Page 72 of Give In To Love
“Hey, Jimmy. Do you have any videos I can show to Mrs. Robertson’s afternoon drama classes?” I looked up from my computer at the circulation desk, trying to refocus on the present after being completely lost in my thoughts. Our assistant principal, Mr. Dennison, was standing in front of me, brows raised in question. I rose and walked toward the back, where we kept a selection of videos for teachers to check out. “I thought Mrs. Robertson had a sub lined up for while she’s on maternity leave?” I pulled three videos I knew Annette had shown in the past and handed them to Mr. Dennison.
“Thanks. She did have one lined up. Mr. Salas was coming out of retirement to be her sub. Unfortunately, he fell off a ladder cleaning his gutters yesterday and is no longer available.”
“Oh no! Is he okay?” Mr. Salas had been the drama teacher when I was in school. I never had him, but he’d always seemed like a nice guy.
“He will be. But he broke his leg in two places and needs surgery. I’ll catch you later. Thanks for these.” He was out the door and headed down the hall before I could respond.
Linda, my library aide, came bustling in a few minutes later. She dropped her kids off at the elementary school every day before reporting to the middle school, where she assisted me throughout the day. She was a sassy, no-nonsense woman in her thirties with a fantastic sense of humor. We got along great.
“Did you hear about Mr. Salas?”
“Miranda just told me when I came through the office. Poor guy. And poor Mrs. Robertson. I’m sure she’s stressed about who’s going to be covering her classes. Doughnut?” She offered a pastry bag to me and I reached inside and snagged a plain glazed. “Didn’t you tell me your Broadway friend was back in town? Maybe he could sub.”
I had no idea if TJ would be interested in something like that, but hehadbeen a theater education major. It couldn’t hurt to ask. I pulled out my phone and shot him a text.
37
TJ
Thursday morning,I pulled into the parking lot of Astaire High School thirty minutes before I was officially supposed to start, killed the engine, and took several deep breaths. The last three days had been a whirlwind. After receiving the text from Jimmy Monday morning, I’d taken exactly five minutes to mull over whether this was something I wanted to pursue before calling the district office, explaining who I was, and inquiring about what I needed to do to apply to become a substitute teacher. As it turned out, only sixty hours of college credit was needed to become a sub, and they’d had me come in for an interview just after lunch. They’d hired me on the spot, but it had taken a couple more days for the background check to come through before I could officially get started.
And now I was staring at the brick-and-stone facade of the high school, feeling…excited. Like I had a purpose and direction I hadn’t even realized had been lacking since returning to Nebraska.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out, smiling when I saw the message was from Jimmy.
Sunshine
Good luck today!
Thanks!
You’re going to be great!
See you at lunch
Looking forward to it
I stepped out of the car into the drizzle, a smile plastered on my face as I made my way inside.
* * *
By lunch,the excitement had melted into exhaustion. The students and staff at the high school had been friendly for the most part. It hadn’t hurt that a couple of girls from one of my dance groups were in my first period. They’d spread the word that I was “fire,” and by second period, multiple TikTok videos had been shared of me in various performances. Absolutely zero learning had taken place by the time I left to head over to the middle school for lunch and to teach my afternoon classes, but I figured a little bit of relationship-building was worth it if I was to be successful the rest of the semester.
I sat in the teacher’s lounge at the middle school, relieved that it was empty for the moment. As much as I enjoyed meeting new people, my brain was overloaded, and I appreciated the moment of peace. Starving, I grabbed my sandwich out of my lunch sack and took a bite. Moments later, Jimmy came in, making my day instantly brighter.
“Hey,” he said, taking the seat opposite mine. “How’s it going so far?”
“I’m exhausted. I can’t believe I still have an entire afternoon of classes to teach.”
“There’s no tired quite like teacher tired. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’m sure I will. Though it’ll be tricky balancing teaching here and teaching at the studio. It helps that Drea was able to shuffle the teaching assignments around so I have Tuesdays off now. I already had Mondays, so that’ll give me two days off in a row.”
The door to the lounge opened and a group of teachers entered, some carrying trays and others with thermal lunch bags.
“Oh, Jimmy. It’s nice to have you join us for lunch today,” an older woman said. She wore a blue cardigan, had reading glasses hanging around her neck, and looked to be somewhere in her fifties. Based purely on stereotypes, I would guess she was a reading or language arts teacher. “We haven’t seen you down here for lunch since the first week of school.”
Jimmy’s cheeks flushed. “I’m eating with my…friend, TJ. He’s subbing for Mrs. Robertson.” I didn’t miss the way he stumbled over the word “friend.”
