I shuffle a stack of blank exams into my arm and begin the arduous process of passing them out to each student. I don’t make eye contact with Kemper as I drop a paper pamphlet onto his desk, but I notice the way his gaze lingers on me once I’ve passed him.

When all the exams have been administered, I take a seat in my desk and switch on my computer, prepared to whittle away my time on menial tasks if for no other reason than to occupy my mind with anything other than the thought of the two men playing tug of war with my heart.

I couldn’t get so lucky.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Hamilton,” Kemper interrupts me from above. “I have a question about this exam.”

“Yes?” I purse my lips, trying to play it off as if he’s just one of my students. “What is it, Kemper?”

He leans in close—too close—and I place my hand between us, gesturing for him to take a step back. “Do I really need to take this exam?” He winks at me and grins wickedly. “Aren’t you just going to give me an A anyway?”

In my vivid imagination, I lunge across the desk and choke him. “No,” I clear my throat. “I’m afraid I can’t give you an extension.”

“Fine,” he pouts and straightens himself out. “Is something wrong?” he questions with a hooked eye.

I lean across the desk, resting on my elbows. “The only thing that’s wrong is you coming up to my desk like this.”

His shit-eating grin widens. “When do I get to see you again?’”

“Could you not?” I seethe through gritted teeth. “Please go sit back down.”

“Answer my question and I will.”

“I’ll stop by your place after football practice.”

“See?” He gestures with his hands thrown out to the side, and whispers, “That’s all I needed to know.”

I aim my eyes at his empty seat. “Go sit down, Kemper.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton,” he announces loudly as he spins on his foot and parks himself in his desk.

I turn my attention back to the monitor and open my staff email. The first three unread messages are from Ashley, each sent five minutes apart with the same urgent subject, We Need To Talk. The body of each email is blank.

I slump in my chair and groan to myself.

“I need to see you in my office.” Ashley points a finger squarely at me from the doorway. “Now.”

I swallow a nervous lump and shake her an affirmative nod. I cock my head to Kemper as I rise to my feet and see his eyes shift toward the door. I shrug at him in a controlled manner, but it doesn’t seem to ease his racing mind.

His eyes follow me out the door.

I peer through the frosted glass of the assistant principal’s door. It’s difficult to make out what’s happening on the other side of the door, but I can see faintly Ashley’s silhouette pacing back and forth across the short span of the room.

I prepare myself for whatever’s waiting on the other side of the door and push it open. She snaps her attention to me, glaring at me with remarkable disdain.

“Close the door,” she commands and I do so with no hesitation. “You’re a stupid girl,” she scolds me and points to the chair.

“Excuse me?”

“After what happened with Nathan, I thought you’d know better.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask quietly, but I really want to scream. She knows Goddamn well the role I played that night Nathan wrecked his car, and she knows I do not deserve the scorn.

“Sit down, Stassi,” her voice burns with rage, but I’m not one of her students.

“I’m good with standing.” I cross my arms in defiance. “Now, are you going to tell me what’s caused you to lose your damn mind?’

“I’m talking about your choices.” She zeroes her eyes in on me. “You’re self-destructing and maybe that’s on purpose.”

“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” I say dryly, my lips trembling and my heart revving, preparing to jump the track.

“I’m talking about this.” She lifts a stack of photographs and pushes them across the desk. I don’t bother picking them up, or cycling through them. I see the first photo adorning the stack perfectly clear—Kemper and I walking out of the Sunset Motel. “You’re going to resign.”

“No.” I shake my head. My mind is reeling—drifting around sharp curves of suspicion as I try and figure out who could have taken the photos. I settle on the answer that it doesn’t matter. The damage is done, but what I wouldn’t give to strangle my accuser. “I’m not resigning.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Please don’t do this to me,” I plead, on the verge of tears, but I hold them in, too terrified if I break, I won’t be able to pick the pieces back up again.

She bows her head, her resolve wavering. “I don’t have a choice.”

It takes a beat to work up the courage, but I come out swinging with a steadfast resolve. “I’ll end it tonight.”

“It’s true then?” She levels her eyes with me. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

I lap my tongue across my bottom lip. “Is it that bad?”

She slams her fist onto the table, and I flinch backward. “The fact you even have to ask that—“

“You were supportive when I told you I was having an affair.” I’m throwing everything out there, hoping something will stick so she can understand where I’m coming from.

“That’s so very beyond different.”

“Is it?” I shake my head. “Tell me, because I don’t know if it is.” I bring my fingers together to pinch at the bridge of my nose. “He’s eighteen.”

“He’s a student. It is a violation of authority and trust.” It’s almost like she’s reading from a teleprompter, never missing the opportunity to make me feel like an even bigger piece of shit with each passing admonition. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through, but this has to end.”

“I’ll end it tonight.”

“Good.” She circles the desk and places her hand on my shoulder. “If you don’t, then don’t even think about walking back into this school.”

I can’t even look her in the eyes. I’m too hurt, though I know she’s not out of line. “You’re supposed to be my friend,” I plead with her, but it’s more of a cry, mourning for the loss of one more person in my life.

“You are one of the most important people in my life,” she assures me and massages my shoulder. “I hate seeing you going through this, and I wish there was a way I could help you.”

“Where were you when my marriage was falling apart?”

“I had no idea,” she spits and shakes her head violently as she pulls away from me. “So don’t you dare try to pin this on me, as if I’m some Judas to you.”

She’s angry, and she has every right to be, but I’m trying to stay afloat and I do that by lashing out. “I’m sorry.” I drag my palm across my mouth and sniffle. “I need to finish the exams.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Not while he’s in there. You need to go home, and I’ll take care of the tests.”

I nod and contemplate another scenario in my head, a way this can end any other way than it has to end. I close my eyes and beg to be awoken from this bad dream. From the very beginning, I knew that first night with Kemper would come back and bite me in the ass, but back then I was immune to how ugly it could get. I was living in denial. That’s no longer an option.

I force a smile as I step to the door and lock eyes with her for a split moment, in that short fragment of time, I see the hurt in her eyes. I rip the door open and exit in a hurry, bowing my head in shame as I storm through the office and into the hallway.

I’m left with no options, with no possible route of escape. Right now, there are only four people in this world who know of the affair; myself, Kemper, Ashley, and some nosey piece of shit with a camera.