Page 22 of One More Chapter
Penelope
Bees?
Anthony
Bees
You know me too well
Why are you up?
Penelope
Had middle of the night inspiration for a chapter and needed to write it *right now*
I’ve been up since like 2
Anthony
Good for you!
Penelope
It’ll be bad for me when this starts happening during the week. I *hate* when I’m in the middle of a draft during the school year. It really screws with my sleep schedule.
Anthony
A thought!
Quit teaching and write full-time
Penelope
Mmm, that’s a discussion for another time.
So, you’re taking me on a pizza date, huh?
nine
anthony
Sometimes,rolling up right on time is a blessing. Sometimes it’s a curse. In my case, today, it seems like both.
Ever since Penelope oh so politely asked me to get a quieter alarm, I’ve been having to rely on my Apple Watch. Let me tell you, they really need to up the vibrate on those things.
Because of that, I stride into the cafeteria of River Valley Middle School—my home for the next year—at exactly seven-fifty-nine, to complete and utter chaos on my first day of in-service. The curse is that I have no idea what’s going on. The blessing? It only takes a minute for the crotchety old guy at the podium to silence everyone, call us all to order, and explain.
“Alright, alright! Everybody settle down so we can clear things up and get this over with.”
“Well,he’spleasant,” I snort. I plop into an open seat at the round cafeteria table hosting the few people I can spot that I know.
Working at Meadow Ridge for the last two years gained me exactly one friend. His name was Gerald, and he retired last year. The rest of my team was full of cliquey teachers who formed a bond working together over the last decade, and also never grew accustomed for my penchant of actually discipliningstudents and following through on consequences—even if it meant taking away from my own prep period. They always told me I was “doing too much.” Well,excuse mefor doing my job.
And besides. It’s definitely not the first time I’ve ever been told that I’mtoo much. Tell me something I don’t know.
“He needs a juice box and a nap,” Aaron Russo, the gym teacher, says.
“More like a Xanax and a sabbatical,” Sam Ford, the seventh grade science teacher chimes in.