Page 20 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

“He doesn’t care for you much,” Ashley observed, noting Cooper’s scowl at me.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” I muttered.

“He’s probably just mad about the job. Is it true that Richmond is having you both teach this semester, but then he’s only going to hire one of you?” Ashley’s eyes had gone round, transforming her face from hawkish to owlish.

“That’s right,” I said. “Didn’t you have to do the same thing when you were hired?”

She shook her head, sending her sleek ponytail swinging. “Oh, no. I had the job and that was that. There was no semester-long duel.”

I realized, then, that Cooper and my situation must be hot faculty gossip. There had been a time in my youth when I would have relished being the center of everyone’s attention, but that time was long gone. Now, I just wanted to fit in and do my job. Someone—literally anyone—else could have the spotlight.

Ashley didn’t seem to notice my consternation. “In fact, I’ve never heard of Richmond doing anything like this before. What about you, girls? These are the hens—Rebecca, Christine, and Phyllis.”

I quickly adjusted my mental model of Ms. Stanton, Ms. Lewis, and Ms. Meyers—veteran Newbury teachers—to Rebecca, Christine, and Phyllis—my new colleagues. Despite being in their 70s, the women exuded a cheerful energy that was infectious.

“I’ve never heard of anything like this before. It’s quite bizarre,” said Phyllis. She seemed to be the ringleader, commanding attention with a decisive nod.

“Yes,” Rebecca added. “Usually Richmond is very quick with his staff appointments, but I heard this one took months. And he still wasn’t able to make up his mind.”

There were general murmurs of ascent and three pitying glances in my direction.

“Don’t worry for one minute,” Ashley insisted, a claw-like hand on my arm. “We’re here to help in any way we can. This place needs an injection of fresh female blood.”

I tried not to grimace at her choice of phrase. I wondered if she tried to be this intense or if she just came by it naturally.

“Though, I have to admit,” Phyllis added, “It really is a shame we can’t keep you both. That tall drink of water really brightens up the furniture.”

The five of us turned as one to regard Cooper standing half a head taller than everyone else on the stage.

“Phyllis,” Ashley hissed. “He was your student! Not appropriate!”

My nose wrinkled, and I had to admit Ashley had a point.

Phyllis huffed and adjusted her blouse, like a chicken ruffling her feathers. “That was a long time ago,” she said. “I would never think that about a student. But you have to admit, that’s a man. The handbook says I can’t fraternize, but there’s no rule against looking, Williams.”

Christine and Rebecca giggled, while Ashley tsked in exasperation. I got the impression that sort of exchange wasn’t uncommon, though neither woman seemed bothered.

I couldn’t help but smile too. “I don’t think you want to fraternize with him. He’s a giant cactus—extra prickly.”

Christine’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Oh, really? I remember him as a student—so quiet, but always considerate. He used to come in after class and help me organize all of my media equipment after the drama kids tore through like tornadoes.”

“He held the door when we came in this evening,” Ashley added. “Very polite.”

“Great.” I sighed and tried not to feel betrayed by my new friends. “He must be reserving his assholery just for me.”

Phyllis patted me on the arm. “Don’t take it personally. He’s probably just salty about the situation, but I’m sure he’ll warm up once everyone settles into a routine.”

I glanced over at Cooper again. He was laughing at something the bald man said, hand on his stomach and head thrown back. He looked like a completely different person from the brooding, grumpy man I had had the misfortune of interacting with, thus far. This version of Cooper was good-natured and self-assured, and the contrast was jarring. He ran a hand through his hair, and I bit my lip to keep from smiling.

The man must have had a sixth sense for when I had my eyes on him. His head twisted in my direction, and his face fell into the scowl that I was growing accustomed to. Busted. I gave him a little finger wave before turning back to the hens.

“Do any of you have tips for handling a difficult coworker?” I asked.

The hens looked between each other before turning to me with matching expressions of pity.

“Nothing? Seriously?”

“Just be yourself. He’ll come around,” Phyllis said. Christine and Rebecca nodded their agreement.