Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Dex
“You’ve got this, Kroft!”
I shout this up to Sayla, even though I’m not sure she does got this.
She’d been handling the ropes all right until she reached the most challenging section of the course.
Now she’s frozen thirty feet off the ground.
And since I finished a while ago, there’s not much I can do from below except be supportive with my words.
“I shouldn’t have eaten three whole pancakes and bacon!” she shouts back at me.
“Should I remind you of that at lunch?”
“Do it and die!” she screeches.
“Fair enough!”
We’re having tacos, which a person should never have to count. And no matter what’s being served, I’d never police how much a woman eats.
I glance at Bob and Hildy. “This is us cooperating,” I chuckle before returning my focus to Sayla. “Want me to come back up there and finish the course with you?” I call out.
“NO!” She lurches forward, scrambling toward the platform like the ropes behind her are on fire. I guess all the motivation she needed was me offering to help. That’s how much the woman wants to be independent.
Still, I’m glad Bob and Hildy got to witness me cheering her on.
After all, earning a glowing report from them is one of my main goals here at the retreat.
But separate from that, I hated seeing Sayla trembling up there.
So my sigh of relief when she’s finally back on solid ground is almost as big as hers.
After everyone’s done with the ropes, we break into teams for a scavenger hunt.
Bob and Hildy put Sayla and me in the same group, which I figure is a good chance for us to prove we can work well together.
And when they send Tori and Hogan to a different group, a not-so-secret part of me does an internal happy dance.
But as soon as we’re turned loose, though, everyone in our group immediately splits up, and we spend the next hour alone racing around the campsite, searching for stuff on the hunt list.
Teamwork, but not together.
The items are both indoor and outdoor. Things like a pine cone, a pair of reading glasses, a bird feather, a rubber band. When we’ve finished collecting everything, we meet by the fire pit to double-check our list.
Sayla volunteers to race our group’s checked-off list to Hildy, even though she’s not so much a runner.
But there’s no better role for the queen of lists.
So she sprints over to Hildy, pushing her hair off her brow, wiping away the sweat.
They confer for a moment, then Sayla turns and catches me staring.
“We came in second,” she calls out to us before jogging back to the group. When she reaches the fire pit, she bends over, catching her breath.
“Second place is great,” I say.
“I hate losing,” she gasps.
Yeah, Kroft. I know.
The day shifts in her favor when we move over to the obstacle course, where Sayla is a rockstar on the balance beams. She skims across half a dozen in one shot with barely a wobble.
Tori and Caroline also kill it on the beams. Overall, the women are a sight to see, all grace and body control.
Meanwhile, the men fall off a lot. And by that, I mean I fall off a lot.
Still, I get to root everyone else on, and Bob and Hildy get to see more evidence of how cooperative I can be. I’m an encourager. A real team player.
But also, I just like watching Sayla shine.
After lunch, we head over to the main lodge to meet with Bob and Hildy. Sayla shows up with her clipboard, and I show up with a bellyful of tacos, plus a whole lot of gratitude for not having to do nature painting.
And that’s when Fern joins us.
We sit in a circle on the mats, and for the first ten minutes, she has the five of us stretching and breathing into our feet again. When she finally asks us to sit up, legs crossed, we’re all silent, looking around at each other for what feels like an eternity.
Finally, Fern addresses Sayla and me. “So Bob and Hildy explained why you’ve been sent here,” she says. “You’ve got an important project to work on, yes?”
I nod. “An accreditation committee is coming to evaluate our school,” I say. “And one of the crucial things they’re looking for is evidence of our collaborative spirit.” I put those last two words in air quotes.
Fern’s mouth curves up. “And your principal’s counting on you two to lead the collaboration?”
“Choosing us makes sense,” Sayla chimes in.
“Dex and I are the directors of the two biggest departments on campus. Plus, we’re class advisors to the seniors and sophomores.
And we were on the team that wrote the report for the accreditation committee.
Dex was actually in charge of the team. And he’s our faculty president. ”
“You’ve both taken on a lot,” Fern says.
“And our boss is worried we won’t be able to work well together during the visitation,” I say. “He thinks we might be a little spotlight hungry.”
“He’s not wrong.” Sayla clears her throat. “We have a history of competing.”
“Well, she competes,” I say.
“And he wins.” She puts the last two words in air quotes.
