Page 35 of Bad Reputation

“Our benevolent overlords would never act contrary to the good of the people.”

“That bad?”

“I’ve never seen a group of people in charge of something who seem to hate it as much as those bozos hate public education. Honestly, you got out just in time. Do you think I could set up a private choir?” As it was, Savannah taught voice lessons in her “free” time, but that income didn’t come close to covering her teaching income. Side hustles were a crock.

“You could be like Harold Hill! You could travel around setting up choirs and selling uniforms and pitch pipes and seducing librarians.”

“If the librarians are cute, I’m in.” A pause. “I miss you. I mean, I’m deeply jealous you’re hanging out in Scotland with Tasha freaking Russell and Cole ‘The Abs’ James. But I also miss you.”

Maggie had a flash from the before times—before COVID, before everyone decided teachers were the enemy—to a Friday happy hour at Chili’s with Savannah and the other cool teachers from their school. She missed her best friend so much. She missed her old job more than she would let herself admit. But the ache in her chest was also forthat, for the sense of being a part of something larger than herself. The camaraderie, the jokes, the confidence that they were in a job where they made a difference and improved lives.

She had none of those things here. Maybe shecouldhave them, someday, but she still felt so insecure.

She was playing a role, and even several months in, she still felt badly miscast. Some part of Maggie’s heart was still pinwheeling madly postfiring, desperate to know which way was up and which was down and which direction she ought to be going.

Ever since college, Maggie hadknown. The very nature of teaching was predictability. If it was spring, she’d be teaching the film unit in her intermediate drama class, and doing scenes with her beginning students, and directing a musical. Her calendar had been as certain as the daffodils popping up when the snow melted.

Maggie had had moments in the last few months where she felt as if she were getting that conviction back, but then along had come Tasha to make her feel dizzy all over again.

“I miss you too.” After a poignant beat, Maggie tried to sound cheerful as she added, “I’ll be back in three months!”

“Not soon enough. This pothos is looking sad.”

“You should’ve picked pretty much any other plant: pothos is impossible to kill. Just check the soil, and—”

“Maggie, I was kidding.”

“Right, right. I knew that. I was kidding too.” She hadn’t been. “But I do have to go. It’s a night shoot ... and that’s the only detail you get.”

“Ooooh, that’s enough for me to build an entire dream scenario. I will take it. Talk soon, Niven!”

Maggie took a quick nap, and before leaving for the bus that was going to take the crew up to the location, she dashed off a quick email to Bernard.

Going into the first day of shooting, I feel as prepared as it’s possible to feel when I don’t really know what I’m doing. As long as everything goes according to plan, I feel confident. But I have absolutely no ability to improvise, and that’s what worries me the most. With teaching, it took years before I trusted my ability to respond to whatever might happen in the classroom. I wish Zoya were directing this episode as we have the best working relationship, but I’m glad that I’m starting with Rhiannon as Tasha still isn’t speaking to me.

They were almost at the last moment for the star to change her mind about that. It felt like a distant mountain that Maggie wanted to climb, one that kept poking through the clouds and taunting her.

Every time Bernard asked about it and Maggie had to repeat that no, nothing had changed, Maggie hadn’t made any progress, she wanted to cry. She’d almost begged Bernard to get on a plane to see if he could make any headway. Maggie didn’t have any ego here—okay, she had a small and reasonable amount of ego—but at this point, her worries weren’t just about herself but also about Tasha.

Maggie wanted to make sure that Tasha was going to be okay.

She blew out a long breath, watching the hair around her face stir. She couldn’t control Tasha’s reaction. She could only keep making herself available and do a good job with Rhiannon and Cole.

In the last year, so much had been outside Maggie’s control. She’d spent so much time literally making herself sick over people’s feelings—which she couldn’t dictate—and other people’s choices—which weren’t hers to make. The helplessness had almost destroyed her, until she’d realized that if she could embrace it, then she had more energy for the stuff she could control. Seeing her limits, affirming them, itincreasedher power.

I’m still feeling stymied about that,she wrote,but that’s a problem for another day.

And quite frankly, it was a problem Tasha had to solve on her own. All Maggie could do was keep her hand outstretched and hope Tasha would eventually grasp it.

She hit send on the email to Bernard, packed her bag, double-checked its contents, and headed out—because those were the things she could do.

Tonight, they had to be enough.

Chapter 9

EXT.WAVERLEYSET—NIGHT

Kevin Combs, who was directing this episode, leaned out from behind the monitor and asked, “You ready?”

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