Page 63 of Hate You, Maybe
“We can?” Sayla says under her breath.
“There’s more,” Fern says. She fixes her smile on us. “The best collaborations aren’t just two people bringing their separate skills to the table, but also sharing those skills. Educating and learning from each other.”
“That’s a teacher pun,” Bob pipes up, practically bouncing, he’s so excited.
“So we came up with something to help you really dig into appreciating the other person’s role,” Hildy says.
“We think you need to walk around in a different pair of shoes.” Bob splays his hands. “So consider this our little nudge.”
Uh-oh.
“When you go back to Stony Peak,” Hildy says, “you two are going to switch roles until the accreditation visit.”
Sayla gawks at her. “Switch roles?”
“You’ll be the athletic director,” Hildy says, “and Dexter will take over performing arts. And whatever plan you cook up, you’ll have to implement from the other person’s position.”
I let out a small scoff. “Sorry, but there’s no way that will work.”
“It will,” Bob insists. “You’ll just have to support each other.”
“Which is kind of the whole point,” Hildy adds.
“Isn’t this idea a little gimmicky?” Sayla asks. “We’re talking about real life here, not a remake ofFreaky Friday.”
“The switch is only temporary,” Hildy assures us. “And you’ll be right there to help your counterpart the whole time. We think this is the best chance you’ll have to truly cooperate.”
“So try to have some fun with it,” Bob chimes in. “The school is counting on you.”
“I see what you’re trying to do here,” I say, “and I appreciate the thought. But you forgot one big problem: Larry Wilford will never agree to the switch.”
Hildy’s eyes light up. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“We called him this morning.” Bob grins. “And he already said yes.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sayla
“Well, Kroft.” Dex smirks. “At this rate, I’m worried we’re gonna run out of clipboards.”
We’re on the porch, sitting across from each other in Adirondack chairs that feel more like punishment than decor. I’ve already scrawled out three lists of departmental tasks we’ll have to address as soon as we return to school, but so far, we’ve got no solid plan for some big presentation to the accreditation committee.
I might be freaking out a little.
Or a lot.
“I understand why they want us to trade places,” I say. “Kind of. I’m just not sure how we’re supposed to do thatandget the whole school to impress the SACSS.”
Dex guffaws. “And don’t forget we need to make it fun.”
“Fun on demand is impossible.”
“We’ll think of something,” he says. “Hopefully before Ihave to dig you out from under a pile of spreadsheets, to-do lists, and blueprints.”
“I mean, I can put on workout clothes and wear a whistle,” I say, “but I’ve got no idea how to coach a football team. And you can put on a costume and carry around a script, but you’ve never directed a play.”
“Facts.”
