Her observation cut to the core of my own fears, the ones that said I would never belong, never be one of them. “I noticed,” I replied, forcing a lightness I didn’t feel.
Gabby’s presence was a comfort, a flicker of warmth in the sea of hostility. “Where’d you come from?” She asked innocently but pointed.
“Around,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I’m with Menace.” His name slipped out, a barrier against the invasive curiosity of the others.
Her eyes widened, then softened into understanding. “Oh hell! Are you the girl? The other one that was rescued when the Luna was rescued?” The look of surprise was genuine.
I shrugged. “That’s me.”
“Well, you landed in the right spot, girlfriend. Most women around here would have loved for Menace to have rescued them.” Her smile was friendly.
I watched the other teachers as they whispered their glances like knives. A part of me hated to lie to these people. I didn’t like being dishonest. It wasn’t in my nature. Being an outsider was also hard. My mind raced with doubts. Gabby’s company eased the pressure, but the fear of exposure still clawed at my insides.
The hostility followed me throughout the day, a shadow I couldn’t shake. The teachers cornered me in the halls, their smiles as sharp as their questions.
“Where’d you say you were from again?” one asked, her tone syrupy sweet.
“Dairyville’s a long way from anywhere.” Another’s words dripped with insinuation.
“How’d a girl like you catch Bridger?” The implication stung; the suggestion that I’d somehow tricked him.
My answers were short and defensive. “Guess I got lucky,” I said, echoing Gabby’s earlier comment. It felt like a lie in my mouth.
They huddled together, exchanging knowing looks. “Lunch duty, huh? Tough break.” Their laughter followed me down the hallway, a reminder that I was on the outside looking in. “You were a prisoner in that place? Bet that was a nightmare, huh?” They threw out that question like it was a joke, then whispered to each other and threw more sideways glances. I know wolves tend to be rougher around the edges. But we also feel things deeply.
Gabby caught up with me between classes, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t let them get to you,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”
I wanted to believe her, wanted it with a desperation that surprised me. “Does anyone else have lunch duty?” I asked, the question betraying my insecurity.
She hesitated, a slight frown marring her features. “Well, not teachers. It’s usually cafeteria staff.”
Her confirmation fueled my suspicion, Karen’s handiwork becoming more obvious with each passing moment. “Thought so.”
“Give it time,” Gabby encouraged, her sincerity a lifeline. “You’ll fit right in.”
I squeezed her arm. “I truly appreciate your being so kind to me.” It was important to me that she knew how much it meant.
But the doubt lingered, as relentless as the eyes that followed me through the day.
Karen’s office felt colder, more impersonal when she summoned me at the end of the day. The look she gave me was as unfriendly as the one she’d greeted me with that morning.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her tone sharp and condescending.
“I think so,” I replied, my voice steady despite my frustration.
“I heard some noise from your room.” Her accusation was thinly veiled. “More than I expected.”
“Kids were excited.” I kept my tone neutral, refusing to rise to her bait.
“Excitement is good,” she said, but her expression said otherwise. “As long as it’s controlled.”
I nodded, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her gaze was piercing, a challenge and a dismissal all at once. “We have high standards here. It’s not like anywhere you’ve been before.”
Her words struck deep, an echo of my own fears. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I nodded again. “I understand.”
“You have a lot to prove, Ms. Galloway.” The name sounded like a curse in her mouth.
