“Where’s Miss Love?”
“Didn’t someone say she looked sick yesterday?”
“I heard she had a fight with another teacher—”
Genevieve did not join the speculation. She’d begun to feel a stirring of unease, seeing clearly in her mind the way the young teacher had looked so afraid yesterday, remembering the soft sounds of crying behind the closed door.
“She’s probably in the bathroom tossing up her cookies,” Devine Jackson said loudly. “Didn’t y’all know she was pregnant? Bet you’ll never guess who the daddy is...”
The class was getting out of control. Genevieve stood up to do something and then sat back down with a thud. The room had instantly gone quiet. Ms. Pierce, her face smugly satisfied, had walked into the room.
“Now, now, Miss Jackson,” Ms. Pierce said sweetly. “We all know better than to spread nasty little rumors, even if they may be true.” She set her purse down roughly on Miss Love’s desk, knocking a stack of papers to the ground. “Because I once again seem to be left with no sub plans, it looks like we will be reading silently from the text.”
“Um, what text?” Carlos asked.
“Oh, you haven’t been provided with your required reading material for this class? What a shame. And not at all a surprise,” she added contemptuously.
Genevieve balled her fists against her thighs in fury. “We’re supposed to have a discussion today,” she said firmly. “Where is Miss Love?”
Ms. Pierce slowly turned her head toward Genevieve and stared at her coldly before answering. “I don’t believe that is any of your business, Miss Winterland. I am the teacher of record today, and as such, I will choose how you spend your time in my class.”
Genevieve flushed but said no more. Engaging in any conflict with this woman was a losing battle; she was determined to hate everyone around her.
Ms. Pierce called on two students in the front row to pass out stacks of textbooks. “When you have your book, open to chapter one.” She began walking the room, monitoring.
Feeling rebellious, Genevieve whipped out her phone, barely attempting to hide it. You are not going to believe this, she typed to Brandon. Miss Love is missing! She tucked the phone beneath her knee and flung open the cover of the book that had just been set heavily on her desk. Her heart was beating fast.
Ms. Pierce continued to patrol the next aisle, her back toward Genevieve. Genevieve quickly pulled out her phone again and read the reply with dismay.
What do you mean “missing?”
She gritted her teeth. Brandon was always so concerned with semantics.
She’s not HERE. And guess who’s taking her place? She punched in a string of witch emojis and fired off the text, glancing up to see Ms. Pierce berating a student in the front row.
Brandon’s reply was swift. Then you shouldn’t be texting. Talk to you after class.
Genevieve glared at the screen, but she had to admit he had a point. If she was caught with her phone again, Ms. Pierce may not give it back this time.
The rest of the period passed in miserable silence. Genevieve paged dully through the two assigned chapters, her thoughts circling over the issues of the past few days—Ms. Pierce’s verbal attack, Miss Love crying, Tyler and his scowl and the way he’d smashed the glass. The trail of blood on her ice cream parlour floor. Soon the swirl of her thoughts whipped their way into a full-blown tornado and she was caught up in imaginary conversations with her father, heard him again push her toward college and away from Pinewood. Away from Sweet Dreams.
Genevieve sighed and tried to shove aside the thoughts, tried instead to think of the things that brought her joy. That was easy—she began brainstorming next week’s special: Sugar cookie... cookie dough... Sugar Cookie Cookie Dough? She sat up straighter. Brilliant! A vanilla ice cream with chunks of both cookie dough and baked sugar cookies. Or cookie dough ice cream sandwiched between sugar cookies? No, the first was better.
When the bell rang, Genevieve felt a million times better. Creating new dessert flavors and recipes always cheered her up. She stuffed the tome of an Econ book in her bag, stood, and joined the mad rush to escape the stuffy and oppressive room 209.
Math went by quickly, and the energy and focus required for the class kept any anxious thoughts from creeping back. Afterwards, however, Genevieve’s anxieties were reignited. She met up with Brandon as usual by the double doors of the cafeteria and filled him in on the situation with Miss Love in an attempt to solicit any concern on his part on the way to English Comp. Naturally, her efforts were in vain.
“No offense, but don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?” he said. “I mean, she’s absent, so what? Maybe she’s sick.”
Genevieve was unperturbed. “You didn’t hear her yesterday,” she insisted. “I’m telling you, she was scared. And Ms. Pierce knew something about it—she was so snotty in class today.”
Brandon snorted. “As opposed to any other day?”
“You know what, never mind,” she said, waving him off crossly. They’d reached the outside of the classroom, where a group of students had clustered in the doorway, engaged in an animated discussion which Genevieve realized was about Ms. Pierce and Miss Love.
“She actually said that?” Carly Jamison asked in shocked disbelief.
“I heard her say it; I was right there,” Bree Thompson said firmly. Bree was a studious, practical girl who’d already earned her associate’s degree and was preparing for coursework in pre-med. She was certainly not inclined to gossip.
“What are you guys talking about?” Genevieve said, ignoring the tug on her sleeve which was Brandon trying to steer her away.
Carly turned to her with real concern in her eyes. “Genevieve,” she said, “did you know Miss Love is missing?”
Brandon groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead, but Genevieve ignored him. “I know,” she said. “I have Econ first period, and Ms. Pierce was there instead. She made us read,” she added resentfully.
“I had Finance last period,” Bree explained to Genevieve, “and Ms. Pierce gave us assignments for the rest of the week. She told us to expect some big changes to the curriculum.”
“What?”
“That’s not all. I—” The bell rang, and Bree looked hesitantly around, then dropped her voice to a whisper. “I overheard Miss Love in the principal’s office yesterday when I went to turn in the petition to run for class president. It was at the end of the day and Miss Annie wasn’t there, so I walked to the back where the mailboxes are and... I heard Miss Love. I know it was her. She said she’d been receiving death threats.”
“Death threats?”
“And she didn’t know from who. She was in tears,” Bree said, twisting her hands in distress. “I’m not kidding. She was in actual tears, and then Principal Mattison’s door closed and I couldn’t hear anything else. And now… now she’s gone.”
“Maybe she took some time off to deal with the issue,” Brandon suggested. “She could be at the courthouse right now filing an order of protection.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly where she is,” Genevieve agreed, hoping to reassure both Carly and Bree, but as they filed into class she whispered to Brandon, “This is Ms. Pierce’s doing; she’s trying to scare Miss Love and chase her right out of her job.”
