Rock Bottom Girl(128)

“Your office is dingy and creepy. I’m wondering if we can find a few hundred dollars in the budget for some paint and new furniture,” she mused, eyeing my dungeon-like abode.

She’d fix it up for the permanent gym teacher. Oh, God. What if she was smart and beautiful and a long-distance runner? Jake would fall hard, and they’d get married, and he’d be having Christmas brunch with her. I hated the new pretend gym teacher. Hated her with the passion of a thousand suns.

“I hope you’re feeling better,” Principal Eccles said as I trudged into the office and dropped down onto a folding chair. “I heard you caught a cold after the game Friday.”

More like a cloud of depression.

“Much better,” I lied and pretended to cough.

She interlaced her fingers on my desk. “Good. Now, for the fun part. What are your plans for next year?”

I blinked. “Next year?”

“January.”

“I’m interviewing for other jobs,” I said hesitantly.

“Have you considered staying on here?”

Was I aurally hallucinating? Maybe she’d actually asked me if I’d considered joining a traveling circus or caring for our basketball donkeys.

“Staying here?” I croaked.

“Becoming a permanent member of the faculty,” she explained. “You’ve done more here in a semester than most teachers have done in their entire career. Students are raving about gym class for the first time since parachute day in elementary school.”

“I’m flattered, but—”

“And I don’t even need to tell you what a wonderful job you’ve done with the girls team. I’ve never seen a team turn around so quickly. I think next year will be even better,” Principal Eccles continued.

She had it wrong. I’d lost. I’d trampled my players’ spirit. I was no better than Steffi Lynn Hitler. I just came in a different package. “Thank you,” I said flatly. “But I don’t have a teaching license.”

“You could get one. I looked into it. You’d have to pass the Praxis,” she explained. “But there are ways to teach without having a teaching degree. The point is, you’re an excellent fit. And I would be thrilled to recommend to the board that we make your position permanent.”

I had a job interview on Wednesday. My next chance at a new start. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t stay me.

“Principal Eccles, I’m flattered. Really. But I think you can find a candidate better suited to the position. Someone with experience.”

Someone who won’t ruin everything.

The principal blinked rapidly as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard me correctly. “I assumed you’d be interested in the position.”

“It’s a great job,” I told her weakly, not wanting to disappoint yet another person. Though I couldn’t understand why she’d still want me on the faculty. I’d been in her office more times than the worst troublemakers. I’d had more complaints against me than any other teacher. And I’d single-handedly crushed the spirit of an entire team. “It’s just not something I see myself doing. I’m sure there are other candidates that would do a better job than I would.”

Principal Eccles sighed. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I’ve been very happy with the way you’ve done your job, and I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just gave her a weak smile.

She pushed away from my desk and stood. “You’d tell me if Amie Jo chased you off, wouldn’t you?”

The woman was dead serious, but I laughed. “I promise.” For once, Amie Jo had nothing to do with this decision.

She sighed again and nodded. “Well, I’ll wish you good luck in your future endeavors then.”

She left the locker room, leaving behind a whiff of her disappointment.

I flopped down behind my desk and dropped my head to the desktop. Bitterly disappointed. Depressed. Hot mess. I ran through all the terms that could describe my current emotional state. My desk phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it. It was just someone who wanted something from me. But it was the last day of school before Thanksgiving break. I could muster the energy to be kicked in the teeth a few more times today.

“Marley, how are you feeling today?” Andrea’s voice was full of sympathy on the other end.

“Terrible. Awful. Like a big, dumb loser.”

“I had a feeling,” she said.

At least Andrea wasn’t trying to silver-lining everything. At least you made it to districts. At least you had a winning season. At least Jake thought he loved you. She knew I had something to be upset over.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“Your feelings are valid,” she said skirting the line of answer and non-answer.

“I feel like this loss is the big neon sign I was waiting for from the universe to tell me that I’m not in the right place. I let a lot of people down, and now it’s time for me to move on.”

“What about Jake?” she asked. I could hear her clicking a pen. Open. Closed. Open. Closed. It was her nervous tell. She was about to blow.

“Jake and I have come to an agreement that we will be better off apart,” I said evasively.