy turned her sharp blue eyes on the two of us and frowned.
“Don’t look so pleased, Mr. Connor,” she said. “We’re not done yet—not by a long shot.”
6
SAINT
I took a deep breath as the Headmistress turned her piercing blue gaze on me. So she knew about my past? About the ones my Drake had murdered?