“In all the years I’ve been running this school and the hundreds of tests that have come across my desk…” I tapped the paper. “I’ve only seen test scores this high one time.”
My scores. But I kept that to myself.
She hadn’t cheated. I’d sat behind her the entire time, watching her fly through the exercises.
“Academic aptitude of your caliber doesn’t go unnoticed.” I pressed my fingertips together in a steeple against my mouth, thinking. “Your high school grades are average. You weren’t in any advanced classes. Have you not been applying yourself in school? Or has something else been holding you back?”
“I’m not smart, if that’s what you’re asking.” She strolled alongside the desk, letting her hand trail the surface’s edge. “I remember things. If I hear it or read it, I can recall it later. It’s just memorization. Nothing special.”
Her intelligence went way beyond memorization, and whoever had told her otherwise should have their tongue ripped out.
“The exam measured a range of cognitive abilities.” I studied her over the steeple of my hands. “That includes mathematical skills, spatial perception, and language. Your scores in science and logic are especially impressive, which has more to do with problem-solving and less to do with memory.”
“Whatever. So are you going to put me in advanced classes or something?”
My initial concerns had been that she wouldn’t keep up in those classes. Now that I knew she was ahead of our curriculum and every student here, I had to adjust for that. “I teach Advanced Placement Calculus after lunch, followed by Econometrics and Statistics. You’ll take those classes and spend the mornings with me in individualized instruction and religious training.”
She seemed to perk up at that, and I could guess the reason. She thought I was her ticket out of here.
I spread out my elbows on the desk, leaning forward. “Spending every day with me does not open opportunities to sabotage your graduation from Sion. Furthermore, any feelings you may develop for me—be it contempt or desire—will be squashed. Our relationship will remain professional, and any efforts to defile that will be punished.”
“Will my clothes be removed for these punishments?” She fluttered her eyelashes, straight-faced.
“Depends on your on-going issue with urinary incontinence.”
“I do not have incontinence.” She made a scoffing sound. “I hadn’t gone to the bathroom since before church.”
“Find a solution for that, Miss Constantine. You’re far too old to be reminded to use the toilet.”
“That’s not…ugh!” She paced away, clawing her nails along her scalp and pulling at her hair.
I rubbed a hand across my mouth, wiping away my amusement. She was way too easy to rile, and I rather enjoyed it.
Now that I thought about it, I’d never been this eager to converse with a student. Her rapid-fire quips and witty rejoinders kept me sharp and thinking on my toes. Given her test scores, it was no wonder. It would undoubtedly be a long year of stimulating conversation and verbal sparring.
She pivoted back toward my desk, her gaze drawing a path from my lips to my collar before darting to my eyes. “How long have you been a priest?”
“I was ordained four years ago.”
“So you haven’t had sex in four years?”
“Nine. I entered seminary and discernment nine years ago.”
“Nine years without sex?” Her eyebrows crawled to her hairline. “In all that time, you haven’t slipped up even once? Haven’t given in to the baser needs of human nature?”
“Not once.”
This line of questioning was nothing new. It’d been asked by hundreds of curious students and parents before her. So when she voiced the next question, I was ready for it.
“Why did you become a priest? And don’t give me a canned response. I already know you were a self-made billionaire and New York’s most eligible bachelor.”
All common knowledge. She only needed to put my name in an internet browser to learn the highlights of my illustrious career. I had no secrets, save one, and that lay buried beyond anyone’s reach.
“Before I chose this path, I was a wealthy businessman. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic school, and endowed this boarding school with a lot of money because I have a personal connection here.”
“What personal connection?”
“Father Crisanto has been my best friend since childhood.”
“So he suckered you into a life of celibacy?”
“Do I look suckered, Miss Constantine?”
“Good point.” She pursed her lips. “But you have had sex, right? You’re not a virgin?”
“I’m not a virgin. When I reached my thirties, I made a conscious decision to do more with my life, to be more.”
“And you thought, Hey, why don’t I become a penniless, sexless, heartless teacher?”
“I donated my wealth and my life to this school because I wanted to become a shepherd.”
“And we’re your sheep.” She slowly inhaled through her nose and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
The answers I gave were honest, with one crucial omission. The secret I would take to my grave.