Gritandresilience? Just for kicks, she’d included those passé buzzwords in her bingo board, but she’d never expected them to come up. It wasn’t 2014, after all.
Martin glanced over at her paper, his brow creasing in newfound worry.
Well, he should be worried. Because all that stood between her and bingo now was—
“—digital literacy,” Barnes said.
Bingo.
Martin’s entire face sagged, and she gave his arm a quick pat of consolation.
I’m getting a trough of coffee next time, just so you know. No, a vat, she wrote.
He gazed at his notepad for a minute before writing back.It’s on me. Congratulations. After another long pause, he added,Is that your prize? Or do you want something else?
His handwriting stayed within the lines. Marched across the page, precise and orderly.
She stared at it for a minute as she held onto good sense by the tips of her ebony-polished fingernails.
I think, she wrote slowly,maybe I—
Perfunctory applause punctured her confusion, and she quickly flipped her notebook shut. The other teachers at their table gathered belongings and stared expectantly at the temporary dais.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Barnes,” Tess said. “I think everything else we need to address can be covered via e-mail, so go forth and enjoy the rest of this chilly afternoon, everyone.”
More applause, this time enthusiastic, and the exodus from the cafeteria began.
Once the rest of the table had emptied, Martin watched himself slowly cap his pen. “So? What’s your prize?”
His voice had turned low. A bit tentative.
Just then, Keisha appeared at their table. “Ms. Owens, I’d like to speak with you for a minute, if possible.”
Shit. Had she seen the bingo game? Or realized two of her teachers were writing notes to each other during the presentation? But if so, why hadn’t she requested a meeting with both of them?
“Of course.” Rose deposited her papers and notebook into her briefcase, making sure the bingo board got buried in a pile of memos. “Would you like to meet in my classroom?”
Keisha shook her head. “I have a doctor’s appointment. Let’s talk on the way to the parking lot, if that’s all right with you.”
“Sure,” Rose said.
As she and Keisha turned for the cafeteria door, Martin was watching them both, his pen still clutched in his hand. She offered a little wave, which he returned, and then she left.
Once they’d exited the school, Keisha repositioned her briefcase on her shoulder and glanced at Rose. “Ms. Owens, I’m aware that this has been a difficult year for you, and I want to reiterate my thanks for your professionalism in dealing with the challenges you’ve faced. Especially given the source of those challenges.”
Her voice was low. Too low for the handful of other teachers in the parking lot to hear.
“If there’s anything I can do to help you bolster next year’s AP U.S. History enrollment, please tell me. And you should know that I’m advocating for you at every level of administration. Including at Central Office. You might not always be aware of those efforts, but they’re happening.”
Dale. Keisha was trying to shield Rose from Dale. Had been trying for years, most likely. Which wasn’t a surprise, really, but…
Dammit, sometimes keeping a safe emotional distance from her colleagues sucked.
They’d reached Keisha’s shiny red compact, and Rose paused for a moment to collect herself before speaking.
Still, her voice was a bit too thick. Too husky. “Thank you. I’m very grateful for your support.”
Shit. Keisha deserved more than that.
