Two fucking weeks since Damien last messaged me, insisting once again that he needed space. When they scheduled his surgery in Miami, I planned on sticking around, even contacting the school to let them know I might not be there for the first few days. It pained me to miss out on those crucial moments with my students, but Damien’s health and well-being came first. There was no question in my mind. However, when I told him of my plans, Damien insisted I head back. Hurt lanced through me. It was so tempting to fight him, but how could I? He was the one who’d gotten hurt, the one facing a career-ending injury. All I wanted was to support him as much as possible. If he asked forspace, that was the only thing I could do.
Leaving him behind physically hurt, as though I’d left a piece of myself with him in Miami, but I couldn’t imagine what he must be going through. Baseball was Damien’s life, and he’d just learned that he’d be out of the game for the rest of the season, if not longer. Even if the surgery was a success, there was a good possibility he might never play baseball again. That would jar anyone, but I couldn’t imagine the strain for a professional athlete.
So I made excuses, forgave every unanswered text, let go of every ignored phone call, told myself it was just a part of his processing, that he needed time to come to terms with his injury.
But with each passing day, my empathy turned to annoyance.
He’d never explicitly said we were over, but everything pointed to that being the case. I mean, I had to find out his surgery went well from Parker, and that was only because Ollie needled him until he gave it up. All my hope that this was only temporary died then. As much as I wanted to be with Damien, that was the last straw, making me face the harsh truth: Damien didn’t want to be with me.
Over the past couple of days, anger and sadness had become familiar friends. After spending most of the summer with Damien, I’d gotten used to his company, even craved it. During our time together, he’d made me feel safe, convinced me I could trust him by always following through and never giving me empty promises. He made me fall for him, and now, when I was ready to catch him, Damien wouldn’t let me.
“It’s just his stupid male pride,” Ollie saidas she shuffled through the rest of my belongings. She pulled out an entire package of color labels and stared at me. “We need to discuss your obsessive need to color code everything.”
I glared at her before snatching them out of her hand. “As soon as we discuss your refusal to use a laundry basket. Most grown adults do not keep all their clothes on their floor.”
“Okay, valid.” Ollie paused, her hands on her hips. “So, what do you want to do about Damien?”
“What am I supposed to do? He’s in a lot of pain and in recovery. I’m not about to add to his troubles by reaching out to him again. He has my number. If he wanted to talk to me, he would.”
“You’re not complaining, Bri. Damien got dealt a shitty hand, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t get to treat you badly because of it.”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue in Damien’s defense, when my office door swung open. Brad stepped inside, his nose wrinkling as he took in my pastel-colored posters and impeccably labeled supplies. Narrowing my eyes, I steeled my spine, meeting his glare with one of my own. “Can I help you, Brad?”
“Did you get that paperwork on the new student? They’re going over our allotted numbers.”
I sighed, rubbing my hand over the bridge of my nose. “The district got a variance from the state. As long as the student doesn’t start on the very first day, we’re allowed to exceed the number of students with IEPs.”
“It’s bullshit,” Brad scoffed.
Rage bubbled on my tongue, but I kept my mouth shut, needing to keep the peace between us. I forgot Ollie stood only a couple of feet away from me, though, and she did not havethe same compulsion. “What the hell did you just say to her?”
Brad’s eyes widened, taking in Ollie with a sneer on his lips. “Who are you?”
“I don’t matter,” Ollie said, stepping around me to get in Brad’s face. “What matters is that you came into my friend’s office and started barking orders at her. She’s not your assistant, she’s your co-teacher, and you’re damn lucky to have her in the classroom with you. You better treat her with some respect.”
Brad’s eyes darted to me, and some of the arrogance deflated from his shoulders. “Sorry, Sideris. Didn’t mean to come at you like that. The district keeps pulling these stunts—piling on our class when we’ve already got a lot of students with high needs. It’s ridiculous.”
I swallowed, unable to hide my shock at Brad’s apology. “I hate it too.”
Brad stepped further into my office, dropping into the chair opposite my kidney table. It was almost comically small, used for my students, not full-grown adults. Ollie bit her lip, obviously noticing the same thing. As he sat down, Brad stayed quiet for a long moment, fidgeting with the now-bare strip on his finger. Oh, hell. That patch was a familiar sight. My ring finger had the same band for far too long. It took ages for it to fade, and I hated that almost as much, as if my decade of marriage never existed at all.
Brad’s eyes followed mine as he tucked his bare ring finger under the other. He cleared his throat. “I don’t like to broadcast this, but if we’re going to work together, you should know. I’m going through some stuff at home. My wifeasked for some time apart, and it’s lasting a lot longer than I hoped.”
“I get it,” I said, taking the spot next to him. “Went through my divorce last year. It fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, it really does.” Brad turned to look at me, less guarded than he’d ever been. “I want this to work, Bri. Not just for the kids, but I need this too. It’s no secret you don’t like me?—”
“I like you.” Brad and Ollie both stared at me, like my lie was clear for the world to see. “You’re a good guy, Brad. We just have different teaching styles. I don’t know how we’re going to mesh, but we need to figure something out if we want to survive the year.”
“Agree,” Brad said.
“However,” I added, “I’m not going to sit back and let you take over everything. This is my class too, and I want equal say in what happens with our students.”
He paused, taking in my words, before nodding. “This whole co-teaching thing, it’s new for me. Ethan’s been up my ass the past few years, and this seemed like some sort of punishment.” He flinched and faced me. “Not because of you, but the level of scrutiny I’m under. You might not think I do, but I care about this job, about the kids, no matter what everyone else says.” He ran his hand over his face. “The past couple of years have been tough at home, and that’s where I’ve had to focus.”
Now it was my turn to flinch.Guilty. Many times over the past couple of years, I’d questioned why Brad didn’t just quit. He didn’t seem to care too much about the kids, never going above and beyond like so many of us. Looking at him now, how he absentmindedly rubbed his empty ring finger, made me realize how unfair it’d been to hold him to the same standards I held myself. Time would tell if he meant it when he said he cared about this job, but forthe first time, I wanted to look past my assumptions and see the person hiding underneath.
So, I offered him a truth of my own.
