Big Chicas Don't Cry(11)

People often asked me if I felt strange teaching in the same classroom where I had once been a first grader too. If anything, I felt more comfortable there than I did anywhere else. My teacher back then had been Sister Sheila. She was Irish and had the prettiest skin and kindest green eyes. Back in those days, most of the nuns and priests at St. Christopher’s had come from Ireland—a fact that made a seven-year-old me believe the country must have been a very holy place indeed.

So much so, I had once asked Sister Sheila if I could still be a nun even though I was Mexican. That had made her green eyes sparkle.

“Of course you can, my child. God doesn’t care what country you’re from or whether your skin is white, brown, black, or green. He calls people to serve based only on what’s inside their heart.”

That’s when I decided that I wanted to be a nun and a teacher. Years later I learned Sister Sheila had left the convent, moved to Idaho, and married a dentist. I don’t think that in itself changed my mind, but by the time I started college, whatever call I thought I’d received to become a nun had disappeared. But I had still wanted to teach.

“Gracie! Gracie!”

Instinctively, I took a deep breath and turned toward the voice. “Hello, Sister Catherine. Merry Christmas.”

Sister Catherine was the principal of St. Christopher’s. If her five-foot-ten-inch frame wasn’t intimidating enough, her loud and stern tone could make even the most seasoned teacher quake in her sensible shoes.

She offered me a curt nod before responding. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Gracie. I wanted to let you know that we were able to hire a substitute PE teacher a few days ago.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said with a careful smile.

“Yes, it is. He’s also going to coach our basketball teams. Which brings me to the reason why I came over here. You’re going to need to use your classroom for the after-school homework-help sessions. The small multipurpose room by the basketball courts is going to become the new coach’s office.”

My heart dropped. “But, but, the older kids don’t fit into the first graders’ desks. That’s why we moved into the multipurpose room in the first place.”

“I know, dear. But that’s not an option anymore, as I just explained. You’ll just have to get some folding chairs from the auditorium. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must go talk to the Dennisons.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath as she walked away.

Selena moved to stand next to me. “If she had been my principal back then, I probably would’ve been expelled in the fourth grade.”

“You and me both. Well, okay, maybe just you. I can’t believe she’s making me move out of that multipurpose room. Do you know it wouldn’t even be a multipurpose room in the first place if I hadn’t spent the summer cleaning it out, painting the walls, and asking the PTA for money to buy bookcases and tables? It’s not fair.”

I hated that I was whining like a little girl. I also hated that I hadn’t stood up for myself—and my students.

Selena shook her head. “Seriously, Gracie, if I had to work with that woman, I’d find a new career. I don’t know how . . . or why you do it.”

I shrugged and tried to calm down, especially since I didn’t want to make a scene. There were too many parents from the school still milling about. The gossip patrol would have a field day.

But Selena wasn’t done. “Why don’t you go find another job that will pay you what you deserve? That way you can finally move out and get your own place.”

“I swear, as soon as I can afford it I’m gonna move out like you, Selena,” Rachel suddenly chimed in from out of nowhere. “I’m gonna buy a condo, too, just like you.”

Rachel adored Selena. They shared the same taste in music, clothes, and apparently condo ownership. As for me? Well, we didn’t exactly share makeup tips.

“You know, Rachel, before you can buy that condo, you’ll have to graduate college and get a good job. But first, you have to finish high school,” I told her. She rolled her eyes like she always did when I brought up school. She wasn’t the best student, and her grades were starting to reflect it.

“Yes, I know. You’ve only told me that about a million times. I’m going to go wait by the car,” Rachel said.

I must have made a face because Selena put her arm around me. “Don’t take it personally. She’s fourteen. Remember fourteen? Adults were the enemy.” She laughed.

“She doesn’t treat you like the enemy.”

“That’s because I buy her stuff, and you nag her like Mom,” Selena explained.

I almost argued about her characterization, but then let it go. Rachel was the least of my worries. Moving out of the multipurpose room was not something I was looking forward to doing once I got back from the break.

Why couldn’t the new PE teacher set up a desk somewhere else? I knew for a fact that there was an empty storage room in the auditorium that could be turned into a perfectly good office. Why did it seem like I was always the one who had to compromise or give up something?

Guilt snaked itself around my heart.

I sighed and closed my eyes.

Dear God, I know I’m being selfish. Please grant me the patience to deal with this change. And I swear to you that I will go out of my way to welcome this new teacher with open arms.