Chapter Twenty-Five

Ava

I manage to hold it together until I get home. The moment I pull into my garage and park my vehicle, the waterworks start and don't stop.

This is exactly why I didn't want anyone to know I was seeing Gavin. This is why I fought the attraction to him in the beginning. I knew this could blow up in my face, as it has.

I know if that old photo of me hadn't been posted, then me seeing Gavin wouldn't be a problem. I wouldn't have the rule about not getting involved with the dad of one of my students and we wouldn't have had to hide. Yet, here I am, reliving one of the worst times in my life, professionally, because more photos have appeared of me on social media.

I know I need to talk to the superintendent. I need to tell him about the photos before he hears about them from some of the people against the idea of me dating a student's father. But I also need to see the post. I didn't think to ask Gavin to see it, which clearly he did. I'm assuming someone sent it to him, most likely Max, since he's the one who found it and called.

God, I can't believe I'm the subject of drama.

Again.

This is exactly what I've been trying to avoid. This is what I was afraid of happening.

But then I picture Gavin's handsome, smiling face, and all I want to do is run straight back over there and let him hold me in his arms. I know he wanted me to stay with him, to figure this out together, but I needed space. I needed time to breathe. I need to figure out how I'm going to talk to my bosses and do damage control on my reputation.

Boy, that thing has sure taken a beating these last few years .

My phone keeps chiming with unread texts and ringing, but I ignore them for now. I'm certain it's my friends, having heard about or seen the latest post about me. Grabbing my phone, I fire off a text Gavin.

Me: Are you able to send me copies of what's posted online?

He replies right away.

Gavin: Yes, I can send you the screenshots Max sent me. Hold on.

His message is proceeded by four snapshots of an online post from Anonymous.

Gavin: How are you? What do you need?

Before I click on the images, I fire back a response.

Me: I'm okay, and I don't really know yet. I'm going to call the superintendent and see what he thinks.

Gavin: I'm here, Ava. Please don't shut me out. We're in this together.

I smile at his reply, warmth washing over me. He truly is one of the good ones, and I'm dang lucky to have him in my corner.

Me: I know, and I appreciate that so much. Give me just a little time.

Gavin: Take all the time you need, but not too much. I miss you when you're not here.

Me: I miss you too.

Gavin: Don't even think about pushing me away, all right? I won't go. You jump, I jump. Or whatever it was Leonardo DiCaprio said in Titanic .

I chuckle at his comment, smiling down at the screen. Even when it feels like everything is crashing down around me, he knows how to bring a smile to my face.

Gavin: You smiled, I know it. I felt it. Every time you smile, it's like being bathed by the sun. It's the best feeling.

Even though I blush, his comment hits its intended target, and my heart skips a beat.

Me: I did smile. Thank you for that. I needed it.

Gavin: I've got lots more ammunition in my arsenal, beautiful. Come over when you're ready, and I'll make you smile all night long…amongst other things.

Me: I promise, when I'm ready, I'll be there.

Gavin: My door is always open, beautiful, but don't take too long. My bed is cold when you're not there.

I don't reply, mostly because I'm not sure what to say. He's not wrong. I hate sleeping alone, even though I do it more nights than I have with him. Those nights we've been together are just…special. That's the only way to describe them. And there haven't been too many on account that he has his daughter every other week, but we steal a lot of time together on those off weeks, especially Friday and Saturday nights.

With a deep sigh, I click on the images he sent. The first thing I do is read the headline for the photos.

Guess who was caught together on Sunday? Gavin Pierson and Ava Rutledge were busted sneaking into Logan Johnson's cabin. Clearly this teacher has problems and shouldn't be around kids. First, promoting underaged drinking, and now sleeping with a student's father? Our kids deserve better than this.

A massive lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe, but I force myself to keep going. Clicking on the images, I scrollso I can get a better look at the screenshots. The first three pictures are of us kissing. If I stand back and objectively look at them, all I see is a man and woman sharing an intimate moment. It's not scandalous. There're no ulterior motives. Just two people in love.

In love.

Guilt slams me in the chest. When I close my eyes, I hear his words.

I'll be right beside you, Ava, because that's what you do when you love someone.

He told me he loved me, and I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't say it back, even though I feel the same way. I was overwhelmed by everything happening around me, and I didn't take the time to listen to his words. To reciprocate them. To tell him how madly in love with him I am, and how much I want to make this work between us.

