Page 170 of The Lineman

I sighed, dropping my bag onto my desk. “Jessica, please. It’s too early.”

She grinned. “Did you have a good time? Were there candles? Rose petals? Did you and your mysterious, rugged, blue-collar lover stare longingly at each other in the firelight? I doubt his boobs are as perky as—”

“Jessica!” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You really need to stop reading those romance novels.”

“Never,” she declared.

The football players in the back, my own personal Greek chorus of chaos, had apparently been listening because they immediately jumped in.

“Yo, did you consummate the relationship?” Caleb asked, leaning back in his chair like we were in a bar and not a public school classroom. “How’s that even work? They don’t cover the gay sex in anatomy or sex ed or any of those classes. Is the gay sex like—”

“Caleb,” I snapped. “Stop saying ‘the gay sex’ please.”

“Okay, the gay screwing.”

“Caleb, I swear to God.” I stared at him. “I will put your scrawny butt in detention until you’re forty years old.”

Troy, my most obnoxious but somehow most lovable student, smirked. “Yousodid. Look at him. He’s glowing.”

“I am not glowing.” I rolled my eyes. “I moisturize.”

“Is that part of the gay screwing ritual, Mr. Albert?” Caleb asked, receiving a round of raucous laughter and jeers from his peers in the back.

“Youareglowing.” Jessica gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, Mr. Albert, did you get laid so good that it changed your whole personality? Are you preggers?”

The entire class exploded.

Chairs scraped against the floor, students howled, and I seriously considered calling out sick and running straight back to the mountains.

I held up a hand. “All right. All right! Everyone calm down—”

“WAS IT LIFE-CHANGING SEX?” Troy shouted like he was calling a play in a packed stadium.

I groaned. “Troy!”

Even Jamie, sitting quietly near the middle, was snorting into his sleeve, amusement pouring from his eyes.

I rubbed my temples. “Do any of you even remember what today’s lesson is?”

Caleb raised a hand. “Yeah, but, like . . . did you do it in front of a fireplace? That shit works with girls. Is the gay screwing ritual the same? Do fires enhance the experience?”

Jessica sighed dreamily. “You know he did.”

I walked straight to my desk, dropped into my chair, and pointed at the board. “Everyone shut up and open your books.”

Despite the absolute disaster of an introduction, the class actually settled in.

And, somehow—miraculously—the football and baseball boys in the back had actually done their reading. I damn near fell out of my chair when Troy correctly answered a question about symbolism.

“Wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Youreadthe assignment?”

Troy scoffed. “I always read.”

Caleb snorted. “Dude, yousodo not.”

Troy shrugged. “I did this time.”

“Are you sick?” I narrowed my eyes. “Is this a prank? Are you trying to impress someone? Did someone threaten your scholarship?”

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