“Sure,” Jamie said, easy, holding their attention in the palm of his hand. “What do you think prepared me best?”
“Weight room,” one of the football players said.
“Track,” the cross country guy piped up.
“Basketball,” Grace said suddenly. “Teamwork. You need teamwork. Aren’t they called SEAL teams?”
“They are. That’s the second-most important thing I learned,” he said, giving her a smile. “What’s first?”
Silence.
“Mrs. Fagles.”
“Mrs. Fagles?” someone repeated from behind Charlie. “The algebra teacher?”
“Mrs. Fagles. After we’re done here, I’m going to track her down and tell her thank you. Once I got through BUD/S, which is the basic underwater demolition SEAL training, I had to get through SQT, SEAL Qualification Training. To get through that I had to pass tests. Dive physics, which involves college level math and algebra. Land navigation calculations. Demolition calculations. You know in the movies how they slap some C4 up on a door, run a wire to it, and boom?”
Laughter. Everyone knew what he was talking about.
“Without demolition calculations, you might have no boom, which is bad when you’ve got targets hard on your heels. Or you might get too big a boom and you destroy your target or innocent civilians, or your team. I know guys who failed a math test and spent a year in the regular fleet before coming back and trying again. And they didn’t spend that year concentrating only on conditioning. They also spent it studying math.”
Charlie could hear the wheels turning in the room.
“It’s true for all roles in the military. I can’t afford to just be a big, tough badass, although you can be sure I strive for it. I have to be smart, in so many ways, every single day. When you join, every other man and woman in the service is counting on you, as are all the civilians you protect and defend. There’s no room for swagger. The SEALs call themselves the quiet professionals for a reason.” He looked around. “That’s all I’ve got. Questions?”
Charlie heard the rustle of clothing as hands shot into the air, Bryce’s straight up from his shoulder. He was sitting upright now, feet under his knees, unconsciously adjusting his body language to give him the best chance of attracting Jamie’s attention. Charlie caught Principal Belmeister’s eye and smiled.
*
When the assembly ended, Jamie had a small squadron of enthralled teens escorting him to the Math block where Mrs. Fagles still reigned as the department chair. Charlie had the next period free so she hung around in the gym, making herself available to her players. She remembered all too well the days when a smile or a “hi” or a pat on the shoulder from her coach was the only positive adult attention she’d get, how she turned to it like a flower to the sun. East High’s student body hadn’t changed much in the last ten years. Seventy percent qualified for free lunches, and a significant portion came from single-parent homes, where adults worked odd hours and could be so swamped with the details of keeping the lights on and food on the table that “quality time” with kids just didn’t happen.
She reminded Grace to sign up for summer school to work on her math, and told her she’d given her a good reference for the summer job at the zoo. She got an update from Emilia on her father’s immigration status. She checked in with Mandy and Brooke, both of whom had been caught ditching school, to make sure there was a good reason for it—work to help pay the bills, a sick brother or sister who needed care—then put the fear of suspension in them and got assurances they’d be in class, and studying when they weren’t. She walked with Lyssa, her star center, six foot three, a work ethic like nobody’s business, back to the Science block. The girl rarely said anything in class or practice, but Charlie could always count on Lyssa being at her elbow, absorbing God only knew what.
“Want to talk?” she asked. Just in case. She never knew when one of the girls would say yes, spill something that broke her heart and made it abundantly clear why she’d come home, why she was never leaving again.
Lyssa shook her head, gave her a small smile, the equivalent of exuberant jumping up and down from Grace or Emilia, then tipped her head toward Charlie’s office. A pair of sand-colored boots and camo-clad knees protruded into the open sliding door. These days it could be a student wearing Cat boots and army surplus pants, but she knew, she just knew, it wasn’t.
“See you later,” Charlie said quietly, giving her a pat on the shoulder. Lyssa settled into one of the tables in the Science block’s common room and opened her history book. Charlie walked into her office, a narrow slot at the back of the common room, and found Jamie sitting in the chair beside her desk.