Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
His eyes narrowed. “What worries?”
“The kind where I have to work between two of the people I hate the most,” I admitted. “I’m considering quitting.”
His eyes went a little squirrelly. “I could handle that for you.”
I smiled. “I might let you.”
He tilted his head, and I could see that I’d clearly intrigued him. “What’s the temperature like in the school regarding them?”
“No one really knows what to do about it,” I said. “The teacher’s lounge is incredibly awkward. All of the students know now what happened, and ten students have already transferred out of their classrooms. They have like a fifth of the students that the rest of us teachers have. And the teachers that are having to take up slack for them aren’t happy, because their class sizes have increased by a third.”
“They should be fired,” he said. “There’s no reason that they should get to stay if that many issues are arising from having them there.”
“I agree,” I said. “But if they get fired, they’re gonna sue the school board again, and the school board is more worried about that than the mental health of their students and teachers.”
The door behind Shasha burst open and a kid with a basket of rolls and drinks came hurrying out.
“Papa sent out a snackatizer,” the kid said. “He wants your honest opinion on them. Also, we brought sweet tea.”
“Thanks, kid,” Shasha said as he picked the basket up and held it out to me.
“What is it?” I asked as I reached for a roll looking thing.
“It’s a beef pirozhki,” Shasha answered for the kid. “Pretty much what y’all would call a kolache.”
“Gotcha.” I said as I took a healthy bite.
The food melted in my mouth, and I groaned. “Oh, man. This is fantastic.”
Cheese gushed into my mouth, along with some flavorful juices.
It was one of the best things I’d ever had in my life.
Shasha took a roll himself and ate it in two bites.
“Tell him this one is perfect,” I said.
“Pops told me you would say that, and he told me to tell you to tell him truthfully. Not tell him it’s perfect, because you know it’s not,” the kid continued.
“Okay, well tell him the juices are a little too much, and the bread’s a bit soggy, but they complement each other well, and it’s still fantastic,” Shasha answered truthfully.
My lips twitched at his honesty.
I took another bite and moaned. “I think they’re perfect. Then again, I’ve never had anything like it, so I have nothing to compare it to.”
I took the last bite and savored it.
My eyes snagged on the third one in the basket, but Shasha beat me to it.
He looked at me unapologetically as he ate it in two bites.
I narrowed my eyes at him as the kid said, “I’ll tell Pops.”
Then he was gone, leaving us alone once again.
“You could’ve shared,” I pointed out.
“I could have, yes,” he agreed as he wiped his mouth with the napkin next to his plate. “But I didn’t want to.”
“Do you always do what you want?” I asked.
“Sure do.” He leaned back in his chair. “Once you stop caring what everyone thinks about you, the second half of your life begins.”
I studied him for a long second before saying, “I’m sure that this is how you’ve always been.”
“And why would you think that?” he asked.
Our food came and I didn’t have to answer.
It was excellent, and I now knew why the line extended out the door and around the block.
When I was finished, I reluctantly stood up and said, “I have to go.”
He didn’t stand up with me, indicating he had no intention of walking me back.
I felt a small pang in my heart, but chose not to study it too closely, and headed out of the restaurant.
When I got back to the hotel, it was to find everyone settling in for the second half of the day.
I went back to my original seat with the teachers I’d come with and then slugged through four more hours of useless information that could’ve been an email.
Oh, the joys of continuing education.
There should be confetti in tires so when there’s a blow-out, it’s still kind of okay.
—Brecken to Shasha
SHASHA
I managed to stay the hell away from her for a total of seven hours.
In those seven hours, I was working, which was how I managed it for so long.
“The ship’s been located in the Pacific,” Daniil, my security expert, said without preamble. “I have ten of our own men and a hired army to land on them the moment they port. Or follow whatever boat comes out. We’re not breaching the ship as you instructed, though.”
“Good,” I said. “Call me with any updates you have.”
“Will do,” Daniil said and hung up.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and stared at the woman at the front desk, thinking about my instructions to Daniil in order not to think about why I was standing in a subpar hotel lobby.