What You Wish For by Kerry Reichs Read Free Book Online Page A

straightened.
    “Linda! I was just reading yo—er, evaluations of Jim.”
    Linda cast her eyes down. “I’m afraid I was rather frank.” Originally from Hong Kong, her British accent surprised first-time listeners. “But honestly, I don’t know what irritates me more—his complete disregard for the education of his students, or that we have to expend all this time and money to replace him with someone who cares.” She fiddled with the brooch on her knit dress. Linda was the only high school teacher Wyatt knew who dressed each day as if she was going to a corner office on Madison Avenue. It was like spying a snapdragon among weeds.
    “Please don’t apologize for being frank. Honesty makes evaluations useful. That’s why they’re anonymous.”
    Linda gave him a look, and Wyatt chuckled.
    “Hopefully we’ll resolve this mess soon. I have a stack of qualified resumés.” Wyatt didn’t believe in wasting time when something had to be done.
    “Yo, Mr. O!” One of the Quinn brothers waved from across the quad and executed a tricky maneuver on his Rollerblades. He looked up triumphantly just as Cass Bernstein walked out of the library sporting a tight T-shirt, causing the wide-eyed freshman to skate right into the trash receptacle.
    “Oh!” Linda gasped, and Wyatt half-rose. They heard the boy’s faint “I’m all right . . .” and saw his feeble wave.
    “Speaking of summer school . . . ,” Linda grinned. Then she became serious. “What are you going to do about Amber Paley?”
    Amber Paley was the married Summer Program Director. It pained Wyatt to pass her bovine gum-snapping face each day en route to his office. She made him sad.
    “Nothing,” said Wyatt.
    “You don’t think she could cause trouble?” Linda persisted. “She’s got quite a chip on that resentful shoulder, and for reasons unfathomable to me, she’s fond of Jim.”
    Wyatt sighed. “Amber’s a dim girl with a history of romance paperbacks who has substituted a resolutely average eleventh-grade science teacher for the handsome hero. I hate to punish her for a personal mistake.”
    “I’m happy for Jim to bear the consequences.” Linda smiled at Wyatt. “As long as we’re nattering on the street, do you want to grab a coffee?”
    Wyatt looked at his watch: 4:16 PM . Consternation settled in his chest.
    “Unfortunately I can’t. I’m waiting for someone.” He couldn’t help looking past her to the entrance. No battered blue Camry.
    Linda straightened. “Right then. I’m off to flag the bus.”
    Of course Linda would observe his green transportation day. “Husband can’t pick you up?”
    “Busy today. See you tomorrow!” She hurried off, a lilac bloom weaving among the black T-shirts swarming out of detention hall.
    Wyatt extricated his phone. No missed calls.
    “Mr. O, as a scholar and a gentleman, I swear to you I did not place the fecal matter in Coach Lugar’s backseat.” Seth Ames popped up in front of Wyatt, pimples shining in the sun. “This sentence to two weeks’ detention is fallacious. The musical musings of my band are suffering.”
    “Seth, you posted a photo of yourself engaging in exactly that crime for all the world to see on Facebook.”
    Seth looked crestfallen. “Dude. You’re on Facebook?”
    “My grandmother is on Facebook, Seth. Count yourself lucky you aren’t in detention all semester. Coach Lugar had to fumigate the car.”
    Wyatt tried to turn his attention to the latest issue of Education Week , but the article on algebra readiness couldn’t hold his attention. He kept peeking at his watch. He’d give it until 5:00 PM before calling her home.
    At 4:58 PM he broke down. There was no answer at her home number, not even the usual machine. At 5:11 PM he let it ring thirty times.
    “Something wrong with your car, Wyatt?” Paul Kelly was not going green.
    “Waiting on a ride.”
    “I won’t invite you for a beer then.” He winked. “But I want the details on poker night.”