Chapter 7: Chapter 7
Mrs. Long had a captive audience. She was a short woman, probably in her mid-fifties, with reddish-brown hair that came out of a bottle, though likely the bottle of a stylist. She had a nice manicure and was dressed in a black pantsuit. Though she was a bit robust, she had a kind smile, and Cutter had liked her the moment they’d met. She seemed to really know a lot about education. It was a shame he’d had to lie to her face so many times. It would also be hard to leave her with two positions to fill so early in the school year should things turn out the way Cutter anticipated, but there was nothing he could do about that. Hopefully, two of the candidates Lyric was researching as replacements would work for Mrs. Long. His team didn’t like to inconvenience people if it wasn’t necessary.
He realized he wasn’t listening, and by the time he brought his attention back to the front of the room, he caught the tail end of what she was saying. Luckily, he’d tuned back in just in time. “It will be nice to have another gentleman as part of our Thomas family. Ladies, please help me welcome Cutter Michaels.”
Not only did the room erupt in applause, there were actually some cat calls, which made Cutter blush. He wasn’t sure if he should stand or just wave, so he simply raised his hand and tried to acknowledge each table.
“Now, ladies, keep it civil,” Mrs. Long warned about the cat calling, although she had a small smile playing at her lips. “We need to make sure that Mr. Michaels is comfortable here. Remember, the sexual harassment training video we watch every year? That’s scheduled for later this week.”
Lots of teachers giggled at that, but someone across the room shouted out, “Does that mean we have until Thursday to flirt with Mr. Michaels?”
Cutter looked over and saw a plump, older woman, probably older than Mrs. Long, winking at him. He had to look away, his eyes wide. He had not expected this.
“No, Mrs. Paine, it does not.” Mrs. Long had her hands on her hips, and her expression revealed that Mrs. Paine must be a resident prankster of some sort, a thorn in Mrs. Long’s side, but of the fun variety.
“None of y’all ever try to sexually harass me,” Joe shouted. “I’m just sayin’.”
That got a laugh out of everyone. “That’s ‘cause you’re married!” another woman shouted.
“Yeah, and I don’t look like GQ over here.” He gestured at Cutter with his thumb, but he was laughing.
“We love you, Coach!” That came from Ms. Owen, whose accompanying smile looked forced, as if she just wanted everyone to think she was nicer than the rest of them. Joe didn’t acknowledge her.
“All right, let’s bring it back together,” Mrs. Long said. “We have some great information coming to you today, courtesy of the GT department. Then, we’ll meet as teams before lunch. This afternoon, you’ll be back in here so that we can go over the schedule for the rest of the week and the teacher handbook updates. Okay? I’ll hand it over to our gifted and talented teacher then. Mrs. Cox?”
As a spunky little brunette practically jogged to the front of the room, Cutter noticed that Joe had his magazine back open and was obviously tuned out. He couldn’t quite blame him. Did this apply to physical education? Cutter tried to listen, but she was talking about Gardner’s Learning Styles, and Cutter had no idea what any of it meant. He returned his attention to the back of Ms. Roberts’s head. She had a pen in her hand and every once in a while, she’d take a note. Maybe he could ask her to explain all of this to him later on, if he thought it was something he needed to know. Would this information be pertinent in the first few weeks of school? He likely wouldn’t be here much past that, and if the stirring in his soul was accurate, neither would she.
The GT presentation was only supposed to last until 11:00, but it was almost 11:30 before Cutter made his way to Ms. Owen’s room for the fourth grade team meeting. He walked in to see she already had stacks of papers prepared on the table with each of their names on them. Sitting down in front of his stack, he glanced at the others. “Oh, you spell it R-U,” he muttered, noticing the writing on the stack across from him.
Ru sat down in the student’s chair, which she fit in much more comfortably than he did. “Yeah,” she replied, with a shrug.
“Is it short for anything?” He flipped through the papers in his stack, trying to seem nonchalant, but he really needed to know.
“No,” she replied, another shrug.
Cutter raised an eyebrow in her direction.
“It seems you’re not the only one with an unusual first name anymore,” Jane said, taking a seat at the head of the cluster of desks she was using as an office table. “Cutter, you also have a strange first name. Is there any significance behind it?” She was smiling widely, like a politician with an insincere sneer on her face.
“No, just a name,” he replied, taking a turn at shrugging himself.
“Oh, I thought maybe your parents were cattle ropers or something.” Jane laughed at her own little joke, but no one else did.
Mustering his most sincere face, Cutter said, “My parents didn’t name me.”
Jane’s smile faded and her eyes widened.
“I was raised by wolves. Antarctic wolves.”
The two women across from him began to giggle, and Jane seemed stuck between wanting to play it off and join in or being offended. Peer pressure won out and she began to giggle, though it sounded as fake as her eyelashes.
“We can’t all have plain Jane names,” Candice mumbled under her breath.
Something about the way she said it must’ve caught Ru off guard because she started to laugh, even though she was clearly trying not to, and she almost began to choke. Cutter didn’t know if he should chuckle or be concerned. Ru had one hand over her mouth and one across her midsection, attempting to control herself. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she managed to squeak out.