Page 17 of Pity Pact

Once I’ve steadied myself, I turn around and demand, “Excuse me?”

I see a guy about my age slowly approaching. He’s average in height and looks okay, but he’s clearly not very personable. When he gets close enough to see me, he seems truly chagrined while saying, “Sorry, I thought you were one of the kids.”

“Because I’m vertically challenged?” I briefly wonder why I’m being so ungracious, but then I realize the bossy man reminds me of my childhood piano teacher. Mr. Harvey was not my biggest fan and he made sure his feelings were known.

This guy shrugs his shoulders like my size might indeed be the reason he mistook me for a student. Little does he know that no middle school girl alive would be caught dead in my double-stuffed lime green parka. I look like a sick tick about to pop.

I put my hands on my hips like I’m preparing to give him a tongue-lashing, but at the last minute, I change my mind. “I’m Paige Holland, the seventh-grade math teacher. Who are you?”

“Chip Baker. I’m the substitute eighth-grade science teacher. Mr. Marks is out on medical leave.”

“Steve is sick? What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. I just know that I’ll be here for at least the next two months.”

Holy smokes, if he’s gone for two months, it must be something serious. “Your name is Chip Baker?” I stifle a giggle as a smile plays around my mouth. It’s not as bad as if he were named Toilet Paper, but still… it’s not ideal.

He doesn’t bother answering my question, which makes me guess he doesn’t enjoy humor at his own expense. Instead, he asks, “Would you please excuse me? I need to get to my classroom.” His words are fine, but his tone suggests he’s ready for battle.

Instead of stepping aside, I block the door with my body so I can walk in before him. Then I stomp my boots on the mat before turning toward the office to find out what’s wrong with Steve. That’s when the bell rings. If I don’t get to my class before thekids, they’ll run wild. And while that’s something I expect after such a long break, I don’t need to make it worse by not being there.

Quickly changing directions, I wind up running smack into Chip. We both get knocked off balance, resulting in our crashing to the floor in an ungraceful heap.

“Would you watch where you’re going?” Chip is obviously not feeling chipper. He quickly scoots away from me and begins a physical comedy routine that would put the Marx Brothers to shame. I know this because my grandpa made me watch all their movies when I was a kid. Chip performs a graceless floor dance that leaves him with no chance of success. But even so, it’s highly entertaining to watch.

Meanwhile, I roll over so I’m on all fours before tucking my right foot under me and gradually assuming a standing position. Once I’m upright, Chipper reaches a hand in my direction. “Would you mind helping me?”

“I would, but I’m late for class.”

I’m about to tell him how to get up safely, but he interrupts me. “I’m only on the floor because of you! The least you could do is lend a hand.”

Instead of engaging in open warfare with Not-so-Chipper, I choose to simply turn around and go to my classroom.

My morning plugs along easily. It’s nice to see my kids again, particularly Jamie’s daughter, Sammy. She’s a real treat and both Missy and I love her like she’s a long-lost niece or, in Missy’s case, an impending stepdaughter.

When the lunch bell rings, I grab my purse. I didn’t have time to pack anything, so I’m going to attempt to cobble something semi-edible from the vending machine in the teachers’ lounge. But before I reach my destination, I hear my name called over the loudspeaker. “Will Miss Holland and Mr. Baker please report to the front office? That’s Miss Holland and Mr. Baker to the front office.”

I turn to retrace my steps, wondering why in the heck I’mbeing called to the front office with Chipwreck. When I walk in, he’s already standing at the desk.

“Chip-ahoy!” I greet obnoxiously, but he refuses to look at me.

The school secretary, Mrs. Snipes, announces, “Mrs. Grant will see you both now.”

I roll my eyes while storming past my newfound nemesis.Did he tattle on me? Is that why we’re here?What a doofus.

As I walk into Hallie’s office, I smile brightly. “How were your holidays? I hope you and the kids got in all the sledding you were planning to do.” The reason behind my jovial demeanor is twofold. I really do like Hallie, but I want to make it clear that Not-so-Chipper is the outsider.

Hallie stands up. “We had a fantastic break. How about you?”

“Really good until I walked into school this morning.” I shoot Chip a pointed side-eye.

“Oh, no. What happened?” She looks between us with real concern.

What does she mean, what happened? Isn’t that why I’m here? “I … uh …Mr. Bakerand I sort of collided, and we fell.”

“Are you both okay?”

Huh. So, Chip didn’t rat me out after all. Then why in the world have we been called to the office? I guess there’s only one way to find out. “We’re fine.” Before he can contradict me, I ask, “What did you want to see us about?”

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