Page 28 of Rock Bottom Girl
First and last. I didn’t know a lot of things for certain, but this was one of them.
“Oh, um. Not so far,” I said. “Floyd has been really helpful.”
“Good,” she nodded, stirring her tea. “I heard that there was a small issue or two during your preseason practices.” She looked pointedly at the mostly faded bruise I’d covered up with foundation on my cheek.
I swallowed hard. Yeah, I almost gave thirty-two girls heat stroke, then vomited in front of them. Oh, yeah, and I got a black eye breaking up a fight that I didn’t prevent.
“It’s been a steep learning curve,” I said evasively.
Dr. Eccles smiled. “As long as you’re putting the safety of your students first. We can deal with just about anything elsetemporarily.”
I nodded. Not trusting myself to say the right thing.
“So you will?” She was looking at me, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“I will make their safety my priority,” I parroted.Somehow.
“I appreciate that. Along those lines, I believe that everyone deserves a second chance. And I’m assuming there won’t be any repeats of Homecoming 1998, will there?”
Most people weren’t brave enough to bring it up to my face. Most of them just whispered behind my back. Twenty years later, and you’d think the town would have something better to talk about. Damn Culpepper.
“There won’t be any repeats,” I promised.
“Excellent. One more thing. Milton Hostetter.”
I bit my lip. News certainly traveled fast in these walls.
“Yes. I met him this morning.”
“He’s not used to being disciplined. His mother might try to have a discussion with you. She’s quite protective of her sons. Don’t let her scare you off.”
My head was bobbing again. Now probably wasn’t the time to admit that she’d scared me off once already. “Thank you. I won’t,” I said.
There were miles between me and the old Marley. I’d shed most of my people-pleasing tendencies by the time I hit thirty. But I’d be lying if I said the idea of Amie Jo didn’t still terrify me. She’d been a holy terror at eighteen. I doubted that knocking on forty would have mellowed her.
“Great,” Dr. Eccles said with a smile. “I’ll let you get back to your first lunch duty. Good luck.”
I returned to the cafeteria feeling like I’d somehow just dodged a major bullet.
“You must be Marley Cicero.” A man in orange corduroy pants and a plaid shirt approached. His thick-rimmed glasses made his already thin face look longer and leaner. He was definitely one of those cool, hipster nerds.
“Yeah. Hi,” I said, shaking his offered hand.
“I’m Bill Beerman.”
“Beerman,” I repeated.
He flashed a shy smile. “Yeah, it’s a real hit with the students. Computer science, by the way.”
“Ah. Gym.”
“Right. Right. How’s it going so far?”
The cafeteria was full. Mostly recognizable food was either being inhaled by growing teenage athletes or pushed around plates while its students were too busy talking at full volume. There were two cash registers buzzing away as kids purchased lunches, snacks, and slushies. Barely controlled chaos.
“So far so good,” I said.
“You look like a deer in headlights,” Bill offered.
