Page 2 of Substitute for Love

“Yeah, yeah, still here,” she responded. “I went into temporary shock when this girl I thought I knew told me she was trying something NEW. Something in front of people she doesn’t know. Something…”

Avery’s feet ached as she rushed across the street and onto campus. Maybe wearing tall wedges on her first day wasn’t a great idea.

“Oh shush, Claire. I try new things all the time. Books, for instance…” she trailed off.

“Seriously? Books don’t count. And even then you stick to the same authors and genres. How many times have you readPride and Prejudice? And you only ever had one boyfriend.”

Avery cringed. “Claire!”

“Okay, sorry,” she said. “Bad example. But this sub job could be really good for you. Get you out of your comfort zone.”

She could finally see the front door of the high school. “Ha! Not a chance. My comfort zone is way too… comfortable.” She joked but inside she really was hoping for a change. “Anyway, gotta go.”

Claire said, “Watch out for hot janitors; they have big muscles,” before Avery giggled and hung up.

She was running out of time. Picking each step as swiftly as possible, she finally made it to the double glass doors of Desert Scorpion and pulled them open. She waited at the front office window while an older lady with silver hair talked on the desk phone.

Avery pulled off her sunglasses and placed them on top of her head to hold her hair back. Beads of sweat dripped down the back of her neck. Was she nervous? No, it was nearly 90 degrees outside, plus she had been sort of running. Why had she returned to live on the surface of the sun again? Her college years and her time in Flagstaff had been a nice break from the heat.

Finally, Office Lady hung up the phone and smiled. “You must be?”

“Avery Williams. It’s my first day as a substitute teacher?” she asked it as a question in her mind and out loud. It was such a new thing, and one she hadn’t considered before moving back to Phoenix, even the word “substitute” felt awkward to say.

“Oh heavens! I thought you were a new student for a minute. I’m so glad you’re here.”

Avery smiled. Maybe being mistaken for a teenager was a compliment. She was a good eight years older than these students.

The woman reached through a slide window and handed Avery a binder with “Substitute Plans” plastered across the front in roughly handwritten Sharpie. The binder itself looked about as haggard she did. Frayed edges. Grubby. Tired.

“Down the hall, last door on the right, dear. Bell rings in about ten minutes.” Pointing the way, the office lady handed her a lanyard with a badge and jangling keys.

Avery finally let herself relax, at least a tiny bit. She had made it into the building before the bell, but now she had toworry about actually teaching. Over the past several years, she had experienced plenty of jobs. But nothing like teaching.

The school smelled like a mixture of Axe body spray and school supplies. Students milled about the hallways, groups of high school girls giggled together, a bunch of boys high-fived, and a few couples chatted with puppy eyes. Memories flashed in her mind of passing Marshall in the hallways of high school. Rerouting her day for a chance meeting with him.No, Avery. Focus.

She approached the classroom door the office lady had indicated. Deep breaths. This was really happening. She was about to be a teacher, er, a pretend teacher. She was a fraud. Sure, Avery met the qualifications for being a substitute teacher—college degree, passed a background check, a pulse—but other than that, she knew nothing about teaching.

Fumbling with the keys, she opened the door and turned on the lights. Book covers and literature quotes she recognized peppered the walls. Avery smiled. This was her kind of classroom. She headed toward the teacher’s desk and plopped down the binder.

A few students started trickling in. “We have a sub? We have a sub?” Their voices echoed.

“Good… good morning,” she choked out.

They probably thought this would be the world’s easiest day in language and literature. For them, it probably would be. But not for her. Avery imagined chewed gum and paper airplanes flying through the air, images from an old movie or something. She had hoped the school would have provided some training on classroom management, but they were so short staffed they simply threw her to the wolves.

Last night at dinner, Mom had told her, “Don’t worry so much. The school only wants you to keep them from burning the school to the ground until their regular teacher returns.” Momwould know. She had been a substitute teacher for a little while. But that was a long time ago.

Avery shook her head at the thought of students running amok. Teaching had never been on her radar, but she didn’t have much choice. Substitute teaching was instant and there was always something open, especially at these big Phoenix schools. So for now, this would pay her bills and hopefully help with Mom’s medical bills.

She took deep breaths to calm herself. It sorta worked. She went to sit, almost missing the chair, but thankfully she caught herself on the teacher’s desk. More students had filed in. They were too busy chatting to notice her clumsy moment.

Duh, Avery. Sheesh. Hold it together.She wasn't prepared for the onslaught of thoughts about Marshall being at a school would cause. Too many thoughts, too much anger, too much regret.

If only she was already experienced at being a substitute and had a routine down. Then she’d feel better. If only there was a book about a lonely substitute teacher, trying to navigate her first day of class, but there wasn’t. She had looked.

She was tired of feeling anxious all the time, and it seemed like things were always going haywire no matter how hard she tried. Claire had told her many times, “Focus only on what you can control in the moment.” She had been talking about lifting weights, but still it was good advice on where to place your focus.

Yes, okay. She could do that. Baby steps. Avery took a deep breath.

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