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Dance was my world for the first seventeen years of my life. Now it’s just a part of it. And as I stare up at the school welcome sign, a nauseating nostalgia washes over me.
On second thought, I don’t know if I can do this. Fight-or-flight is setting in. The need to run back to the safety of my car is real.
I close my eyes and give myself a second to take a deep breath. You can do this, Cassandra. It might not have been your dream, but it’s a decent back-up plan. My mother’s encouraging words from this morning play back through my head. She’s my number-one cheerleader. I’m lucky someone is, I guess. Without her encouragement, who knows where I might be right now?
My eyes pop open, and I take in the sign again.Okay. I'm okay. I can do this. I pull my shoulders back and hold my head up high, like I'm being pulled by a string at the top of my head. A ballerina never loses her excellent posture, and when I'm like this, I can take on the world. I’m back, baby, ready to teach the next generation of little dancers. And hopefully sort out the shitstorm that has become my life in the process. This is going to be my year. I can do this.
I hustle my way through the practically empty buildings, not wanting to take in any details too closely. I need to just get straight to the physical education department staff room.
I go to knock on the door, feeling more than a little awkward to be a teacher and not a student, but I’m stopped by a small brunette running toward me with open arms. “She’s back!” she calls, throwing her arms around me in a tight, energetic hug. I embrace her awkwardly, not normally one for showing too much affection.
“I am,” I say with a laugh, trying to ease my discomfort. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Rinnai.”
Scarlet Rinnai was my school dance teacher when I attended high school here. She's the one I’m going to need to learn the whole curriculum from and how to teach in a school environment. I have been teaching classes at the dance academy here in Palm Springs since I was sixteen and attending classes there since I was four, so the dance side should come easily, but the rest feels a little more complicated.
I couldn’t be more pleased to be working alongside her, and when she found out I was becoming a teacher, she was thrilled. I think she saw it as some sort of compliment, not just as my last resort when the plan I had fell apart and I had no idea what else to do. There are only so many audition tapes you can send out before you lose all hope. And my confidence was already so low that the likelihood of me actually landing a half-decent job was zilch.
But my mother knew. She enrolled me in education classes at Palm Desert Campus so I was within driving distance to home and she and my dad could keep a close eye on the train wreak that was their daughter. She had every faith that with my extensive knowledge of dance and my two years’ teaching experience that I would make an excellent high school educator. I, on the other hand, wasn't so convinced, but I was also out of options and needed some direction, so I went along with it for her.
My sweet, caring mother was also the one who had been chatting to the administration staff here and came home all excited one day, telling me there was the perfect job for me. I guess I was lucky about one thing, and that was that I had Scarlet conducting my interview. I knew from the moment I walked in the room that I had the job. She didn’t stop smiling the entire time and kept telling me how excited she was to have a real dancer on board. It was very flattering, but unfortunately for me, not at all true. I would have been a real dancer if I ended up training properly in New York like I had always dreamed of. But as it stands, I failed at that all-important audition. I guess the universe has some sort of a sick sense of humor when it comes to me, and life had other plans.
“None of that Ms. Rinnai stuff. It’s just Scarlet. Now you’re one of us, love.” She beams, her entire face lighting up. She is such an attractive woman. Probably in her mid-thirties, with chestnut-brown hair that she wears in a high ponytail, and a compact little body from all the dancing she does to keep up with her students.
I offer her a smile, matching her enthusiasm; it’s contagious around this woman. Hopefully, some of her positivity will wear off on me, cause I need it. “Of course, Scarlet. That’s going to take a while to get used to.” I giggle.
She wraps an arm around me, directing me. “Come on, lovely, let’s get you set up at your desk, then I’ll take you down to the dance space so you can check out our facilities, they’re impressive.”
“Thank you.” She leads me to a corner desk at the back of the staff room. It’s a simple wood desk with a stack of empty shelves off to one side. I guess it will do, as I don't plan on spending much time sitting at it.
