Engaging the Competition by Melissa Jagears Read Free Book Online Page B

think she’d figured out how to teach better than him?
    â€œJames?” He gestured for him to stand, and the boy’s chair scraped as he stood.
    After several students read, Charlie came closer, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that stole over him when a strand of her hair tickled his cheek. “It’s a minute ’til,” she whispered.
    At the end of Forest’s paragraph, he cleared his throat. “Thank you, Forest. Seems time got away from me. We’ll continue tomorrow, no homework.”
    The sound of happy muttering, shutting books, and shuffling feet followed.
    He held up a hand. “Class dismissed. Have a good lunch.”
    After the last student filed out, Harrison turned to find Charlie fiddling with some papers. “Why’d you tell them to stand to read?” He picked up a stack of pencils and sat down in front of the large pencil sharpener bolted to the edge of his desk.
    â€œBecause of George.” Her hand went up to indicate the right side of the room, where the young man sat. “He doesn’t read well.”
    Harrison chose a pencil, brought it up to his face to make sure he had the tip, and leaned down to find the hole to insert it into the sharpener. “He’s improving.”
    â€œNot enough if he wants a good grade, considering his quizzes.”
    â€œSo why have him stand up?” Harrison started cranking.
    She shrugged. “I remembered that when I pleased the teachers by being quiet, I didn’t learn much that day. Sitting still took all my energy, my brain couldn’t handle anything more than keeping my foot from tapping and my backside in one spot. I figured George might improve if he could move around some but wouldn’t appreciate being singled out. I doubted you’d be happy if I told the students to walk around the room or something.”
    He had to admit, he never would have thought of that. He pulled out the pencil and blew off the shavings. The lead was broken. He reinserted the pencil. “I do remember you having a hard time sitting still.” He checked the pencil again. Still broken. “What else would you suggest to help?”
    â€œYou’re asking me?” At his nod, she shrugged. She walked toward him and watched him work the sharpener. “I never did get smarter even when I moved around, so maybe some of us just can’t learn well.”
    He frowned at his broken lead again. Maybe he couldn’t see that he was inserting it wrong, or maybe it was just a bad batch of pencils.
    â€œGive me that.” She held out her hand.
    He tightened his grip. “You think you can sharpen better than me? All you do is crank.” Why did the woman have to try to show him up on everything?
    â€œI’m just trying to help.” She tugged the pencil from his grasp, and the glint of her pocket blade flashed beside him a couple times.
    She sounded genuine enough, so why was she rubbing him wrong? Maybe it was because he couldn’t see her.
    â€œThere.” She handed him back the pencil.
    He held it two inches from his nose. “That’s the ugliest sharpening job I’ve ever seen. The sharpener makes it smooth and uniform and sharpens the lead as well.”
    â€œBut that machine rattles so much it breaks the lead. Whittling doesn’t waste half a pencil.” She picked up another.
    Huffing, he stuck in the next one and whirred the machine fast enough to match Charlie’s harried pace. Then his sharpener jammed.
    â€œHa!” She picked up the last one and was done with it before he got the milling disks unstuck. “See, sometimes a person with no book smarts can be useful.”
    â€œYou just always have to win, don’t you.” He forced himself not to run her asymmetrical pencils through the sharpener lest she think he couldn’t appreciate her help.
    â€œI wasn’t trying to win. I was just . . . Never mind, maybe I was.” She