I chose to ignore his mocking tone and instead smiled as if he’d just said the nicest thing ever. Something like: Audrey, you’re my hero. There’s no one smarter or cooler than you.
“Thank you.”
“How long did this take you?”
“I bought most everything.”
With that lie, I toed my trashcan further underneath my desk so he couldn’t see the empty glue sticks wrapper proclaiming, Now with 200 sticks! Then I tucked my hand behind my back to hide the Band-Aid I was wearing on my right thumb. Cricut injury.
“Is that a papier-maché replica of the Eiffel Tower?”
“Oh…yeah. You can find anything on Amazon these days.”
The Eiffel Tower took me a whole week. It fills an entire corner of the classroom. Children can sit underneath it and read on soft pillows and blankets.
What do other people do on their summer breaks?
Now, Principal O’Malley walks into the conference room with a cup of gas station coffee and a rattling key ring. He’s dressed in a faded gray suit and a patterned tie from the ’90s. He’s short and squat with a tire protruding from around his middle. The few wisps of hair left on the top of his head are desperately holding on for dear life.
When he calls an all-staff meeting, we know to buckle up for a long ride.
Like a drunk uncle given free rein of a mic at a wedding, Principal O’Malley knows how to fill time. He has the uncanny ability to stretch a brief announcement into an hour-long rambling speech.
I zone out for a minute when we’re discussing the efficiency of the lunch lines and find myself tuning in again to an entirely different topic.
“As you all go about your day, I want you to try to embody the acronym TEACHER. Terrific. Energetic. Awesome. Cheerful. Enthusiastic—”
“You missed H,” someone calls out.
Principal O’Malley stops and starts to backtrack, ticking off the letters on his meaty fingers.
Oh dear god…
“Doesn’t H stand for hardworking?” someone else asks.
“I thought it was helpful,” Noah chimes in, knowing exactly what he’s doing.
For ten minutes, the meeting gets derailed as Principal O’Malley takes a vote on whether we think H should stand for Helpful or Hardworking.
The tally comes out to an even split, and Vice Principal Trammell—the real brains behind the operation around here—steps in and politely suggests we move on to the next topic on the agenda.
“Ah yes.” Principal O’Malley clears his throat and affects a whole new solemn tone when he continues. “I have some horrible news to report. Our beloved Mrs. Mann was in a motorcycle accident yesterday.”
There’s a collective gasp from around the room, and then everyone wants details.
“Omg!”
“Poor Mrs. Mann!”
“She was struck by a motorcycle?!”
“She was riding on one,” Principal O’Malley clarifies.
Not possible.
Mrs. Mann is a sixty-year-old social studies teacher who weighs eighty pounds soaking wet. Her wardrobe is purchased from an Amish catalog. She shouts at students for running through the hallways yet chides them for being late. She once scolded me for not having better posture.
“She’s in a motorcycle club for ladies over sixty. Vests, patches—you name it. Anyway, yesterday, she had a little run-in with an ice cream truck and broke her wrist. Expecting a full recovery, but that means there’s been a shake-up with the Rome trip this summer.”
Every year Mrs. Mann and her husband—a history professor at the local college—voluntarily take a group of ten middle school students to Italy for a three-week study abroad program, and every year I think, Better them than me. Who in their right mind would volunteer to use part of their summer break chaperoning thirteen-year-olds in a foreign country?
“The students have already been selected for this summer’s trip, and you’ve probably seen them around the school, working hard to earn their fundraising dollars.” He claps his belly. “They got me one too many times with the chocolate bars, but I tell you what…they don’t call them World’s Finest Chocolate for nothing. I just can’t resist ’em.”
Having realized it might be best if she takes over, Vice Principal Trammell steps up, smiling politely. Without her, this place would unravel.
“We’re looking for two teacher volunteers to take the place of Mrs. Mann and her husband for the trip, which will span three weeks in July. Are there any takers?”
Crickets.