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“No.” I sigh. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone willing to take me on part-time.” I’d spent most of the morning scouring the job section of the paper, and I’d signed up for several temp agencies.
“Well, keep trying. Something will come up.”
“Yeah, I know it will.”
“So,” she says, changing the subject, “have you heard from Max?”
“Ellie,” I groan. “You need to let it go. Be thankful I’m still speaking to you after that stunt.”
“Okay, okay,” she mutters. “I’m only trying to help you.”
“No, you’re trying to push me, and all you’re doing is pushing me farther away,” I retort. “Let me figure this out, El. I appreciate you want to help me, but I need to do this alone, okay?”
She sighs. “Okay. But I’m here if you need me.”
Chapter Seven
Max
My alarm goes off at six a.m. Reaching over, I slap it with my hand. It continues to beep, so I rip the clock radio from the wall and hurl it across the room. I’m not a morning person. The only thing that gets me out of bed is that I don’t want to risk turning up to work late, which is a real possibility if I don’t get my ass into gear.
I almost sleepwalk through showering and preparing my breakfast. I unlock Lance’s doggy door, allowing him outside, and then finish the rest of my coffee before I take him for a quick run around the block. The caffeine helps wake me up, but I know I won’t be fully alert until well after nine.
Fuck this. I should’ve become a baker or something. At least then I could sleep all day. That’s what I get for thinking teaching would be awesome because of all the holidays. Every morning it’s the same fight, but once I do finally get in there, I love my job.
It’s my fourth week as principal of Southern Elementary School, and I finally feel as if I’m beginning to settle in. Other staff and students are beginning to relax around me. Some of my co-workers are even inviting me out. Not all the staff has been welcoming toward me, though.
“It’s not funny, Max¸” Kelly gently scolds me. “We shouldn’t be tolerating violence at all, no matter what her circumstances are. I know you’re new to this school, but Mr. Mattich wouldn’t have—”
“Last time I checked, Miss Walker, Mr. Mattich had retired and I had been hired to replace him,” I say pointedly. “Are you questioning my ability to handle this role?”
She blushes. “No, of course I’m not.”
Bullshit.
I may have only been here for a few weeks, but I recognize jealously when I see it. I’d been warned that Kelly had been up against me for the role. She obviously hadn’t handled being rejected too well.
“When Kiara and Tilly get here, please send them to my office. I’ll deal with this issue.”
“But—”
“That’s all for now, Miss Walker. Please close the door on your way out.”
She stares at me openmouthed for a minute, and then turns on her heel, stalking out of my office. I wince as she slams the door shut.
Is it such a bad thing that I don’t see this as a huge issue? Sure, Tilly shouldn’t have hit Jimmy, but she’s hardly a problem kid. I’ve seen worse behavior at some of the other schools I’ve been at, and dealt with it without getting the parents involved.
I wonder how much of this is Kelly wanting to flex her muscles and show everyone that she could do a better job of running this school than I can. I can already sense that this isn’t going to be the end of her trying to show me up.
After a pretty uneventful morning, I’m left to deal with two students caught cheating on tests, a girl who skipped the last three days of last week, and a sixth-grader who smuggled his cat into class. I dish out detentions for the first three and a warning to the cat kid, leaving me to babysit his cat, Mr. Scruffy, until the end of the day when his mother can pick it up. It’s just before lunch and I’m drinking my coffee as this black-and-white ball of fluff glares at me from the windowsill. I’m half tempted to open the window and let the damn thing escape.
Rana, my receptionist, lets me know my afternoon meeting is here. It’s with the mother of a child who has been sick and missed a few months of class. The kid is better now, but it’s a question of whether she can catch up on what she missed out on.
Conveniently, the teacher of the student is Kelly.
Opening my door, I usher the girl, her mom, and Kelly into my office. They sit down, the mother throwing me an odd look when she sees Mr. Scruffy.
“A student thought it would be fun to hide the cat in his schoolbag,” I explain, my voice dry.
