Chapter 12 The New TA
THE NEW TA
BECKY
The rest of the weekend passed by in a blur.
I was glad Carter and I had that talk—so much of what I was clueless about came to light.
I know there is so much more to what happened, like when it all turned physical, but I still feel raw from the emotional overload, and that’s just not my priority right now.
I choose to squash down my pain and keep on moving along. I have work to do.
I spend Monday morning getting my room and planning closer and closer to being ready for the rugrats, who are arriving in no-time-thirty.
By now, I only have some busy work left that I’ve always asked the Teacher Assistants to help with in the past: labeling, printing, making copies.
Today is my TA’s first day, so I brought in a treat and a packet like I always do with a new TA, IA, or basically any help I’m lucky enough to get in the general classroom.
Now I’m waiting for her to arrive. She’s late…by an hour. Car trouble I’m sure.
At that thought, in glides none other than Jill Farris, our head secretary. She’s worked here through five administrators, and babysat the current superintendent when he was in diapers. Nobody sane messes with Jill.
“Oh, hey Jill, how’s the peacock?” Anybody who owns a peacock should expect this question.
“Fine. Where’s my niece?” She bites out. I hesitate because I have no idea. She misreads my hesitation and rolls her eyes.
“Oh please, we all know you know who she is. Taylor Harrison?”
“I haven’t seen her yet. Did you check science with Vicky?” Witch.
“No. I assumed you were hogging her. Send her my way when you see her. I need her first.” She huffs, then leaves.
God bless America with that one.
I haven’t moved from the kidney table where I’m cutting out some names for the bulletin board when the clicking of heels grabs my attention. I look up to see…a face covered by flowers.
They’re slowly, carefully lowered to the table, directly in front of me, and directly on what I’m working on. Shockingly, Taylor appears from behind them; her lovely face wearing an ugly expression.
I paste on a smile. “Wow, those are lovely. Are they yours?” Dumb question, but what the fork is she doing?
“Oh,” Taylor says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you back there. I’m just admiring my flowers from my special someone. Do you want to read the card? It’s so sweet.”
I grit my teeth because I have a single guess who she’s talking about. Sure enough, she shoves the card into my face.
Tay, here are some gorgeous flowers for a gorgeous woman on her first day of work. I know you’ll be amazing. I can’t wait to celebrate with you in person. Yours, Carter
I am immediately suspicious because that sounds nothing like Carter, but I also can’t be positive, and that just sucks.
I got a good look at the deleted messages between Carter and Tay ;), who now, too late, is back to Taylor in his phone.
I didn’t see much other than what you’d expect from exactly what Carter told me was happening.
Pick up, drop off, money owed, some advice and concern sprinkled in daily, and a lot of her trying to blur the lines and him ignoring it.
It was better than him encouraging and reciprocating, but ignoring it obviously did not make the problem go away.
Then there were the five phone calls he made, and countless phone calls she made after that night. It all fits his narrative, but that’s all I have to work with. His narrative, and now this bullcrap.
It’s not like I can call her out for lying, even if she was. I’m a professional. I love teaching, and I will not let this two-bit piece of conniving witch let me go against my principles.
Instead, I smile and say, “That’s lovely. I’m sure you two deserve each other.”
Her smile freezes, and she gives me a look that I ignore.
Instead, I reach around the flowers and grab the box of treats and the packet I made for her first day.
“I also got you something special for your first day. I have a little jar of homemade apple butter made by our—my neighbors, and a couple of my sister’s famous chocolate chip cookies, and—“
“I’ll have to pass.” She says it succinctly and gives me a full-body look over. “I’d like to keep my figure appealing, even when I get old.”
“You’re right. It would be a shame if you lost it, you’d have nothing left to offer.” I respond to her before I can stop myself. Oops.
Her eyes meet mine again, her fire to my ice.
Then she takes a step closer, her perfume cloying and so not appropriate for all of the allergies in the classroom.
“Listen, you round little bitch. My aunt is basically an institution in this school and in this town. My grandparents practically helped build it. You? From what I hear, you’re a sad little transplant with no roots.
” She leans in even closer—gag —that smell.
