Cornered Sample
The phone rang in Mrs. Johnson’s calculus class, and I sank into my chair with dread. She scuffled to answer it, clucked a few times into the receiver, and pressed it to her chest. Peering at us over her glasses, she zoned in on me.
“Courtney, please report to the office.”
A few of the kids snickered, probably with relief. I stood to leave and glanced over at Keegan.
He brushed a few strands of hair away from his deep brown eyes and offered me his sympathy face. I grimaced, shrugged, and pushed through the door into the empty hallway. My flats clacked out my progress with a hollow echo.
The secretary, Mrs. Pellan, waited for me in the office, perched behind the counter like a judgmental owl. “Courtney Phillips, this is getting to be a habit.”
“My mom again?” I asked, already knowing her answer.
“Yes, and we simply can’t have you interrupted at all hours with these calls. Mr. Anderson is not a happy camper, young lady.”
I sighed and held out my hand for the phone.
“Court? Are you there?” Mom’s whiny voice trembled through the line.
“I’m here, Mom. What’d she do this time?”
“The middle school just called, and Tiffy didn’t show up for school again. You know I count on you to get the kids off in the morning.” She paused for a huge gasping breath. “Didn’t you take her to school? She didn’t walk, did she? You and I both know…”
I held the phone away from my ear, letting her ramble into the air. Nosy Mrs. Pellan left her chair and inched closer, her eyebrows raised in a thin V across her forehead. I knew from experience Mrs. Pellan loved any hint of gossip. I pressed the phone back to my ear.
“…since she can’t do it alone.” Mom had finished her tirade.
“Yes, Mother,” I said.
“So you’ll do it then?”
“Give me a replay.”
Mom’s voice quacked an octave higher. “Courtney Phillips, have you listened to one word I’ve said? Now get over there to the middle school and find your sister.”
I handed the phone to Mrs. Pellan. “I have to go. Mom will explain. I’ll sign out, but I’m not sure I’ll be back.”
I scribbled my name and the time on the clipboard lying on the counter. I dashed out before Mrs. Pellan could return to lecture mode.
It wasn’t my fault.
But then it never was.
Thank you for reading!
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The phone rang in Mrs. Johnson’s calculus class, and I sank into my chair with dread. She scuffled to answer it, clucked a few times into the receiver, and pressed it to her chest. Peering at us over her glasses, she zoned in on me.
“Courtney, please report to the office.”
A few of the kids snickered, probably with relief. I stood to leave and glanced over at Keegan.
He brushed a few strands of hair away from his deep brown eyes and offered me his sympathy face. I grimaced, shrugged, and pushed through the door into the empty hallway. My flats clacked out my progress with a hollow echo.
The secretary, Mrs. Pellan, waited for me in the office, perched behind the counter like a judgmental owl. “Courtney Phillips, this is getting to be a habit.”
“My mom again?” I asked, already knowing her answer.
“Yes, and we simply can’t have you interrupted at all hours with these calls. Mr. Anderson is not a happy camper, young lady.”
I sighed and held out my hand for the phone.
“Court? Are you there?” Mom’s whiny voice trembled through the line.
“I’m here, Mom. What’d she do this time?”
“The middle school just called, and Tiffy didn’t show up for school again. You know I count on you to get the kids off in the morning.” She paused for a huge gasping breath. “Didn’t you take her to school? She didn’t walk, did she? You and I both know…”
I held the phone away from my ear, letting her ramble into the air. Nosy Mrs. Pellan left her chair and inched closer, her eyebrows raised in a thin V across her forehead. I knew from experience Mrs. Pellan loved any hint of gossip. I pressed the phone back to my ear.
“…since she can’t do it alone.” Mom had finished her tirade.
“Yes, Mother,” I said.
“So you’ll do it then?”
“Give me a replay.”
Mom’s voice quacked an octave higher. “Courtney Phillips, have you listened to one word I’ve said? Now get over there to the middle school and find your sister.”
I handed the phone to Mrs. Pellan. “I have to go. Mom will explain. I’ll sign out, but I’m not sure I’ll be back.”
I scribbled my name and the time on the clipboard lying on the counter. I dashed out before Mrs. Pellan could return to lecture mode.
It wasn’t my fault.
But then it never was.
Thank you for reading!
Buy Cornered Here:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords
Back to Ocean Mist Series
Back to Brenda's Books