“Hey, Sammy,” I greet the principal’s receptionist as soon as I walk through the door; her head flies up, causing her unruly hair to fall in front of her face.
“Hi, Fawn.” She smiles, blowing her hair out of her eyes and looking completely rattled—then again, she always looks rattled.
“Is Mrs. Thompson available?”
“Yep, go on in.” She nods toward the door behind her with a smile, and I head across the office and open the door, finding Mrs. Thompson sitting behind her computer, looking as polished as ever in a dusty-blue suit with her dark hair pinned back away from her very pretty face.
“Hi, Miss Reed, how can I help you?” She smiles at me as I move into the room and take a seat across from her.
“I’m a little worried,” I admit, setting my bags on the ground next to my chair.
“Worried?” she asks, sitting back and resting her hands in her lap as she studies me.
“Yes, Tamara Albergastey hasn’t seemed like herself in class the last few days.”
“What do you mean?” she asks quietly.
“It may be nothing, but she hasn’t been participating in class like she normally does, and she’s seemed really withdrawn.” I rub my hands together, wishing I had something more to go on. “I asked her after class if she wanted to talk and if she was okay, but she said she was fine.”
“Oh dear.” She sits forward, resting her hands on her desk. “Have there been any changes at home that you are aware of?”
“Her mom has a new boyfriend and I don’t think they get along, but I don’t know that for sure.”
“Hmm.” She smiles a soft, sad smile knowing Tamara’s mother’s history better than I do, since she’s been one of her students for the last few years.
“I understand how difficult this situation is, but unfortunately there is nothing we can do about the men Tamara’s mother chooses to spend her time with.”
“I know,” I agree quietly.
“I will see if I can find out what’s going on, but in the meantime, keep your chin up. Your students adore you, and Tamara is likely to speak to you about what’s happening before anyone else.”
“Thank you.”
Studying me for a long moment, the principal’s eyes search mine, and her face softens. “You’re a great teacher, Fawn, and I know these kids mean a lot to you. It shows in your work and their grades. We’re lucky to have you here in this school, but those kids are also very lucky to have someone who cares about them and their futures. Please know that Tamara’s situation is one that you do not have a lot of control over, regardless of how badly you wish differently.”
“I know, I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“I know you do,” she says gently, moving her eyes past my shoulder briefly. “I wish more teachers cared as much as you do. I know what it’s like to see the potential in a child and want more for them. When I first started teaching, I had a student named Michel who was my favorite kid. He was good at everything but especially good in science, which was also my favorite subject to teach. I wanted him to get into a few different after-school science programs, but his family couldn’t afford for him to stay after school. He was the oldest and the one responsible for making sure his younger siblings made it home and had dinner. I hated that he had to make that sacrifice, but eventually I found a weekend science program for him to be a part of, so in the end everyone was happy.”
“That’s amazing.”
“No, what’s amazing is that he shared his love of science with his siblings and now they are all in college—and all of them are doing something in the field of science.” Sheesh. I pull in a breath and hold it to fight back the tears. “Keep doing what you’re doing, not only with Tamara but with all of your students.”
“I will.” I nod, picking up my bags and coat from the floor. “Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome, and you know my door is always open.”
“I do,” I agree. When I was interviewing for teaching positions, Mrs. Thompson was the reason I wanted to work at PS 189. From the very moment I met her, I could tell she cared deeply about the students—she wasn’t jaded like some of the other principals I interviewed with. She didn’t just see her job as a job, she saw it as a way to make a difference in the world, which is the exact reason I wanted to be a teacher.
Shutting her office door, I say a quiet goodbye to Sammy as I pass her desk, seeing her nose buried in a folder she’s looking through.
“You, too, Fawn,” she mumbles back absently. Slipping on my coat, I button it up, then put on my hat and gloves before leaving the office, placing one earbud in so I can listen to my newest audiobook. Walking out of the school, I head up the block for the subway, where I fight for a place to stand on the train during the rush-hour commute. I don’t want to go home, but I still need to pick up Muffin so I can take her with me to my sisters’. My sisters think my apartment is being fumigated, which is why I need to stay with them. Yes, I lied to them, but there is no way in hell I could tell them the truth—that I’m hiding from Levi because like the idiot I am, I kissed him and made a fool out of myself.
As the train comes to a stop, I get off with the crowd, then make my way up the steps with everyone else to street level, where the air is at least twenty degrees cooler. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I tuck my hands into my coat pockets and walk with my head down to ward off the cold that’s nipping my cheeks. I growl under my breath as I watch a single snowflake fall onto the sleeve of my coat and melt. I hate when it snows in New York. I hate trudging through the slush and ice on the way to work. I know a lot of people love snow, and I agree it’s pretty to look at when it first falls, but after a couple of days on New York City sidewalks, it’s a disgusting mess.
Reaching my block, I breathe a sigh of relief when I don’t see Levi—not that I thought he would be waiting for me, but with the way my luck has been going lately, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I ran into him. Yes, I know eventually I will have to face him, since moving is about as realistic an option as teaching abroad, but truthfully, I’m hoping if I avoid him long enough he’ll forget I even exist.