It was during my lunch that the office called again. I have to run over from where I’m admiring my new classroom addition at the window to get the phone.
“Hel—”
“You need to get all of your boxes. Next time, warn us if you order anything.” Jill hangs up before I can respond—as usual.
All your boxestells me to grab a utility cart real quick before I head down. When I get to the office, I see a few bigger boxes and I literally pat my back because I thought ahead.Yay me.While I stack the boxes onto the cart, I feel an uneasy chill run down my spine. After settingdown the fifth and final box, I glance over to the main office desk to see Jill eyeing me.
I freeze under her scrutiny.Does she know? Does she know I’m taking down her niece without an ounce of guilt?She holds my gaze for a beat longer than what’s comfortable, blinks, then looks back to her computer screen. She grabs her phone and dials a number without looking back.
I get out before she can read my mind. Once I’m back in the classroom, I sit at my desk, grab a pair of scissors and start with the smallest box. I always start with the smallest box. It opens up to reveal a bunch of school supplies filling it to the top: five containers of dry erase markers, board cleaning spray, and those cool magnetic erasers.Oh yay! That might be enough to finish the year!
Three of my wishlist items are in this one box.What amazing generosity. I check the box for the receipt, but it’s just a list of the items and saysBox one of five.
No way.
Filled with an electric giddiness, I hurry up and grab the second biggest box and see that another eight of my wishlist items are in there.Box two of five.By the time I open the final box, I’m biting the frick out of my lip when the last of my twenty wishlist items are in there. The gift note in it reads,What you do is important.
At some point I must have started crying because my face is all wet when the bell rings for the kids to finish their lunch and return to class.
?????
Ronnie had to reschedule our meeting for the next day, but that was fine with me. Taylor was mostly with other teachers these last few days. I’ve found my stride and don’t really need the extra hands. At least that’s what I told Kirby. He gave me a weird anxious look and scurried away.
Unfortunately, I have the thought too soon because Taylor ruins my plans of casually existing without her toxic presence right when Ipark my vehicle the next morning. She looks smug as fuck in her business professional skirt and blazer. The facial expression makes her look like she’s smelling something rotten.Her morals probably.I mentally prepare myself for the interaction, only for her to give me a look over her shoulder and flounce off into the school.Ominous.
Despite the weird beginning, the day runs smoothly with a promise from Ronnie that we’ll be meeting in the afternoon. But after lunch, Taylor’s back in the classroom; however, she’s quiet for once. When I see Ronnie walk in halfway through class, I realize why. Taylorknowssomething.
“Good afternoon ladies, scholars.” Ronnie says.
“Good afternoon.”
“Heya.”
“Howdy.”
“Sup, princi-Pal.”
My students sound off in response. Nobody addressing her in the same way.Middle schoolers, man.
“Ms. Duchamp,” Ronnie says, a seriousness in her tone that puts me on edge. “I have Ms. Hall coming in to cover for you, so we can have a quick meeting.” As she tells me this, I feel Taylor trying to burn off the side of my face with her glare. But when I look, she’s adding notes to a notebook I’ve never seen.
Ronnie looks in her direction too and dismisses her in a curt but professional voice. “Ms. Terri needs help next door, Ms. Harrison.” Taylor nods her head oh-so-politely in response and glides out of the classroom, ducking around Sonya as she shows up at the door.
Most of the kids cheer at her presence, but I hear at least one distinctiveboo.I whip my head back to the class fast enough to break flipping speed records to deal with that disrespectful bologna, but before I can say anything, Sonya is touching my arm and shaking her head.
Fine.
I don’t really get a chance to orient myself before the class is emptying out behind Sonya, and Ronnie is leading me down the hall. While still in the hallway, she stops real quick, looks at me, opens hermouth like she wants to say something, then closes it and keeps walking. I’m starting to get a sense something is wrong.
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and check my watchCarter Calling.I click the side button to ignore the call and send it to voicemail. I feel it ring again, so I take it out to shut it off. Now is not the right time for me to be on my cellphone.
When we enter the conference room, I see that our esteemed Mr Kirby is not invited, but instead HR from Central Office is sitting at the table; a notebook and pen sitting in front of her. I watch as Ronnie takes a seat across from me, next to the HR lady, and my discomfort settles as a heavy weight in my gut.
This isn’t my meeting.
My suspicion is confirmed when Ronnie looks at me and says the most ridiculous and absurd crap I’ve heard in my life. “We have had faculty complaints that you are being belligerent in your treatment of a fellow faculty member, and that you’re bringing your personal life into the classroom.”
Shut the front door.This has to be a joke.
