Page 2 of Writing On The Wall

“You offering yourself as tribute?” He arches a brow with a smile.

The idea simmers in my mind as I add hot water and stir. It wouldn’t cost me anything to go along with the ruse, and if it helps Toby, I’m happy to oblige. Besides, there’s no risk of feelings getting in the way, since Toby and I see each other as siblings. No fake dating turning into love here—no tropes in my world. The blind dates I went on last year were all dull enough to put me off dating for the foreseeable future. My life is already a mess, and adding romance to the mix would only make things worse.

He silently shakes his head while he sips his coffee. I know he’s only half-serious about taking me up on my offer, but I’d never pass up an opportunity to help a good friend.

“I’d do it, you know.”

“Pretend to be my girlfriend?”

“If it helps you, yeah.” I shrug, adding honey and milk to my oatmeal then lifting the mug. I blow into it while Toby washes his coffee cup in the sink. He finishes, leaning against the counter while he rubs his chin. “That might actually work.”

I’m about to interject more of my bright ideas when the door swings open.

C.J. Crowley—Aster Elementary’s principal—struts in, her hair meticulously styled and her classic stiletto heels and fifties pencil dress on point. She’s tall with a brow that raises at the perfect arch for making kids spill their secrets. She’s fiercely protective of her clan, and I’m desperately trying to solidify my place in it. I feel like I’m almost there.

“Staff meeting in five,” she informs in her authoritative voice while laying a tray of muffins down.

“Can we chat about it this afternoon?”Toby whispers.

“You got it, Bee.” I wink. “Hey, C.J. Can I carry those for you?” I slide the tray into my arms while she hurriedly brews a cup of coffee.

“Oh, thank you, Darlin’. You can bring them next door. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes ma’am.”

We take our usual seats, and I’m probably the only one who wouldn’t stand out if the students filed in and sat down. Heels do nothing for one’s height when sitting.

C.J. click-clacks into the room as the rest of the staff greet one other and settle into the remaining chairs.

“Happy Monday, team! I’ll get straight to it. Just a few things to take note of. I know it’s only February, but spring is upon us and you know how the spring winds make these kids crazy, so be warned. Have your ‘poop just hit the fan’ strategies and contingencies in place.”

C.J. preps us every year like we’re gearing down for some kind of alien invasion. She’s convinced the spring winds change the frequency in the air, making all the kids more wild than usual. I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but Ihavenoticed a correlation and it helps to have a plan in place when the students decide to impersonate everything besides humans for the day.

“And lastly, you’ll notice a few gentlemen at the playground after school this week,” C.J. says.

“We renting out the swings, now?” Toby chimes in, eliciting a chuckle from the staff.

“As much as I’d like to see that show, Toby, they’ll be here to install the shade covering over the play structure. I have no other announcements, so that concludes this morning’s proceedings.”

We shuffle out and disperse to different classrooms, but Toby nudges my arm before we part. “I’ll catch you before you leave this afternoon?”

“Sure thing, Bae.”

His chin scrunches while his lips puff out. “I can’t decide if that’s better or worse thanBee.”

“You’ve leveled up. It’s better.”

He pivots after an eye roll.

When I reach my office, I check my phone one more time before stuffing it in my desk drawer. Still no word from Ross. But I can’t keep covering for him like this. For so long, I’ve hoped that showering him with unconditional love and understanding would encourage him to join me on the right path—the path of hard work and an honest income, that is. But I’m not so sure my approach has been working.

I inhale and release a slow breath, and it feels like trying to breathe with an X-ray vest draped over my chest. All I can do is take things one day at a time.

The first thing I do each morning is ensure the projector is working. I’m in big trouble if that device fails. Then I prepare anything that I could possibly need to write on the whiteboard by typing it on my computer instead. For information that needs to stay up all week, I enlist students with neat handwriting to help transcribe it onto the board. Sometimes we turn it into a game called “Catch Miss Marsh’s Spelling Mistake,” which the students enjoy. This not only instills a sense of responsibility in the kids, but also saves me a lot of stress.

Ten minutes later, my students are lining up in the hall, and the craziness is about to begin. I give my hair bow a tug, tightening it before pasting on a giant smile. By the time I greet the first student with a fist bump, I’m already feeling my anxiety melt away. Most people would find this situation stress inducing, but being with kids who are open to learning and free to make mistakes is my happy place. There’s no pressure here. We’re equals, learning together.

Second graders and senior citizens are my favorite agegroup to be around. Things tend to even out in some ways on both ends of that age range. These thoughts bring with them an uninvited reminder of a dream to follow that passion and pursue furthering my education. These thoughts of studying more periodically flicker in my peripheral, blinking like a tiny flashing light I keep trying to ignore.

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