Heh.
“I see.” Fern presses a hand to her chest. “Well, I’m very pleased to be here today to facilitate your journey back to one-ness.”
One-ness?
When were Sayla and I ever one? Did I miss that day of school? I steal a glance at her, and she’s nodding. I wish I knew if she’s into this stuff, or if she thinks it’s a crock.
“I want you both to close your eyes now and think about why you’re here,” Fern says. “Not just at this retreat, but on this planet. In this universe.”
Oh, man.
Crock.
But I squeeze my eyes shut, because I’m a good sport and a team player.
“This is a retreat for professional development,” Fern goes on.
“So presumably, you want to improve your work performance. The first step is to silently contemplate what you already love about your current position. Why is the role you play vital to the success of your school? You can’t prove your worth to anyone else until you believe it yourself,” she says.
“So in a moment, I’ll give you a chance to explain to us why what you do is important. ”
Ummm, all right. This I can do. I’ve got no trouble talking about the value of athletics in kids’ lives. We’re quiet for another minute or so. I’ve got my eyes closed and my legs crossed. Feeling a little awkward.
Then Fern asks us to open our eyes.
“Now tell us, Sayla. What have you been thinking? Why is what you do at Stony Peak High School important?”
Sayla takes a deep breath, blows it out, and I’m kind of relieved I don’t have to go first. “As humans,” she says, “when we see a sad scene in a play, or listen to a sad song, or watch a sad movie, we get the chance to work out how we’d cope with that moment in our own lives.
Then afterward, we have the relief of knowing the pain was fictional.
We’re safe after all. On the flip side, a comedy makes us laugh out loud and forget the pain for a moment.
” A smile tugs at her lips. “And love stories … well, those let us hope for happily ever afters.” She pauses to swallow.
“I think a hero overcoming obstacles helps us strive for more. And all this makes the performing arts kind of … magical.”
“Wow,” Bob exclaims. “I never thought of it that way.”
Yeah, me either.
“So as a teacher in the arts,” Sayla goes on, “I help my students explore both the tragedy and the comedy in life. Theater. Choir. Band. Orchestra. These kids wear their hearts on their sleeves and put themselves out there for the pure joy of it. And there’s a home for everyone.
We’re a safe space. A family. Not to mention, kids who wouldn’t necessarily win scholarships for their academics or athletics can sometimes get them in the arts.
” She darts her eyes to me. “But that’s a whole other subject,” she says. “And I’m going on too long.”
Fern lets Sayla’s speech hover for a moment, and my chest constricts. I can’t compete with that. Don’t get me wrong. I know firsthand how important sports can be, I’m just not that good at putting things into words. And I’m afraid my emotions might betray me if I get that deep. Maybe I should—
“Dexter,” Fern says, jarring me back to the circle. “What do you think about what your colleague just shared?”
“Uhhh.” I blink. Gulp. “I thought I was supposed to talk about my job now.”
“We’ll get to that,” she says. “But first, I’d like to give you a moment to respond to Sayla. If you have any thoughts for her. If not, that’s fine too.”
“I mean, I think Ms. Kroft is an excellent teacher,” I say, directing my comment at Fern.
“And I know she cares about her kids a lot. Her students, I mean. She puts her whole heart into her classes, and the plays she directs are really impressive. But she doesn’t just want the drama kids to succeed.
She advocates for the whole department. The whole school.
She teaches English too. I respect that.
And a lot of what she just said I’d never considered before. ”
Beside me, Sayla draws in a breath, but I avoid making eye contact. I meant everything I said, but that doesn’t change the fact that the athletic department needs the FRIG. Whether or not performing arts deserves it, too.
So I’m not sure how to reconcile those two realities.
“Thank you for that,” Fern says. “I’m sure Sayla was delighted to hear such kind words about her.”
“Thanks, Dex,” Sayla says.
“Well, it’s true,” I grunt.
“Would you like to tell us about your position now?” Fern asks.
“Yeah.” My chest goes even tighter. A part of me can’t wait to defend my department, and I’ve got a lot to say.
But at the same time, I don’t feel right trying to beat Sayla here.
All along, I’ve been telling myself she’s the one coming for me.
But it’s in my nature to want to be the best. And I’m working alongside a woman who’s after the same thing.
Wilford had a point. We’ve both been trying to be superstars.
Not partners.