Chapter 3

Word of Mike’s dismissal spread like a wind driven brush fire among Scirewood’s faculty, leading to dismay and perplexity for those who read the email that Linda sent immediately after Mike left her office. While short and direct, with very few details, its tone and careful wording left no doubt that Mike’s departure had been an involuntary one.

“Mike! Wait up!” Theresa shouted as she hustled across the small patch of lawn separating the admin building from the small gravel parking lot where he stood, with Rachel Rosen close on her heels.

Mike set down a banker’s box, overflowing with books and papers and manuals, onto the hood of his Aspen and opened the door with a grating squeak to toss his book bag onto the worn, vinyl passenger seat. He’d hoped to leave before anyone saw him, but Linda’s quick email ensured that everyone knew he’d been fired before he could make his escape.

“My god, what happened?” Theresa asked breathlessly when she caught up to him.

“Oh Mike, I’m so sorry,” Rachel intoned.

He didn’t know what to say to them, because he still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened or why, but the fact that the two women had rushed after him to ask about it probably meant that they weren’t the ones responsible for spreading the false rumors. He leaned against the fender of his car and shook his head.

“I don’t know. Linda accused me of doing something, and apparently that was all it took for her to fire me.”

Theresa opened her mouth in shock, but Rachel’s interest had been piqued.

“Accused you of doing what?” she asked.

He hesitated to say. It was embarrassing, and he didn’t want to further disseminate the baseless allegations that had been made against him, but it was only a matter of time before word got out and rumors started to spread. Better to establish a firm and unequivocal defense now, while he still had the opportunity. For whatever that was worth.

“That I had inappropriate contact with some of the faculty members and ... I don’t know, I guess some of the students as well.”

He left out the part about the medical supplies because that whole aspect of the situation still baffled him. Both women gasped, and Rachel covered her mouth.

“Oh god,” Rachel said, then briefly flicked her eyes to Theresa. “Did you?”

“Rachel!” Theresa chastised. “How can you ask him that?”

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to be sure.”

“No, of course not!” Mike said adamantly, unable to conceal his frustration and anger. “You know me. I would never do anything like that. Ever.”

That had come off sounding far more defensive than he would have liked, but he decided he didn’t care. If no one else would stand up for him, he could at least stand up for himself.

“I believe you, Mike,” Theresa said, then after a brief pause, she glared at Rachel with a hardened expression.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Rachel sputtered. “It’s total bullshit, obviously.”

Although she didn’t sound quite as certain as Theresa had, Rachel still gave him a supportive smile and rubbed his arm, lingering on his tricep a bit longer than necessary.

“What are you going to do now?” Theresa asked, noticing the contact. “I mean, you’re going to fight it, of course. Right?”

Mike shook his head. “Fight what.” He scoffed and pushed away from the car, then checked his phone. “Shit. I have to be off school grounds in the next five minutes or she’s going to call the cops on me. Look, I appreciate the support, but I have to go.”

“Wait,” Theresa said. “Where are you going?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. “Home, I guess,” he said, opening his car door.

“No way, fuck that. Just wait a second. Let me grab my bag. Wait for me, okay?” she said, running off toward the admin building.

Mike and Rachel both watched her go, then Rachel looked at him and flashed a quick smile before chasing after. “Hey, wait up!”

The three of them sat at a high top in the back corner of Beautyberry Bar and Grill, a little brew pub right on Main Street in the center of town. Mike chugged his cloudy IPA and sighed miserably.

“Man, this is so crazy,” Theresa said, shaking her head.

She’d managed to rest her hand on top of Mike’s in a comforting gesture, a maneuver that drew frequent glances from Rachel.

“So, what are you going to do to fight this thing?” Rachel asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something productive.

Mike shrugged and said, “There’s nothing I can do. Linda wouldn’t say who’s been spreading those lies about me, so I can’t even defend myself because I don’t know what it is I supposedly did. Besides, what could I do about it anyway? It’s Linda’s decision. She can fire whoever she wants.”

“Yeah right,” Rachel snorted. “She wishes. What did they tell you at the disciplinary hearing?”

“What disciplinary hearing?” Mike asked, furrowing his brow.

Rachel and Theresa shared a look.

“Didn’t you go to a disciplinary hearing? It’s in your contract, Mike. They have to conduct a disciplinary hearing before they can fire you.” Rachel read his expression. “Didn’t you read your contract?” Her lips quirked up when she realized he hadn’t. “There’s a whole binding arbitration clause in there!”

Mike sat back in his stool and blinked several times as he processed this new information, breaking contact with Theresa, much to her disappointment.

“Linda didn’t say anything to me about a disciplinary hearing,” Mike said at last. “Are you sure about that?”

Rachel laughed. “Sure as shit, I’m sure. My dad’s an attorney. He went over my contract with a fine tooth comb.” She thought for a second. “You know, I should put you in touch with him,” she offered. “He specializes in trusts and estates, but he’s a beast when it comes to contracts.”

“What about my severance?” Mike asked, drawing curious glances from the two women.

“What severance?” Rachel asked cautiously.

“Linda emailed me a document to sign and send back in order to be eligible for severance.”

Rachel leaned over the table to grab Mike’s hand. “Oh dear god, please tell me you didn’t sign that!”

“Not yet, but-”

“Don’t! Whatever you do, don’t sign that document, Mike. That’s how she’s planning to get away with not holding a disciplinary hearing. If you sign that, then you’re basically giving up any right you have to defend yourself.”

“Shit,” he said, exhaling a slow breath, unnerved by how close he’d just come to sabotaging his own career. He looked at her and nodded appreciatively. “I’m glad you guys talked me into coming here, because I think you might have just saved my ass. Thank you.”

Rachel smiled warmly and squeezed his hand. “Of course! It’s an ass worth saving.”

“What I want to know,” Theresa wondered loudly between sips of her yeasty saison, breaking their little moment, “is who’s been talking shit to Linda. It’s gotta be someone on the faculty, right? Do you think it could have been one of the guys?” she asked Mike.

“No way,” he said, shaking his head and swiping his hand, leaving no doubt as to his certainty.

There’d been some initial tension with Marcus and Davey when Mike was first hired, but when they saw he wasn’t a player, gearing up to plow his way through the ripe field of female faculty members, they relaxed and the three men soon became quite friendly with one another. They could often be found eating lunch together, chatting about movies and robots and other nerdly topics of great interest to no one other than themselves.

“Well it wasn’t me,” Rachel said, lifting her hand, then quickly added, “And it wasn’t Terry either, obviously, and assuming Linda didn’t just make it all up, it wasn’t her either. So who does that leave?”

“Bonnie,” Theresa said, ticking off one of her fingers. “Um, Priya.”

“Kristin,” Rachel added. “Who else?”

“Anne-Marie. That’s it. What is that? Four?”

Bonnie was Bonnie Parker, who taught history and civics. A thirty-four year old wife and mother of two, she was quiet and reserved and never given to idle chatter and gossip, which allowed the three of them to quickly rule her out as a likely culprit. Much the same could be said for Priya Nair, the academy’s chemistry teacher. A former analytical chemist at a major pharmaceutical company, she had a feisty attitude and a peculiar sense of humor, but when the thirty year old wasn’t huddled up in her office preparing lessons or grading papers, she preferred to be at home with her husband and young son.

“So that leaves Kristin or Anne-Marie,” Rachel observed.

Kristin Richardson was the school’s twenty-eight year old Director of Learning Services, and Linda’s right hand woman. A jack of all trades, Kristin was responsible for everything from the development and implementation of academic curricula, to organizing professional development sessions for faculty, and she was the main point of contact for parents regarding academic services.