Bound to Her - Deborah Pin (books for 9th graders .TXT) 📗

you call me

something cool like Kat?”

“Kat’s taken by the chick in The Hunger Games. I’m afraid you’re just stuck with Trink. I don’t make the rules, dear. What about Trinkster?”

Katrina was already starting to smile again. Bless Imogen’s heart for

bringing a laugh to her life when she needed it most. “Anyway…”

“Yes, anyway. What did you do this time?”

“Oh you know…I was rude to a parent who consequently deserved

my rudeness and then he caught me staring at his butt. The usual.”

“Ah. So the parent had a nice butt, I take it? Or is this your new way

of sizing up the parents at parent-teacher conferences? So whose parent

are we talking about?”

“Seth Adler.”

“Ah… Yes. I don’t know the man but I’ve heard mention of his

hotness factor and I’ve seen him from afar. Nice ass is right!”

Katrina groaned as she remembered his expressionless face watching

her while her eyes were glued like tractor beams to his backside. “It was

awful. And I might have left my transmission in the parking lot too. Who

knows?” She threw her hand up as her less-than-perfect alignment

pulled her toward the center lane. Grabbing the wheel again, she righted

her path.

“You need a drink.”

“I hear that, sista! But sadly I still have five more essays to grade tonight before I can call it a day. Grading and drinking do not mix.

Listen, I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

They disconnected quickly as Katrina pulled into her driveway. It was

just a small home but she loved it. Her neighborhood in Seattle was quiet

and modest and while not anywhere near the amazing views on the

Sound or Lake Washington, it was all hers—thanks in large part to the inheritance her father left her years ago after passing away from lung cancer. Imogen called it a shack but in fact it was a quaint older bungalow-style home. Imogen was allowed to call it a shack because

Imogen had money—lots of money—and no one had to die for her to get it.

While Katrina struggled to eke out a living on the modest income

afforded a teacher, Imogen taught simply for the love of it and nothing

more—not that Katrina didn’t love it.

Oddly enough, Imogen was the most down-to-earth, quirky and fun

character Katrina had ever met. Her money didn’t spoil who she was in

any way and she was just as content schlepping her way through

Walmart by Katrina’s side as she was dragging Katrina through stores Katrina could never in a million years afford.

When she entered, Kitty met her at the door. She was an old cat—at

least twenty years at this point. She’d wandered up to her dad’s house as

a stray when Katrina was still in elementary school and she’d just stuck.

The poor old bat couldn’t hear a thing and when she meowed she more

often than not made no sound. She had no idea, of course. She was simply deaf and had no clue her meow box wasn’t working anymore.

She staggered like a drunken old soldier too. She was as neurologically

messed up as she was deaf but she was a ravenous animal when it came

to food and so Katrina couldn’t bear to put her down yet. Kitty was just

far too content in her deaf, neurologically fucked-up, half-dead, older-than-dirt sort of way.

The light on her answering machine that was just as old as her cat was

blinking.

“Trink, I think you should ask out the hot-butt parent. I’m assuming

he’s single, otherwise you would have acted normal. You only really seem to act like a maniac when a man’s actually available. Anywho, love

ya. Margaritas at Cabos tomorrow night. Be there or be square, love!”

Beep.

Katrina crawled into bed with a glass of wine and a stack of essays.

She wasn’t going to let herself take even one sip until she was on the last

essay. That would be her reward…

* * * * *

When Katrina woke the next morning, there was a full glass of red wine on her nightstand and three essays left to grade. Damn. Should have seen that one coming.

The day was long. It was Friday. Fridays were always long and as she sat at her desk during free writing time, she tried to grade the rest of the essays. “Ms. Page?” The voice was quiet and when she looked up Seth Adler was standing in front of her. She was suddenly hit with guilt as she took in his sweet face. He had his father’s eyes and for whatever reason, she felt as though every rude word she’d said to his father was spoken in front of him. It wasn’t of course and he’d deserved it for sure.

Beyond that, his father had a steely hard demeanor that she’d failed to crack in any way whatsoever, so her guilt didn’t make any sense but it was there nonetheless.

“Hey, Seth. What’s up?”

“My dad said I needed to talk to you about joining a study group for

reading during study hall?”

“Yeah. I’d love to have you in the group. I think it’ll really help you

with your studies but I hope I didn’t cause you any trouble with your father. I certainly didn’t intend to. I just really think it would be a great group for you.”

“Oh no. I’m not in trouble. He was glad you asked me to join. He just

wanted me to make sure I was there when I was supposed to be.” Huh?

And here she’d assumed Mr. Adler would put little stock in her group.

“Great. Third period, this room. We work on comprehension exercises

for the most part but we work in a group. So we may read individually

for a while but then we discuss and quiz each other over the material. It’s

more fun than it sounds, and I always have snacks to help you ruin your

appetite for lunch.” She smiled at Seth as his eyebrows shot up.

Her reading group was actually one of the highlights of her day. It was a small group and it allowed them to work as a group and actually

have some fun with it at the same time. It didn’t mean she wasn’t ready

to be done with this Friday. She was more than ready for margaritas at

Cabos with Imogen.