“As yours is a new position, there will probably be some teething issues, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it, and I will be here whenever you need. Palm Springs High has expanded its dance program a lot in the last few years, as we’ve taken on competitive dance and cheer. I have coordinated the programs myself, along with our headmaster, Jerry, and he would like that to be your primary job here. Making sure our standards in dance are exceptional is a real priority for him."
I nod along with her. "I can do that." I’m super competitive by nature and focusing my attention on my students’ success will be a pleasant distraction from my own life.
"Oh, I know you can. It's not within my particular morals to be all about the trophies, I would prefer the students to just go out there and have fun, but it's very important to Jerry. He cares about this place so much and just wants his school to be the best, you know."
"No pressure then." I laugh.
"None at all." She laughs back. "But we have every faith that you can achieve greatness."
I place my bag and water bottle at my desk and take a look around the room. The school itself is aging, but this staff room appears to have had a bit of a refresh over the summer break. The smell of fresh paint still lingers in the air, the walls a warm white, and the charcoal carpet looks like it's never been walked on before today. There are three desks in this space, then a room at the back. On the closed door, there is a name plate that reads Coach.
I feel so strange knowing this is my first real job, maybe even a little excited now that I'm here. I mean, I’ve been teaching at my old dance studio for years, but this feels so adult, and all of a sudden, I can really see it. Like something has just clicked into place. Maybe my mom was right after all. I feel like I’m supposed to be here doing this. Even though things in my life didn’t turn out the way I wanted, something about this all just feels right, and that thought alone is helping the stomach-churning settle.
“Come on, let’s do the tour before we have our staff meeting with the rest of the teaching staff. I want to show you all the exciting new facilities we have, and of course the trophy room, before you're overwhelmed with new faces and names.”
She moves quickly with such a buzz of energy, and I almost have to run to keep up with her pace. My heels click on the linoleum as I hurry along. The halls are lined with student lockers, yellow to the right and gray on the left. I smile to myself, thinking back on all the good times I had here. I was a fairly good student, not top of my classes, but I always did what I was told, got my work done, and I had a lot of friends, especially in my final year when things got a little messy and I stopped caring about life in general. Then it was all about parties and who was hooking up with who.
I realize Scarlet has been chatting away, and I have blocked out her words, stuck in my own head. I try to tune in to her and listen, something about new health programs we will be implementing this year. I nod and smile with interest, when I notice two men walking toward us. They’re tall, nice-looking sporty types, and my interest is piqued.
I start to smile in the flirtatious way I have perfected, then stop. My brain connecting with my eyes, who I’m actually seeing. I have to do a double take, not really believing it. My heart races, and that damn pain is back. It’s him, alright, in the flesh for the second time today. It’s his eyes I notice first, that distinctive piercing hazel color staring straight at me, and my heart goes nuts in my chest with panic. What the actual hell is he doing at Palm Springs High?
Not now, not here. Not when this is my second chance to do things right.
“Brandon, Miles,” Scarlet calls to the men in greeting as we scurry past. They say hi, and Miles offers me a smile, his face warm and inviting. He looks like a lot of fun, but it’s Brandon my attention is stuck on. “The other two members of our department,” she tells me. “The tall one on the right is Brandon Lewis, our new football coach, fresh from playing in the NFL himself, and the blond is Miles Hanson, assistance coach and Health teacher.”
“He’s Palm Springs’ new football coach,” I mutter almost to myself, swallowing the lump in my throat. I'm suddenly sweaty all over. I can’t believe it’s him. After what happened between us all those years ago. I haven’t seen him since the night my sister Jasmine found us together. And I had hoped I would never have to again after how he left.
“You probably know his name if you watch football at all. He played for the Chicago Bears, then more recently the Chargers, and he's new here, just like you. And he’s sure got his work cut out for him. Coach Johnson had been here for about ten years too long and was forced into retirement at the end of last season after yet another doozy of a year. They didn't get a win in. Not a single one. That's why we're all so excited to have Coach Lewis on board. He's sure to step up to the challenge after playing professionally for the last five years.” She smiles sweetly at me, her eyes twinkling like she is trying to encourage me to feel just as elated about this as she is.