But there will be time for that. First chance I get, I'll figure out the perfect way to say the words to him.

The fourth picture is of us smiling at each other, holding hands as we enter Logan's cabin. I remember hanging out in there for about an hour, watching him work, before I ran out to my vehicle and got the container of leftover food. We ate and chatted until the yawns started and I struggled to keep my eyes open. It had been a long day. Instead of going back to either my or his house, I ended up alone and promptly fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

That night, despite being about twenty-four hours ago, suddenly feels like a lifetime ago.

At the bottom of the fourth photo, I'm able to see some of the comments. The first two are complimentary, stating that it's no one's business who I date and finding the anonymous post tacky. But the third one definitely isn't in my favor.

"This doesn't surprise me. She's a terrible teacher. My son almost didn't pass fifth grade because of her. She needs to be fired." Reading those words aloud is like a knife to the chest. It burns and aches in the worst way.

I recognize the name attached to the comment, and honestly, it's not surprising. I had her son in class two years ago, and he was a huge struggle from day one. He didn't want to be there, created drama amongst his classmates, and refused to do the work. I tried everything to engage him and help him learn. His mother enabled him, telling me it was my job to get him to do the work, and she gave no encouragement, no help from home. So when he nearly didn't pass the grade, of course, it was my fault.

Sighing, I click out of the picture and pull up my contacts. I need to call the superintendent, even though I don't want to. It's after six, and I hate bothering him at home. But I feel this can't wait. Things like this will only continue to grow and fester until they erupt with toxicity.

Tapping on Mr. Jones's name, I listen while the call connects and rings. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mr. Jones, this is Ava Rutledge. I apologize for calling you at home in the evening like this," I say.

"It's no problem. What can I do for you?" he asks.

"Well, I, uh, I'm not sure how to say this, but I'm having an issue you need to be aware of."

"Go on."

I explain the situation with the photos and give him a rundown on the comments I was able to see. He doesn't say anything at first, but eventually breaks the silence. "Well, I hate that your name is being dragged through the mud on social media. I'll give Dana a call and discuss the matter with her."

Dana is Principal Dunn, who's in her second year at the position. "I was planning to call her after I spoke to you."

"You're welcome to, but I'll still do it. As you know, matters pertaining to employment and discipline also are brought to the board's attention."

My throat goes dry. "I know."

"I'm not saying there's any disciplinary matters here, Ava. Frankly, you're entitled to a personal life. I've known you for several years, and you're a fair, competent educator and employee."

"Thank you, sir."

"But this is also a small town, and yes, the people here have a way of making your business their own. If it weren't for the issue you had a handful of years back, this wouldn't even be discussed."

"I know, and I get it."

"You're welcome to take tomorrow and Wednesday off. We have a board meeting Wednesday, and with that, an executive session to discuss any employee matters. If I know the board, they'll want to discuss the accusations against you."

It's hard to swallow over the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. "Could I…Is there a chance I'll be fired, sir?"

"I wouldn't think so."

His reply doesn't exactly soothe the worry and ache in my chest. "I'm not sure about taking the days off. I don't want it to appear I'm hiding."

"I understand that, and only you can make the decision. But you have the time saved up, and if you need to take a couple days to calm down, I'd understand. Dana will approve it, I'll make sure. If you don't take them off, be prepared for questions and probably some comments. Good and bad. You know this town as well as I do, and when drama arises, everyone has an opinion to state, and they will state it."

I nod in understanding, even though he can't see it. "Thank you, sir. I may go ahead and take a few days off."

"I'll let Dana know, and she can arrange for a substitute. Keep her posted if you want to take more than just the next day or two."

"I will, sir. Thank you for taking my call."

"It's no problem." He pauses before adding, "You're an amazing educator, Ava. I know you've had your fair share of issues over the years, but our district is very lucky to have you. If asked, I pledge my support to you. You're allowed a personal life, and I'm certain there will be no findings of misdoings where your student is concerned."

"There won't be. Annabelle Pierson is a bright student. The grades she's received have been earned, not given because I was seeing her father. You could ask Mr. Parmelee," I state, referring to the fourth-grade teacher.

"I'm sure it won't come to that, but I'll take it under advisement."

