Chapter 12 The New TA #2
I turn around to find Taylor putting a giant box of chocolates on the table for shareable goods.
She says, to nobody in particular, “My baby sent me these to share, he knows how important it is for me to make a good impression. I’ll tell him I enjoyed a couple bites, but I need to keep it tight for his enjoyment.
” A manicured hand runs down the side of her, admittedly tight, figure.
“Dig in, ladies, and gentlemen.” Of course, the last bit is said in a low throaty voice towards the men in the room. Then she sashays out.
“She’s kinda gross.” Sonya says it quietly, out of the blue, while her eyes remain on the table of our male counterparts, and Vicky and I burst out laughing.
“I think we’ll keep you,” Vicky gasps, still laughing.
Sonya gives us a shy smile, and I have to agree with Vicky.
Teaching has always been my happy place, but lately the drama is not originating with the teens and tweens, and that is not a comfortable environment for anyone to work in.
Allies are a must. This poison Taylor spreads needs to stop, and I’m in the process of finding a way to flush our halls of it.
I just wish I had recognized that same poison present in my own relationship sooner.
“Hey, wanna meet us at Joe’s this evening for a drink, burgers, and some gossip?” Vicky asks Sonya.
“You absolutely should. Vicky is the best gossip, and it’s Women’s Wednesday. Half price.” I smile and nudge Sonya, adding some peer pressure.
“I guess I can do that.” She’s still looking at the other table, but when I look to see who she might be looking at, none of them are looking back over at us.
“Perfect! We’re inviting another of my friends to meet us there.” I’m excited to see where this friendship can go.
The bell rings and we all groan. We love our jobs, but it’s still a job.
“Here we go again.” Mutters Sonya under her breath.
I laugh again. Yeah, I think I’ll keep her.
?????
“Ms Harrison, could you pass out the copies—”
“Oh, shoot I forgot to tell you that there was an issue with the printer. I didn’t get to them.
My bad.” Taylor says from her desk, without looking up from her phone.
She remains in the far back corner of my room, and despite my warning her about the school policy on flowers due to allergy concerns, another bouquet sits there front and center.
As if hearing me, she reaches out to straighten the most recent arrangement.
I watch as a student rolls their eyes at her action. Cheese and rice this woman.
Now that the handout is unavailable because of incompetence, I mentally flip through my catalog of options when Ned raises his hand.
“I’ll go get it Ms. Duchamp. I know how to follow the error messages on the printers no problem.
” A few snickers follow his statement, but I just hold out my ID so he can take care of it.
“Isn’t this the sixth or seventh time you’ve handed a student your ID today, Duchamp?” An obviously concerned eighth grade student asks. Completely innocently setting off their favorite litany this year.
“Six seven”
“Six seeeven”
“Six seveeeen,” echoes around my final English class of the day.
“Very funny, Bradley. You eight with that one.” Groans and chuckles follow that pun.
Mental high five.
“While we wait —“ I begin, and shockingly, get interrupted.
“Six or seven minutes.” Calls Sophia, ever helpful.
“Six—”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn.
“—seven.”
“Travis, is that six or seven minutes off your free time?”
“Ohhhhh,” echoes the class.
“No Ms. D.”
“Okay, awesome. Does anyone else want six or seven minutes off their free time?”
Crickets. “Fabulous. As I was saying, I want you to read pages,” I look again and cringe. Of course, “twenty-six and twenty-seven silently to yourselves.”
A few more groans, but I hear the dutiful opening of books and turning of pages as the students get settled in to follow instructions.
Then, a record scratch. “You’re not funny, you know,” a voice calls across the class, and I freeze. She must be out of her mother-flippin mind.
All movement in the classroom stops, so I make a decision to smile and lean into it because I know something she doesn’t. “Oh, I know I’m not. That’s half the fun.”
The class erupts.
“Don’t you let her say that Ms. Duchamp. Jealousy is not a cute aesthetic, and she wears it like a coat.”
“Don’t worry, Duchamp, she’s just mad that her hair and desperation are both punchlines.”
“If you pour water on her, maybe she’ll just disappear.”
“It’s not that serious Harrry-son. Chill out.”
“It’s okay Duchamp, Ms. Terri taught us that nature makes venomous things red. Harrison is just following nature’s laws.” Oh, I liked that one.
I let this go on while I remain straightfaced, acting busy until her face turns as red as her hair, and sending a discreet email to Vicky Terri in the meantime. It doesn’t come as a surprise when none other than our science teacher appears at the door.
“Ms. Terri!” The kids sheath their sharp words like swords when their favorite teacher arrives. I’m not even jealous. She’s amazing.