“My man told me about how he’s basically the only person you used to have in this town.
How sad for you. Especially considering how easily I took him.
” A sickly sweet smile steals over her face.
That stings and knocks me down a peg. I fight to keep my shoulders back and my head up. I’m aware Carter has begged for me to understand she meant nothing to him, and I believe he does love me. However, he gave a part of himself to this snake, and nothing he says or I do can change that fact.
Sadly, she’s not done spouting off.
“You can have him back when I’m done with him.
Unless he chooses to follow me because,” she looks me up and down and scoffs, “please.” Then she rips her flowers from the table.
The violence of the move leads to a few petals falling to the table in front of me.
She’s in the back of the classroom by the time the final delicate petal lands on my cookie offering. .
Taylor sets her stuff on a counter in the back and looks around the room. She takes in the location of her desk, in the middle of the room and near the door, rolls her eyes, and heads right back out of the classroom.
I wait to see if she’s coming back, and when a minute goes by with nothing, I return to cutting and prepping the student names. I don’t have help, but at least this time, I have chocolate chip cookies. Her loss.
Twenty minutes pass by when an unfortunately familiar click of heels make their way to my classroom once again.
A flawless, manicured nail points to the far corner of my room, and I watch in awe as the computer lab teacher, Mr. Dawson, and the third grade teacher, Mr. Craig, follow Taylor’s instructions and move her desk to the back of my classroom without even looking my way.
Taylor coos at them, pretending to try and be quiet and discreet. “Thank you so much, gentlemen. I just knew when I saw you two in the hallway you’d understand my issue.” She throws a look my way, and they follow suit. “I just want to be as comfortable as I can in a possibly hostile environment.”
Wow. She is something special. The men I’ve worked with for years nod at her in mute understanding. Boob. Blind. Fu— fudgers. And here I thought we had some mutual respect. Ugh, Men.
Once they leave, still without even acknowledging me, she puts her flowers dead center on her desk, grabs her bag, and as she’s walking out the door I shout after her. “Your aunt wants your help!” The door clicks shut behind her.
I walk over to the new location of her desk and drop her packet of information. Then I go back over to the door and prop it back open.
Pride be damned, err darned, I should have swapped.
?????
2 weeks later
“He is very reserved, even compared to last year, and he’s making me a bit nervous with how withdrawn he is.” Vicky says to me in a low voice.
I’m sitting at lunch with her, again. We’re both worried about the same student.
“Well, we know that his parents are separated, and he stays with his dad during the week. His dad is extremely strict and very intimidating,” she continues.
“Are you talking about Joey?” A voice asks from the table beside ours. “I also have his sister, Eliza.“ I look to see the voice coming from the new art teacher, Sonya Hall.
I scoot my seat over and tell her to grab a chair.
“Yeah, they’re having a rough start. I’ve tried talking to his dad, but he’s a tough nut to crack. Just grunts over the phone with a yes ma'am, before hanging up.” Sonya continues, trying to impersonate his gruff voice, but she just sounds adorable.
“He was at the open house last week,” I provide. “Real big guy, hard to miss.”
“Oh yeah! Really big guy? Dark hair, real dangerous looking?” At my nod, Sonya sighs. “He just gave me a wide berth and didn’t engage.” I swear I hear a quiet “again,” but it’s hard to tell over the murmur of other teachers and staff in the room.
“Yeah, that’s Billy Saul. He’s the owner of Billy’s Auto Services.” I inform her. “He’s really not a bad guy, and he loves his kids to pieces. He’s just…not a people person.”
She looks skeptical, but nods her head.
“How’s that poopy yard of yours, by the way? You haven’t complained about it in weeks.” Vicky changes the subject, knowing the shop talk gets me itchy.
“Oh, well….” Huh. “I haven't, have I?”
Vicky smiles at me, “You haven’t complained about any of your house stuff recently. And, no offense, but you like, always have something to complain about.”
“Oh my God, Vicky, you’re rotten. I do not do that.” I definitely do.
Vicky rolls her eyes and then they catch on something over my shoulder. “Shit, incoming.” She doesn’t mind cussing in school, but she also has tenure. It would take an act of congress or murder to get her out of the job.