Page 21 of The Build Up

At the sound of footsteps, I turn.

The principal stands before us.

She wears a simple, breezy emerald green linen shift, accessorized with bold red resin earrings and a blue floral silk scarf. Soft salt-and-pepper curls are cropped into a neat bob.

She’s probably in her late forties, but it’s hard to tell. Somehow, she manages to give off an aura that’s simultaneously welcoming, down-to-earth, and formidably competent.

If she’s surprised by Tarak’s presence, she certainly doesn’t show it.

“I’m Delia. Come on in.” She turns, gesturing toward a glass-walled office.

We rise and follow her inside, Tarak stalking quietly behind me.

“Please, take a seat.” Delia gestures toward a pair of minimalistic swivel chairs.

Tarak waits until I’m comfortably seated, then takes the other chair. Leaning back, I breathe a small sigh of relief as the pressure is lifted from my aching feet.

“Welcome, Abbey. Thank you for booking an appointment to meet with me. I have to admit, I must admit, I didn’t expect there to be two of you, but that isn’t a problem.” She turns to Tarak, staring at him with great intensity. “I know who you are,” she says quietly.

“Then you’ll know that our requirements will not be ordinary,” Tarak replies, cutting to the chase in typical Tarak fashion.

“To save you both the trouble, I’ll say this now: no matter what you offer me, I’m not leaving this school. I’m sorry.”

“Then our business here is concluded,” Tarak says coolly, rising to his feet.

“Hold on a moment.” I shoot Tarak an annoyed glare before turning to the principal. “I never said anything about you leaving your current position. Actually, I haven’t even had a chance to sayanything.”

The principal nods. “I’m all ears.”

Tarak frowns, refusing to sit down again. Slowly, he walks to the back of the room and leans against the wall, sending a clear signal that he’s leaving the conversation to me.

“I’ve done my research. I know your experience. I know your outcomes… and I know how important this school is to you. I know that you work with the most challenging students. Those who don’t fit into the traditional system, those who have failed time and time again, kids who arethisclose to having their MQ score drop below the threshold. I also know that you were one of the first educators to take a serious interest in Kordolian language and culture.”

“Itisthe future,” Delia says dryly, “whether we like it or not.”

“It’s a better future than the one that was laid out before,” I retort. “That’s why I wanted to speak with you.” I rest my hand on my belly, feeling the reassuring movements of the life growing inside me. “We have a unique situation. An entire generation of Kordolian-humans that’s going to be tasked with great responsibility.”And power.I leave the obvious unsaid because it makes most people uncomfortable. “I need them to learn our history and our ways—and remain grounded.”

“That’s a significant responsibility. I’m not in a position to offer my professional services as a teacher.”

“I’m not asking for all of your time. I just need to pick your brains. I want to start a school. Human-led, human-conceived. Ineedyour expertise. Your connections. Your help with hand-picking the staff. Aconsultancyrole, if you like. Whatever it costs, we can make it happen.”

“I see.” Delia twines her fingers together, a shrewd look in her dark eyes. “And what if my price isn’t monetary?”

“Name it.”

“Okay. Two things.”

“I’m listening.” With Tarak’s silent, indomitable presence behind me, I’m filled with confidence. I feel unshakeable. I can give this woman what she asks for or walk away unscathed. If I can’t get her to agree to what I want, then I’m sure we’ll find an alternative.

“Firstly, there are a number of students at this school that don’t engage well with authority figures and have little respect for rules or boundaries. I believe they might react differently to someone from outside the system.”

“Someone? You mean, one of mypeople.”

Delia’s eyebrows rise slightly as I firmly declare my allegiance. It’s true, my loyalties have shifted. I don’t consider myself a Federation Citizen anymore. I’m part of a tribe now—Tarak’s and mine.

They’remypeople.

“Someone as hard-as-nails, who can provide a different perspective. Who will treat them fairly, without bias. I would like to see if our groups can collaborate on a cultural exposure project.”

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