“Hey guys!” She greets them, eyes sparkling, “I just need to borrow your TA for the rest of class.”
Someone shouts, “Thank God.” I pretend to not recognize his voice.
While our resident TA gathers her things with a glare, Ned returns with the copies.
Somehow, I’m able to get the kids back on track once the witch is gone with some generic, “be kind” and “funny isn’t always nice” statements to try and prevent complete anarchy in future incidents before the final bell of the day rings.
This entire week of school has been like this. I had to tell my vice-principal about the disruptive nature of her comments on day one. He told me to document it and went chasing after another runaway kindergarten student. So, I’ve been documenting.
I know it’s frowned upon to let thirteen and fourteen year olds fight your battle, but I hear her say such horrible things about these kids constantly.
I know at least one student caught her vitriol face first. I immediately walked them to the school counselor and encouraged them to tell her and their parents.
I also documented that incident.
Other teachers are noticing the same thing, and under my direction, have also kept evidence. We’d take it to Ronnie, but she’s on her vacation for the next few weeks.
We also have to contend with Jill. Who, by the way, got in my face for not sending Taylor straight to her on Taylor’s first day, and that I always hog the help.
I didn’t even bother correcting her. Even with video evidence, there is no way she’d take back her words or apologize.
I’m thinking there is something in the bloodline.
I look at today’s to-do list and sigh. I really screwed up by allowing my pride to get in the way of my choices when I talked to the boss. I thought I’d just be dodging dumb looks, but here’s Tay-Tay to prove me wrong about another life choice.
I pick up my phone and call Lenny so I can talk to her rather than to myself as I wander around the classroom and get a bunch of work done.
It rings once, then she answers. “Hello?”
“When did everything get like this?”
“Hello, Becky? What? Like what?” Lenny interrupts like a rude ass.
“Shh, I’m talking. Like, I was in a solid work environment with coworkers I enjoyed, and in a loving and happy relationship moving towards marriage.
Now, I’m slugging my way through Taylor’s vapid poison, and going home to an empty house.
” I think for a second. “Except for my dogs. Who Paige is going to let out, because I’m staying late.
Again.” At least they’re amazing, and they’re at home.
“I just…I miss my British murder show with tea and snuggles.”
But then, I think of my summer, and I remember how gut wrenching and painful it was.
I think that a little loneliness beats lies, deceit, and betrayal any day of the week.
Besides, I won’t be alone tonight. And honestly, a girls’ night full of snacks and trash talk sounds a hell of a lot better than waiting around for someone who doesn’t want to come home.
“Where are you right now? Don’t you have a special night planned or something?”
“I have a few struggling students, and with my useless TA, I’m putting extra time in after school making sure they’re getting what they need to be successful.”
“Gaw, I’m going to kill, or maim her.” Lenny woke up and chose violence today, unsurprisingly.
“The inaction against Taylor is really starting to piss me off. Especially because it’s impacting the students.
” I lean over and grab the third broken pencil piece off the ground.
“When I said I could handle having her in my classroom, I had no idea what I was agreeing to. Catty, territorial, bitchy, whatever, I have dealt with worse. But once she put the kids’ wellbeing in jeopardy, I started smashing my head against a wall. ”
Not literally…yet.
“Meanwhile, I practically have a manifesto ready to get her the fuck out of here. I really need a meeting with the principal and some solid proof and backup.” I go to Taylor’s desk and my hand twitches, wanting to grab the newest damn flowers and throw them the fu—dge away.
“Unfortunately, most of my documentation is suspect.”
Taylor’s desk is out of view of the door, and although she is a lazy ass with all of the other teachers, I’m the only one she’s downright disrespectful to.
With her phone usage and so many of her lesser qualities not witnessed by anyone other than the students and me, it’s largely a matter of her word versus mine.
“I am at a stupid impasse. Because despite my years teaching, and despite working my ass off, I am still in the part of my teaching contract where they can simply not renew it. Without warning and without cause. I’ll look like a jealous ex if I say anything about the clearly targeted behavior.
” The only option I have now is to document everything and vent to Lenny, Paige, Vicky, and now, maybe Sonya too.
I finish resetting the classroom then head back to my own desk to finish my lessons.
At some point, my sister ends our call with a promise to bother me for updates.
I agree, half listening, as I print my worksheets for the following day, complete the necessary prep for the activities planned, and head home.
My house comes into view, and my tired eyes notice something is different, but I can’t focus beyond recognizing that truth.
The yard is still a yard. The steps are still steps, and yep, there are still dogs here.
I greet the pups and head to the bathroom to take a quick shower, listen to some music, and, shit.
I run back into the kitchen and grab a glass of wine.
Perfect. This should help me get prepped for a night at Joe’s.