Chapter 3: Fined and Defiant

I barely paid attention. The upside of having a good relationship with my students was that they often gave me custom notebooks, and I’d reimburse them a little for their trouble. Besides office supplies, I couldn’t think of any other way I might be wasting money.

But then Hanley locked eyes with me, and I realized too late that I was in his crosshairs.

"Mr. Foster, do you know how much electricity you’ve wasted for the school?"

As soon as he said it, all the teachers who’d been nervously watching the floor now turned to stare at me.

I felt a pang of confusion and more than a little injustice. I leaned forward, pulling the microphone closer. "Principal Hanley, I was just grading assignments late."

Hanley’s gaze was icy.

"Why can the other teachers finish their work during the day, but you’re here late every night? Doesn’t that show you can’t manage your workload?"

"And you’re always working overtime, but your class never comes out on top. Why is that?"

I nearly laughed out loud. Even if he was new, he must have heard the stories about my class by now.

I tried to speak again, but suddenly my mic went dead. Hanley had turned it off without a word.

He didn’t stop, though. His voice kept coming, loud and clear, over the speakers.

"This is a private school. Every penny matters! Today it’s a few extra kilowatts, tomorrow it’s a broken printer. Wasteful! The rest of you need to learn from Mr. Foster’s example."

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I snatched the mic from the teacher next to me, earning a loud screech of feedback. Hanley winced, covering his ears, but I pressed on.

I stood up, hands clenched, and said coldly, "Principal Hanley, do you even know what my class is like? Do you have any idea how much work I have to juggle every day? We’re talking about a few dollars of electricity—there’s no need to turn me into a scapegoat. I’ll pay for the overtime electricity myself, if that’s what it takes."

Hanley’s face twisted with anger. He slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet.

"Mr. Foster, do you know who you’re talking to?"

I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, the principal. But does being principal mean you get to act like a jerk?"

Hanley’s face turned red. He jabbed a finger at me, his voice shaking with fury.

"Fine, you’re fired!"

I wasn’t surprised. If he was coming after me over a couple of lightbulbs, it was clear he’d been looking for an excuse. But if he was going to fire me, I wanted to hear a real reason.

Hanley whipped out a pre-written contract from his folder.

"Employment contract, staff obligation Section 30: No causing losses to the school, or the school has the right to dismiss without pay. Mr. Foster, I’m notifying you now—not only are you fired, but you’re not getting this month’s paycheck or your bonus!"