right. Anyone else want to add your observations from last week’s lab? Neel, I remember you had several questions about the Bunsen burner.” The roll of laughter didn’t embarrass the first-generation Indian American who sat straighter and flashed a bright white smile.
“Jeffrey helped me with that just fine, Mr. Everlock.”
More laughter. Neel had accidentally singed his eyebrows with a Bunsen burner at the beginning of his junior year.
Had it been almost two years with this group already? They’d been the best Mitch had ever taught.
“I’m going to miss you losers over the holiday break. But we’ve still got three more units to get through in our textbook. Let’s keep the discussion going.” They all grumbled over their laughter at his teasing. They knew they were cherished, he suspected.
Mitch never got enough of the youthful energy. This class more than the others was special to him because they all wanted to be here, to go wherever their brains could take them. Which, for a good portion of them, would be very, very far.
Hopefully not as far as a war in Iraq or Afghanistan, where he’d been.
Using the techniques he’d learned through therapy sessions with his counselor, Zora, he took a deep breath and let go of the images of smoke and blood that filled his head as he was transported back to his time in the Middle East. The harrowing memories wanted all his attention—but he had a class to teach.
I’m in Silver Valley, Pennsylvania. I am safe. Today is Monday and it’s a B day on the school schedule.
The practiced reminder of reality settled him.
“Mr. Everlock?” Bright blue eyes reflected no notice of Mitch’s brief return to what had been his hell on earth.
“Shoot, Gabi.” Gabriella Boland had that line between her carefully shaped eyebrows, the line that meant he’d better pay attention. The straight-A student and senior class homecoming queen was as formidable in chemistry class as she was on the basketball court, where she hoped to lead her team to the state championships as she had last season.
“When are we going to get into how we can use chemistry to help the environment instead of making compounds that harm it?” Her face was innocent enough, her question valid, but could Gabi be the teen who’d written the message earlier? The one who’d left notes last semester, leading up to the last few weeks of school before summer break?
Keep your cool.
He hated how the threats were making him suspicious of every one of his students. It was like being back in the war—he couldn’t trust anyone.
“That’s something you can explore in your environmental studies at college, Gabi. For now, we’ll focus on getting our study guides in shape to tackle the final exams in six months. Mine and the IB’s.”
A collective groan rose at the mention of the International Baccalaureate exams that had, for this class, replaced the Advance Placement—AP—exams. Mitch held up a hand. “It’s the end of the first semester for me, too, folks. You’re not the only ones with a full load. You think I wouldn’t rather be getting my Christmas shopping done?”
Immediately wisecracks flew across the room, the students snickering as though they were back in middle school. Mitch ignored it. This was Mitch’s sixth class of seniors since he’d left the Corps, gone back to college and started his teaching career.
The bell rang and the classroom emptied. Mitch had two periods without class in front of him, almost two full hours. Instead of using the valuable time to grade homework or to prepare his lessons for the chemistry review, he had to go to SVPD and put in a full report of what had happened in his classroom since when the notes started last March. He’d given the responding officer his take and then been asked to leave the classroom while a forensics team did their work. It had chapped his ass to be cut out but he’d complied. As far as the SVPD was concerned, he was a normal high school teacher.
“Are the Rainbows still having their holiday celebration, Mr. Everlock?” Rachel Boyle had hung back when the other students had rushed out. Now she stood in front of Mitch’s desk, her close-shaven head a stark contrast to her large brown eyes and expertly made-up face.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”
Please, please don’t let it be Rachel. Or Gabi. Or any of my students...
She shifted on her feet. “I heard that some parents were stirring up the pot again.”
“Which parents would that be?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. They didn’t say.”
“Who’s ‘they,’ Rachel?”
“Just some of the kids at lunch. The hot gossip is that you’ve been getting warnings from the principal to cancel the Rainbows.” Her stance remained neutral but he couldn’t discount the concern in her eyes. The Rainbows had taken Rachel in as a sullen, shy freshman and helped her build her confidence to become the strong young woman who stood before him. A bright student who’d been dropping in her scores, showing less and less interest in her academics. Lately the Rainbows seemed to be all she cared about.
Mitch sighed. “You know I’ll never let them cut the Rainbows or any of its programming from the schedule. And Principal Essis is never going to let anything happen to the club, either. Silver Valley High is about inclusion, period. You know that and enforce it better than I do, Rachel.”
“I know you’re behind us, and most of the teachers are, but some of the parents are crazy, you know? They think the Rainbows turned their children gay, lesbian, bi or trans, and they’ll do anything they can to shut it down.”
“I can assure you, Rachel, that Silver Valley High will keep the Rainbows going as long as I’m here. And Principal Essis is supporting us, too.” He looked at Rachel. She dated boys but had shared at one of the Rainbows meetings that she’d joined because she understood what it felt like to not fit in, and wanted to support all students at SVHS. She wanted to support the group.
“Excuse me? Mr. Everlock?” A girl Mitch didn’t recognize had walked into the classroom via the back lab entrance behind him. He hadn’t heard her approach and it rattled him.
Where was his training?
“Hi. I’m Nika Collins.” The girl held out her hand to Rachel. “I’m new, my family just transferred.”
Mitch’s instincts went on alert. A midyear transfer? In senior year? This had to be the undercover officer Claudia had mentioned.
“Hi.” Rachel gave her a little wave and started talking to her. Mitch used the moment to check out the new “student.”
“I’ve already completed my credits to graduate but since we moved here before the end of the year the district wants me to attend class until graduation. We moved from Iowa.”
She was good, really good. With no makeup and flawless skin, her face easily passed for a teenager’s. Her clothes were adolescent typical, too, from her form-hugging polo shirt to her low-slung skinny jeans and Sherpa-lined suede boots. But those biceps and the overall athletic build that accentuated her feminine curves, her most definitely adult woman curves, confirmed his suspicion.
