“Here, I can unload into the box. You figure out how you want to sort the new books.”
“You’re a doll, thank you. I spent too much time gardening this summer, and my back does not agree with me.”
“It’s no worry.” I spent ten minutes placing books in a box, mastering it like a game of Tetris, and stood to set it on the desk. I kept my favorite book on top, debating if I wanted to take it for my class library.Chicka Chicka Boom Boomwould always be one of my favorites. “I’ll run these to the library real quick.”
“Oh, perfect. If you want anything before you take them, go ahead.”
It wasn’t too heavy, but it did strain my muscles as I headed down the first-grade hallway and toward the school library center. The maker-space section had Legos and all sorts of crafts. I would’velovedhaving something like that when I was in school. I’d always loved crafts, but my time was always limited with all the traveling. Always an event, or a mission, that my parents dragged us to. Being a positive, consistent adult in these kids’ lives that fostered creativity was a reflection of the time I had in school. It fueled me to be the best I could for them.
“Hey, Miranda,” I said to the librarian. “These are from Marisa.”
“She did mention that, yes.” She pointed to a red-and-white table in the back corner. “Go ahead and set them there. I’ll get to them in a minute.”
I did as she asked, and when I set the box down, the flap opened, and I said to heck with it. I took my favorite book. The cover was still intact, but the pages were yellowed. I picked it up and ran my fingers over it. Marisa did offer I could have one of the books, and I smiled, already knowing where I’d put it on my shelf.
With the book tucked under my arm, I waved to Miranda just as the hairs on the back of my neck tingled. Christopher glared at me as he stood at the counter, mid-conversation with Miranda. He narrowed his ice-blue eyes at the book under my arm, and my stomach dropped with dread. It took a lot of effort to smile, but I managed. “Have a great day, Miranda!”
“You too, Gilly! Oh! Drop off all the materials you need laminated. I’ll have time later this afternoon to get the machine fired up.”
“Will do.”
My neck hurt from how tight my muscles got whenever Christopher was in the same room, and I ducked my head and beelined for my classroom. The brief joy at findingChicka Chicka Boom Boomdisappeared from his accusing glare. I hated how flustered I was. Why in the hell was he so nice to everyone but me? Was I that unlikeable? Did I do something to him for him to hate me? I couldn’t recall a single thing from that night together.
My fingers shook a little as I set the book on my shelf near my award and took a few seconds to settle myself. I didn’t need him to like me. I had my friends and my students. It just sucked because it bothered me. I stretched my arms over my head and took a calming breath, pushing him out of my mind. The only thing I needed to complete my room was the flexible seating, and I got my phone to track the shipment and squealed when it said delivered.
That meant they were in the front office.
All thoughts of Christopher disappeared, and I practically skipped down the hallway and into the double doors. Sally, the office manager, wiggled her brows the second she saw me. “Oh, your order just got here, and I’m dying to see what else you got! Your room is just the absolute cutest, Gilly.”
“Thanks,” I said, blushing at her compliment. My room was a source of pride. There was nothing too expensive or time-consuming that I wouldn’t do for my kids, and providing a creative, colorful, and engaging classroom was my passion. The large boxes contained four bouncy balls and four standing desks.
Sally got up from her chair and pushed a dolly my way. “Need any help?”
“Oh, I got it. I’m itching to get started with these new seating arrangements,” I practically sang with glee as I loaded the boxes onto the dolly and pushed it out of the office. “Thank you so much.”
“Let me know when you’re set up, so I can peek in there. My baby girl is going to be a first grader next year, and I’ve already been telling her all about your fun room. Fingers crossed she gets you!”
That comment lit me up inside with pride and joy that I never got anywhere else. I smiled and let that high carry over as I unpacked the boxes in my classroom and made a game plan on how to set them up. I tapped my finger on my chin as a large, overbearing presence stood at my door and the happiness disappeared. “Christopher,” I said, not hiding my dislike. “What do you want?”
He put his hands on his hips and studied the packages on the floor. His gaze swept over the bouncy balls, the half-created desks, and the adjustable table that could go up and down by two feet. He curled his lip up before tossing a package on my desk. “Miranda said you’d like these.”
It was a pack of sticky glue, and I smiled. “Yes, I would.”
He scoffed and a reluctant smile crossed his face. “You go all out like this every year?”
“Yes,” I said, my hackles raising. “I do.”
“Interesting.”
Dang it. Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Why is this interesting?”
“You could’ve spent all summer planning lessons, figuring out how to teach students standards and how to spell and say words. But instead, you did who knows what to get all this stuff. Hundreds of dollars of junk that doesn’t make a lick of a difference when it comes to doing your job.” He eyed the award again and laughed. “Let me guess, you buy new toys and prizes for them all the time. You think students likeyou,but really, you use all this stuff to buy their affection.”
“That’s…that’s not true,” I said, my voice weak and pathetic as he hit me right in the center of my insecurity. “It enhances learning to have options and provides students different ways to absorb the material.”
“False,” he said, his tone stronger. “It overwhelms them. They need a teacher who cares and a teacher who meets them at their level so they can learn. They don’t need all this crap.” He waved his hand in the air and twisted his mouth into a scowl.
“I’d rather have all thiscrapthan be boring. Your walls are bare, and you have nothing that says fun in your room. How can you possibly inspire anything?” My legs shook. I reached over to steady myself on my shelf. My normally calm and goofy demeanor was shot to hell around him. I hated confrontation.
