Page 3 of Her Forbidden Teacher

I tear my gaze from his to put my phone away and pull out my Chromebook. Brown High’s budget must be a lot lower than my old school’s because these decrepit laptops are a far cry from the MacBook Pros we had before.

Everything is so different in my life.

Even where I live now.

“I’m Mr. Langford,” the teacher says once the bell rings and everyone is seated. “As previously stated, I have a ‘no-phones out ever’ policy. It means exactly what it says it means. If I see them, you can take a walk to Principal Renner’s office for him to hold onto them until the end of the day. Three times of this and you’re spending detention with Coach Long. Four times and I call your parents. Understood?”

He seems strict but when I snare his gaze again, there’s a kindness twinkling in his eyes. I give him a small smile hoping he can tell I’m not a troublemaker.

It’s only a matter of time before he knows what happened, too…

I cringe as I think about the staff discussing me in the teachers’ lounge. It reminds me of that story we read last year in English.The Scarlett Letter.I’m wearing one and the whole world is publicly shaming me for it.

“Mr. Langford?” a guy calls out from behind me. “What if my mom needs me?”

“She’ll survive for fifty minutes,” Mr. Langford says in a dry tone. “And you are…”

“A momma’s boy!” someone calls out for him.

“Shut up, Liam,” he grumbles over his shoulder and then to Mr. Langford, he says, “I’m Zayne.”

“Okay, Zayne,” Mr. Langford continues, a smile tugging at his lips, “if you need to talk to your mom during class, you have permission to go visit Principal Renner as long as all of your work is complete.”

The class cracks up and I even manage a small chuckle.

Mr. Langford’s gaze lands on me and he studies my expression before moving on to someone else. His shoulders relax slightly and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because I no longer look on the verge of tears.

“This is Agricultural Education, an elective I’m sure you all are so pleased to be taking,” Mr. Langford teases, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Can anyone read the classroom objectives from the syllabus?”

I glance down at my Chromebook and skim through the objectives quickly. Of course, I don’t raise my hand. The last thing I want is the entire class’s eyes on me.

“Miss…” Mr. Langford says, attention now on me.

“Monahan,” I rasp out. “Addison Monahan.”

Someone laughs in the back of the classroom, but Mr. Langford ignores them.

“Since no one else is ready to work and you’re the only one with your Chromebook out, can you read the objectives to everyone?”

My face heats and a tremble shakes its way through me. At my old school, this would have been something I could have easily done without a second thought.

Things are different now.

My confidence is gone.

“…too busy sucking dicks to learn how to speak…”

I flinch at the whispered words nearby. My skin turns impossibly hotter. Mr. Langford cuts his eyes in the direction of the nasty whisperer and gives them a warning glare.

After sucking in a deep breath and licking my lips to wet them, I begin reading off the screen. “We’ll explain the roles agriculture plays in our local communities versus a more global view.” I swallow and continue on. “Um, demonstrate safe practices while working in greenhouses, labs, and outdoor agricultural settings.” I glance up at Mr. Langford, and he nods, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Let’s see, uh, we’ll identify basic plant principles like propagation, nutrition, and pest management.”

“Boring,” someone mutters close by.

“Perhaps,” Mr. Langford says with a shrug, “but you still need this elective to graduate. Continue on, please.”

I continue to rattle off all the objectives, and when I finish, I’m thrilled to have everyone’s attention off me.

“Thank you, Addison. And there you have it,” Mr. Langford tells the class. “I’ll be looking for people to sign up for FFA and also the Greenhouse Club. In the resources folder, you’ll find the applications. Deadline to apply for both is at the end of this week.”