The exhaustion stalks me into the next morning, when I find myself more irritable than usual about my abbreviated evening with Danny. We’d eaten tacos and started a Netflix movie, but we both fell asleep before ten without having much time to talk.
“You need a double dose this morning?” Marge asks. I’m standing at the coffee machine idly deciding what I should add to my drink. If only adrenaline came in little packets.
“I had game duty last night,” I say. “I’m wiped.”
“So, you got to see the big comeback, huh?” she asks, playfully bumping me out of her way so she can fill her cup.
“I didn’t stay,” I say, guiltily. Marge lives for school events and, although she’s not vocal about it, she doesn’t understand why the rest of the staff isn’t more involved. “When I left, a comeback didn’t seem possible.”
“It was all over social media last night,” she said. She flipped her hand in the air. “Sorry, I forget you don’t do that.”
I’ve never had an online account. Social media was just starting to get popular around the time Brian did what he did. In those days, all I wanted to do was disappear. I didn’t want to be found, by anyone. More than a decade later, I feel the same way.
“We can’t all be hip like you, Marge,” I joke. She laughs, because she more than makes up for my lack of interaction. She’s always posting and retweeting, then sharing the good parts with me in person.
“Well, it was a big deal,” she says, taking a seat in the nearby chair and emphasizing her words with hand gestures. “I couldn’t make it because I was hosting an Honors Club function, but my feed was blowing up with videos.”
“That’s exciting,” I say, partially wishing I’d stuck around to watch. I love a good comeback. “What turned things around?”
“Coach Gabe let the new girl participate. She helped the team win several categories. She even beat Darcy Moore’s season record.”
“Zoey Peterson?” I ask, even though I’ve already been told she’s the only new student on file.
“Yeah. You have her in class?” she asks. I nod. “I have Zoey in fourth block. She’s a colorful character. Of course, I had no idea she was such an athlete. An absolute star.”
“Huh,” I say, stirring my coffee. “That’s got to be a great welcome for your first week of school.”
“Seriously. She’s bright, too. She outscored everyone on yesterday’s chemistry test.”
“She’s only been in class three days,” I say, as though Marge is forgetting.
“I know. I’m telling you; this girl is special.” She sips her coffee and smiles. Marge’s tests are notoriously hard. I’ll catch students stealing the last ten minutes of my class to quiz each other before one of her exams. I can’t believe Zoey has already outperformed her peers.
“What about her behavior?” I ask. I’ve had a strange feeling about Zoey since she arrived, but evidently Coach Gabe and now Marge haven’t picked up on it. “Don’t you think she’s a little smug?”
“I’m not sure smug is the right word,” Marge starts, but is interrupted by the first bell. She throws up her hands and rolls her eyes. “I guess there’s work to be done.”
Given Zoey’s newfound celebrity, I’m surprised she doesn’t arrive to first block. Of course, given how much her family moves around, it wouldn’t be surprising if poor attendance becomes habitual.
I log into my school account to post the day’s attendance electronically. Normally, if a student is absent for a medical or school-related incident, the system alerts me. I plug in the missing students for the day and notice three letters by Zoey’s name: OSS. Out of School Suspension.
Uh oh, I think, almost feeling sorry for the kid. She went from a moody first day, to a team hero, and now she’s being punished. For what? OSS is usually reserved for serious offences. I keep my ears open during class. There’s plenty of chatter, but nothing pertaining to Zoey or someone being punished. Instead, everyone’s buzzing about the Spring Fling dance scheduled for Saturday night. Darcy and Devon share pictures of their desired hairstyles. The students in my other classes act similarly. They’re focused on Spring Fling and not much else. I wait until fourth block and visit Pam in her office. If something has happened at school, she’ll know about it.
“Are you chaperoning the dance this weekend?” Pam asks when I walk through her office door.
“I am,” I say, taking a seat.
“I’ll see you there. Any other plans this weekend?” She smiles. It’s hard to imagine a more perfect job for her. She immediately makes a person want to share their feelings. Students love her, too. They’re so comfortable with her they address her by her first name.
“We have a few tasks around the house we’ve been meaning to complete. We’re redoing our guest bedroom.”
When we bought the house two years ago, it needed updating. Since then, we’ve been tackling the place one room at a time. Soon, the guest room, and the whole house, will be complete.
“You live a charmed life, you know,” Pam says. She looks to her left, at a picture of her twin second graders. “We are going to the mall and buying new equipment for baseball season. I know I should be used to it by now, but it really sucks having to get two of everything.”
I can’t imagine how chaotic life with twins must be. I can’t even swallow having one. Any desire to have children vanished after surviving my childhood with Brian.
“I’ve come to gossip,” I say, lowering my voice. “I noticed Zoey Peterson
