Page 21 of Line of Resistance

Out of reflex, Eloise plastered on a bright smile. “I’m fine. I think I just have the stares.” She resisted the urge to check the clock again and forced her feet toward the door of the office, smiling at the students as they passed by. “Good morning.”

Seeing their little faces helped calm her down a little. Reminded her she had more than one child to worry about. More than one child she was here to look out for. To take care of.

Her primary reason for moving back to Alaska wasn’t centered around her career, but boy had it ended up being an amazing opportunity. Not only was she making significantly more money here than she was making in Idaho, but the classroom sizes were smaller and the students were less troubled.

With the exception of one. The same one who still hadn’t walked through the doors.

Her smile tightened as the bell rang, signifying the beginning of the school day and encouraging the last few stragglers to pick up their pace, wet boots squeaking across the tile as they rushed to their homerooms.

Eloise waited until the last door was closed and the hall was silent before letting her smile disappear and sink into the frown that felt more fitting for the moment.

What if Bryson’s dad hadn’t been home last night when she dropped him off? What if he’d been as dead in the backyard as she’d hoped and the little boy was stranded, alone and scared all the way out in the middle of nowhere?

Eloise turned, marching into her office and picking up the phone, punching out the number she’d called more times than she could count and waiting for it to ring.

But instead of the expected ring she heard a dull click, followed by an ascending computerized tone and a digital voice letting her know the line she was trying to reach was no longer in service.

Fantastic. Just what she needed.

She slammed the receiver into its cradle and pressed both pointers into the dip of her temples. This week was shaping up to be one of the worst she’d had in a long time. Between all of Nate’s bullshit, the struggles with Bryson, and Matt’s unexpected candy delivery on her porch yesterday, it was getting harder and harder to pretend to be the happy-go-lucky, eternal optimist she presented herself to be.

“Miss Rivers?” Becky strode into her office, dropping three files onto the desk. “I printed out all the forms you need for today’s teacher evaluations and separated them into files.” She glanced up at the clock. “Mrs. Schneider will be doing a class project while you’re in her room this morning. Mr. DuPaul is expecting you right before lunch and will be doing a presentation, and Miss Kirkland will be your last observance of the day.” Her nose scrunched, lifting one side of her upper lip. “And I think they’re dissecting frogs.”

Eloise swallowed hard, not necessarily because her after lunch experience would include amphibian guts, but because this was the part of the job she hated the most. She wasn’t the kind of person who enjoyed making others nervous, and knowing the principal of the school was sitting in the back of your classroom was one of the more nerve-racking moments of being a teacher. It didn’t matter how much she smiled or how nice she was, no one wanted their boss watching them work.

“Great.” She managed a smile in spite of the direction her day was heading. “Thank you so much for getting this together for me.”

She’d all but forgotten this week would include evaluations—probably because she did everything possible to push them out of her mind so she didn’t stress out about it. Of course, had she known how much else she would have to stress about, she might have taken advantage of adding them to the pile. What was a little more at this point?

Eloise grabbed the first file from the stack along with a pen, rocking her neck from side to side before heading out of the office and down the hall to her first sit-in. She quietly crept into the room and took her place at the backmost desk, hoping everyone would continue to act normally in her presence.

They did not.

The students continuously peeked her direction, sitting a little straighter when her gaze met theirs. The room was silent and awkward as Mrs. Schneider walked her second graders through the process of creating a map of Alaska. By all accounts, they should have been having a blast. They had homemade salt clay to add elevation, markers for outlining, and paints to fill in the coastline. But, as so often happened, she was sitting at the edge keeping everyone else from enjoying themselves.

It was why she learned to be the cheerleader. The enthusiastic one. The one encouraging everyone around her to do exactly what made them the happiest.

This went directly against all that and left her completely out of her designated element.

She managed to suffer through her hour with the second graders, face sore from holding her smile for so long as she snuck from the room as quietly as she came in and went back to her office to fill out forms and enter relevant information into the system. While she was there she checked the attendance records and confirmed Bryson had not made it to school, making her mood even more sour as she headed out for her second observation.

This one was less uncomfortable because it was a presentation where everyone was supposed to be quiet anyway, so she listened and took in the same information as the fifth graders. Mr. DuPaul was a skilled presenter and the hour flew past. He was entertaining. Engaging. Interesting and funny. Once the hour was over she went back to her office, ate a quick lunch, returned a handful of emails, and checked with Becky to see if anyone had called Bryson in sick, even though she knew no one had. Not just because their phone was cut off, but because his father wouldn’t have done it anyway.

Fart knocker.

By the time she was finished wolfing down her food, taking a quick break, and checking in with Becky, it was time to head back out for her afternoon autopsy observation.

The process itself didn’t make her squeamish, but the smell of the preservatives and the constant groaning of the kids had her head throbbing by the time it was over and she couldn’t wait to escape to the quiet of her office.

Except her office was occupied by a parent who wanted to discuss their child’s claims of being bullied on the playground. In a fun twist, their kid wasn’t being bullied, but was the actual bully, so things got pretty tense and only exacerbated the steady pulse throbbing behind her eyes.

When the final bell rang and the students filed out, Eloise flopped into her seat and groaned, checking off another day in the week that seemed to be descended from hell.

And it was only Tuesday.

Becky peeked in, giving her a grin. “Hanging in there?”

Eloise stretched her lips into what was hopefully a teasing smile. “Ask me in an hour.” She stood, stretching her neck from side to side in the hope it would alleviate a little of the tightness adding to the pain between her temples.

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