Page 84 of Hate You, Maybe
Sayla draws in a long breath, and I can practically hear the gears cranking in her head. She’s got to be thinking that if Ileft Stony Peak, the performing arts department would get the grant by default. I’m not even sure that’s how it would work. Still. She must be coming out of her skin.
“Who would you get to replace me midyear at Stony Peak?” I ask, not because I’m considering the switch. I’m just more blown away by the fact that Dewey thinks it’s an option. And I need her to see it’s not.
“We thought we could promote your girls’ volleyball coach. Brynn Granger.”
“Brynn’s great,” I say. “But her maternity leave starts in November, and she’s not planning to come back for at least a year.”
“Well, then, we’d have to post the position,” she says. “Surely there are any number of people vying to be the next Dexter Michaels.”
“Again, I’m flattered, but?—”
“Don’t answer me now,” she interrupts. “I know you’ve been away at the retreat Larry Wilford planned, and you’ve got the accreditation coming up. I’ll be seeing you then anyway. In the meantime, keep the idea simmering in the background.”
“I don’t?—”
“Simmer, Dexter. Simmer.”
“All right, Dr. Dewey. Thank you.”
“No, thank YOU. Because I’m confident in the end, you’ll do the right thing.”
“That’s always my?—”
“Wonderful. Talk soon.”
Superintendent Dewey ends the call.
I hazard a glance at Sayla, whose eyes are bright with fresh hope. “Dex. This is incredible!” She’s practically hopping in her seat. Meanwhile, my guts dip and twist like an amusement park rollercoaster.
“Yeah. I guess it would be.” Except for the part where I’dnever leave Stony Peak for Harvest High. But I don’t want to break her heart, either.
I go quiet, considering my options, but Sayla doesn’t notice. She’s busy gushing about what a great school Harvest High is. And how we’d be working just ten minutes away from each other, but not actual coworkers anymore. Plus, I’d have all the funding I needed, and no gym renovation to worry about.
Win-win-win.
Her three favorite words.
“We still have to focus on the SACSS for the next few weeks,” she concludes. “But after that, the future could be wide open for both of us.”
“Focus on the SACSS,” I echo. “Right.”
The thought of crushing Sayla’s dreams—now that she thinks they’re an easy reality—is absolutely killing me. So in the end, I know there’s only one choice I can make.
Or only one choice I’mwillingto make.
I may not get the results I want, but in the words of Michael Scott, stealing from the great Wayne Gretzky, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.
So I’ll have to trust my aim.
And either way, Sayla won’t see it coming.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Sayla
“You did what?” Loren’s squeal boomerangs off the ceiling of the theater.
“Believe me,” I say. “I’m as surprised as you are.”