The day inched along painfully slowly and when her cell rang just as

she was waving to the last of her students on the way out her classroom

door, she snatched it up quickly.

“Cabos. Now.” Then Imogen hung up on her. Hello weekend

margaritas.

Chapter Two

 

“And how was the study group yesterday?” Forcing Seth to

communicate with him was getting more difficult by the grade level. But

Dillon was intent on spending some time with him, at least on this weekend. He wasn’t on the clock until Sunday night and so come

Saturday night, Dillon was dragging his butt to the movies whether Seth

wanted to go or not.

“Ms. Page’s cool. The group’s fun. Not much more to say, Dad.” He

had that annoyed tone to his voice as though there was no logical reason

his father should be so interested in his life. But he was trapped beside him in the car with little means of escape.

“Cool, huh? I wouldn’t have pegged her as cool during conferences a

couple nights ago.” There was a whole lot more he could say about his

impression of the woman than that but he was guessing it’d be

inappropriate to speak so poorly of his son’s English teacher in front of

him. She’d rattled him. She was pissed and it left him defensive. But she

was cute as hell too and that left his mind wandering to places it had no

business going with her.

She was too young for him, he was guessing. Mid-to-late twenties to

his mid-thirties and with an attitude like hers he’d be a glutton for punishment. But she sure as hell didn’t have an attitude in his fantasies

of her.

She was of average height, if not on the shorter side and perfectly curvy. Her hair was light-brown and long and even when she was pissed

off she was pretty. Her eyes were large and blue and she had lashes that

went on for miles, even if her fairly short stature didn’t give her legs that did the same.

He’d heard Seth mention her a time or two but it was a bit shocking

to walk in on such a harsh disposition—not that he didn’t deserve it. He

had kept her waiting for forty-five minutes, after all. He’d been more than ready to explain the situation but she’d given him little chance, and

once her mouth got in the way he’d decided he didn’t much care if she

knew the why behind his tardiness. Hot for teacher or not, she was a bitch.

The Hollywood blockbuster they saw was shoulder-to-shoulder

seating and as Seth put it, “it sucked ass, Dad.” He was sure he should

discipline him for his bad language but he was so busy agreeing with him and laughing at the same time, he forgot that part of parenting.

Raising Seth alone had been something of a terrifying prospect at first.

He was fortunate enough to have a sister two doors down who had a son

only a year older than Seth. The boys had been close growing up and it

was only thanks to his sister Molly that he’d managed to work and parent. He couldn’t conceive of being without her. The boys were back and forth between their houses nearly every day and the moment he pulled into the drive, Seth headed off to Molly’s to see if Jake was around.

Dillon found them awhile later parked in front of Molly’s TV playing

video games. “Hey, Uncle Dillon. Mom’s out back on the patio.”

He brought a couple beers for him and Molly and joined her on the patio where she had the outdoor chimney lit and warming the small paving stone area. Their yards backed up to a hilly wooded area. The front of their homes both had great views of Puget Sound, though from

many miles away and they were lucky enough to have private backyards

that met the hills behind them.

Molly had made it clear she bought the home for completely personal

reasons that had nothing to do with her little brother being a single parent with a baby but he knew she was full of shit. He was terribly lucky she was so full of shit. She was long-divorced from Jake’s father and Molly liked to think of them as something of a team when it came to

parenting.

“What’s up with Seth’s reading group? He mentioned it to Jake last night at dinner.”

“Struggling with reading comprehension. The group’s supposed to

help, I guess.”

“You guess? What’d his teacher say about his reading

comprehension?”

“I don’t know. It was bad? It was kind of a strained meeting.”

“Did you say strange?”

“That too. His English teacher is a pill. I was late to the conference and she wasn’t very happy about it.”

“Uh…ya think? Who’s the teacher?”

“Ms. Page.”

“Aha. Jake had her last year. She’s actually awesome, so that tells me

you’re likely the pill and you deserved pill attitude for being the pill.”

“Well thanks for the support, Sis.”

“Just sayin’. She kinda rocks as a teacher. How late were you

exactly?”

“Forty-five minutes.” He said it quietly as he turned his head from Molly.

“What? You’re definitely the pill. Forty-five minutes? What the hell did you expect?”

“I said I was sorry.”

She nearly spit out a mouthful of beer. “Yeah right. I know your apologies and they’re never quite what they should be. For instance, if you sneer while apologizing, it cancels the apology out. If you glare, same thing. If you apologize and then get upset with the other person, again, apology canceled.”

He was chuckling by the time she was done speaking. Yeah, he might

not have been quite as sincere as he should have been but damn, she’d made it hard on him.

“I think you should apologize to her.”

“Should I now?” He was being sarcastic. There was no way in hell.

“She’s cute. Apology parlayed into a date perhaps? You never know.”

“No thanks. She was rude to me.” He gave her his best pouty face, which she scoffed at. She knew better.

“You’re the picture of irritating aloofness. I highly doubt the sweet little Ms. Page sent you running for the hills.”

Maybe not the hills but she had made a mark. He’d not quite gotten

her out of his mind yet.