Doubting he’d ever been smart or brave, she stormed out of his office, swallowing back her retort. Now, knowing his comments had been overheard by a student, she pinched her lips together.
“He was berating you for doing the right thing, for being brave. I marked a lot of quotes from Number the Stars. Another one was this. ‘That’s all that brave means—not thinking about the dangers. Just thinking about what you must do.’ I know my opinion doesn’t mean shit, Ms. McBride, but there’s no such thing as unnecessarily brave. You were just brave. He’s wrong. You did the right thing.”
As tears threatened again, she sucked in another deep breath, inclining her head slightly. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
He offered a chin lift and passed her on his way out the door. Just before he disappeared into the hallway, she called out, “Russ.” When he looked over his shoulder toward her, she added, “Never think your opinion doesn’t mean shit. Sometimes, it means everything.”
She watched his lips quirk upward before he ducked his head and joined the masses of students walking down the hall.
Packing up, she was more tired than usual. Her face ached from the movements of often smiling as she taught. She loved having juniors. They were old enough to handle discussions on American Literature… usually. They came to her with their thoughts, problems, hopes, dreams, and plans. She still had time to have an influence on their lives, and in turn, they on hers.
Reaching up, her fingers gently ran over her puffy eye. Her vision was still a bit blurry although better than over the weekend. She hadn’t been able to clearly see the men making such a racket with their lumber when she had been so rudely awakened. Margaretha said she was having some work done and had told the contractor he could leave the wood on her property until he started working. I wonder when the work will start. And how long it will last. And how much noise they’ll make.
“Hey, lady.”
She startled as she looked up, then smiled as her teacher friends walked into her classroom, Barbara, Suzette, and Renée. “Hey.”
Renée, a chemistry teacher, plopped down into one of the chairs. “How’d you do today?”
“Not too bad. My face is a little stiff, and I’m ready to head home.”
“I heard about your chat with Mr. Carswell this morning,” Suzette, an art teacher, said, her eyes flashing. “I swear, if you hadn’t stepped in and one of those boys’ parents complained to the School Board Office that no teacher intervened, then he’d be on your case for not doing anything.”
Renée nodded in sympathy, pushing her blonde curls back from her face. “You can’t win with that man. I’ve heard he’s looking to get booted up to a School Board position. I wish he’d leave the area altogether. He’s just not a supportive principal.”
“I suppose I was the talk of the faculty lounge on Friday?” Caitlyn grimaced, already knowing the answer to the question.
“Most of the faculty supported you, of course,” Barbara said. “There’s always a few old biddies that clucked about you putting yourself in danger needlessly. And, of course, a few other teachers that claim it was reckless, mostly because it would never dawn on them to intervene at all.”
“Other than that, everybody thinks you did the right thing. And the kids think you’re awesome!” Renée said, her expression full of sympathy.
Caitlyn sighed and shook her head, slinging her purse and school bag over her shoulder, tired of having her motives dissected. “I’m ready to head home. Are you guys leaving now?”
“I told Jamie I’d help out with track practice,” Barbara said. She cast her eyes to the side before looking back at Caitlyn. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I go out with him?”
Waving her hand in front of her, Caitlyn shook her head. “Absolutely! He’s a nice guy but there was no spark between us. He likes to joke about it, but honestly, we’re just friends.”
She caught Barbara’s smile and hoped that if Jamie did ask her out, he’d be a better date with Barbara than he had been with her. His conversation had bordered on the monotonous when the only thing he talked about was the track team’s performances, running, and his low body fat count.
“What about you? Any hot dates recently?”
She glanced back to Renée and shrugged. “I got asked out for this next weekend. It’s a blind date, a friend of a friend.”
“Oooh, then you’ll have to fill us in on how it goes.” She and Renée waved goodbye to the others then headed out to the teachers’ parking lot.
“You weren’t able to be at the faculty meeting on Friday afternoon, but Mr. Carswell talked about the tight budget, as usual. He said the teachers are welcome to do fundraisers, but we have to fill out all the paperwork ahead of time with the bookkeeper.”
“What kind of fundraisers?” Caitlyn asked, stopping when she got to her car.
“One suggestion was that we have booths at the sports activities where people in the community can sell their crafts and the school would get a percentage. I don’t know how that would work, and the only person I know who might participate is my grandmother who still crochets winter caps.”
Waving goodbye, Caitlyn sighed as she started her car and pulled out of the parking lot. Low school budgets, principals that only cared about what the SBO bought, struggling students, a blind date Friday night, and a work crew that left more materials behind the house again early yesterday morning… no wonder I’m exhausted!
5
“And then I got to visit the CEO in his corner office that overlooks the harbor. He’s telling me that he’s impressed with my record, and if I keep it up, one day I could work on that floor as well. That’s the executive floor, you understand.”
Caitlyn plastered on a smile to cover a yawn. She’d heard the cheerleading coach say numerous times to the girls and guys with the pom-poms. “Smile, even when the team is losing. You have to keep up everyone’s spirits, especially when you don’t feel like smiling!”
The blind date was going… Well, it was going, just not fast enough. The restaurant was great—casual with a bar to the side. The food was prepared perfectly, and her drink was excellent. The music was also good. But the man? She wanted to bang her head on the table.
He droned on about the company he worked for, his rising in the ranks, his sales record, his condo, and the new car he was test-driving tomorrow. He’d even asked if she wanted to go on a test drive with him, which she turned down due to a fictional previous engagement.
A group of men had come in and settled at the far end of the bar, their laughter sounding real, making her wish she was there instead of at the table pretending interest in her date’s career. Her vision was still a bit blurry in her injured eye, but she could see well enough to know they were casually dressed, relaxed, not for show. Good-looking in their jeans and work shirts compared to her date’s white button-up and red tie.
Why is dating so hard? She had given in to accepting a date with Jamie, the physical education teacher and track coach at school. She enjoyed his company other than his unwavering dedication to exercise and diet. At the restaurant, when he announced the calorie and carb count of the lasagna on her plate that she was in the middle of scarfing, she knew they had no future other than friendship.