Chapter 1
Change Sucks
Sitting in an uncomfortable, squeaky plastic chair with the backs of my legs sticking to it, I squirmed to fix the skirt of my dress. The old air-conditioning unit struggled to keep up with the muggy Georgia heat, and Mother Nature was definitely winning the battle.
I hate waiting.
I hate change.
Where is this guy?
Glancing around, it wasn’t lost on anyone that all the teachers of Garrison Elementary were getting antsy. The new principal was running late—really late—to our meet and greet. Also, it was barely a month into our school year, making a change in administration that much more galling.
The room was buzzing with whispers and speculation as the vice principal addressed us quickly. “I know Mr. Hartigan is on his way. Please sit tight everyone.” Mrs. Nightingale’s pudgy cheeks perked up as she forced a smile, glancing around the room. “I know you’re all going to love him. We had a wonderful meeting this morning, and I am tickled with optimism for all the fresh ideas he is going to bring to the table.”
“Have you hear anything about this Mr. Hartigan?” Shirley asked under her breath, fanning herself with a manila folder clutched in her tiny hand as sweat beaded around her hairline.
I pursed my lips. “Not a thing.”
“That’s so strange, isn’t it?” She sighed, leaning farther back in her chair. “You’d think he’d want to make a better first impression than this. We have lives, too.”
Dramatically rolling my eyes, I started to agree with her when a huffing, well-dressed man rushed into the room.
“I am so sorry I have kept all of you waiting.” The man wheezed as he darted to the front of the cafeteria. “I parked in the wrong lot and got completely turned upside down.”
Excuses, excuses.Is this guy for real?
It was shocking to me how young he looked. In my brain, a principal was typically a graying, wise, Dumbledore kind of person, not a Calvin Klein model lookalike in a thousand-dollar suit.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” The new guy waved quickly. “I’m Blake Hartigan, and I am extremely excited to be taking over for Mr. Alton. I know I have big shoes to fill, but I am up for the thrilling challenge.”
He dabbed his forehead with the back of his hand before continuing. “A little about me: I was a teacher in Dallas for ten years after graduating from the University of Dallas, where I got my master’s in education. I know I am a young buck when it comes to administration, but don’t let that fool you. I am here to support you, the students, and the parents to make this the best elementary school in the area.”
His Texan drawl wafted through the large room, echoing throughout as we all sat there frustrated. Garrison Elementary had taken a hit when Mr. Alton suddenly fell ill over the summer, but we had rallied together, drawing on the intimate kinship we shared.
“What is your plan to bring in more sponsorship funds?” Mrs. Crenshaw hollered out from behind me before the newest member of our staff could even finish with his long-winded introduction.
Mr. Hartigan nodded tersely. “Excellent question. I have spoken at length with Mr. Alton and Mrs. Nightingale about that very issue. I know the coffers are low, and I have been brainstorming ideas to fix that problem swiftly. I want to make it very clear that we are not in as rough of shape as some of you might think. With a little tightening of the purse strings, we’ll be back on track in no time at all.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.” Mrs. Crenshaw didn’t miss a beat, squinting her eyes at him through her thick glasses as her hands flew into the air. She pushed her graying hair away from her face, adding, “Did we get a politician or a principal?”
The murmurs of agreement hissed as everyone started nodding their heads, and a few even clapped.
“I assure y’all the allocation of funds is at the forefront of my agenda, and yes, I do know how political that sounds. In fairness, being part of administration does mean there is a tiny bit of a political element in the job description that has to be dealt with accordingly. I know the bake sale is a huge draw for parents and brings in a good chunk of money. Unfortunately, it just isn’t cutting it anymore. We have talked about implementing a mandatory parent volunteer program that will help alleviate some of the financial strain on the school, along with encouraging more parents to be involved in their children’s education.”
“What about working single parents?” Shirley barked out. “We have to take that into consideration.”
She hada solid point.
Blake’s steely eyes darted in our direction. “I have taken that into consideration. The number of hours parents will be asked to complete yearly will be very minimal, but we will want to inspire those parents who can spare more time to do so. Parental involvement is not just about lowering costs—it will be to the benefit of the students in countless ways. We just have to make the parents see that.”
I did have to hand it to the man—he was good under pressure.
Mr. Frederick stayed true to form, raising his hand to ask a question.
“Yes?” Blake pointed to the mousy, bashful teacher in the front row.
“What about annual raises? We heard rumors that they will not be happening this year.” Darren Frederick was one of the sweetest, more dorky humans I had ever met in my life. He was one of the only people under the age of seventy who carried a handkerchief and regularly used a pocket protector.