After a few seconds, I ask, "Should I plan to attend the board meeting on Wednesday?"

"You're more than welcome to, as you are with any public meeting. There's a portion on the agenda for public comments, and if you'd want to speak to the board, that would be the time."

Ugh, the thought of getting up in front of the board and the community members who attend is enough to cause me to break out in hives. Give me a classroom full of kids, and I'm fine, but there's something about speaking in public like that, especially to defend myself, that makes me want to crawl into a hole and hide.

"Call me if you need anything. Otherwise, plan to take the next two days off, and if you want the rest of the week, just let Dana know."

"Thank you, again. I appreciate your support."

"You're welcome. Talk soon."

We hang up, and even though I appreciate his candor and kind support, it doesn't help settle the tsunami of emotions in my chest. My heart hurts. Being a teacher brings a certain level of scrutiny. Not all parents will support you. I get that. But this is different. This is public scrutiny, and I'm not in favor of it. In fact, I despise it completely.

I give Dana a call after waiting about thirty minutes. As suspected, she has already spoken with the superintendent, but she's also fielding other calls and comments. A small group of parents have already stepped forward, outraged by my actions and calling for my dismissal once more. She didn't state who is leading the charge, not that it matters.

The damage is done.

My dream of working in my hometown until retirement may very well be in jeopardy.

The board might look at me as a problem child, for lack of a better phrase, and decide my contract isn't worth keeping. There may be a nationwide teacher shortage, but sometimes you have to cut yourself loose from things that bring you grief.

What will I do then?

I can't imagine any other school district jumping at the chance to hire a teacher who's constantly being talked about and may or may not have lost her previous job because of public backlash and scrutiny.

The thought of having to find another job makes my stomach roll. I love my students, my school, and this town, despite the fact they're throwing me under the bus right now.

But I love Gavin more.

How quickly my perspective changes when I think about him. He's simply amazing, and if I have to choose between working at Pine Village Elementary School or finding another job so I can continue to date him, I already know which one I would choose.

Guess it's time to freshen up my résumé, huh?

I shake my head at the thought. I'm not afraid of it, but I really hope it doesn't come to that.

My time with Gavin has been special, and looking back, I wouldn't change it for anything. Even now, knowing I could lose everything I've been working toward my entire career.

As I get ready for bed, my phone chimes with a text alert. Even though I have dozens of messages I need to reply to from colleagues and friends, I click on the one name that brings me comfort during this mess.

Gavin: Heading to bed and thinking of you. I wish you were here, so I could hold you while you sleep.

Gavin: Please don't stress and worry, beautiful. I'm sure that's easier said than done. I can practically hear the wheels in your head spinning from here. You will get through this. We'll do it together.

He keeps saying that word.

Together.

Gavin: I'm glad you're taking the next couple of days off. No reason to put yourself directly in the spotlight while you're trying to work. Your dad is right, you don't take nearly enough time for you. Try to relax. Read a new book. Create something beautiful in your craft room. Just be you.

After I talked to the principal, I called my dad. He was outraged on my behalf, but seemed genuinely happy when I told him who the man was. He's known Gavin for a while and has the utmost respect for him professionally. Personally, he's now his biggest cheerleader, and during the conversation, he kept offering his approval.

Once I filled my dad in on what's happening, I messaged Gavin with an update. He knows I'm taking the next two days off and will be attending the board meeting Wednesday night. I still don't know if I'll speak, but I want to be there, to hear what others will say to the board. Maybe then I'll decide to speak on my behalf.

Gavin: I have something to say to you, and I'm going to say it the first chance I get. But not in a text. I want to look in your mesmerizing brown eyes when I do.

Gavin: Sweet dreams, sweetheart. I'll talk to you soon.

Smiling, I reply, wishing we were lying in bed, snuggled together beneath the blankets.

Me: Good night, Gavin.

I insert the heart emoji, hoping it conveys how I feel without saying the words. I can assume to know what he's wanting to tell me, and it most likely is the same thing I want to tell him. Face-to-face. So I can throw my arms around him and show him how I feel in a kiss.

Sleep doesn't come easy, but it eventually does. Dreams of me, Gavin, and Annabelle carry me through the night until I'm awakened by more phone calls and texts.

These next couple of days won't be easy, but I'll get through them.

I always do.