37. Chapter 37
Chapter thirty-seven
B rooks and I return home from KC right in time for my weekly video chat with Lana and Amaya.
“Boy, do I have a lot to fill you in on,” I declare as soon as we’re all present on the screen.
I launch into a long monologue about everything that transpired over the past week, hardly pausing to take a breath.
“Okay, wow,” Amaya responds when I finally finish.
“Well, that was a lot,” Lana says. “And you’re feeling . . . how, now?”
“I think I’m feeling okay. Objectively speaking, Sonya really was nice. Like, really kind. I can see why my dad likes her. She’s actually a couple of years older than him, so it’s not some weird situation where he’s dating someone half his age in some sort of midlife crisis.”
I pause to gather my thoughts. “And from my mom’s perspective, she’s happy for them. She’s completely moved on in life, so all of my delusions about them getting back together someday were very much only my delusions. Still, that didn’t make it not hard to see my dad with a woman other than my mom. But having Brooks and Logan there with me this weekend kept me grounded in the moment,” I answer.
Amaya snorts. “More like prevented you from running away.”
I can’t help but smile. “Not entirely inaccurate.”
“Can we please pause to recognize the fact that you very nearly ended things with Brooks when you got scared, so you can stop giving me so much grief about temporarily breaking up with Mateo?” Lana huffs.
“She listened to his voice of reason a lot more quickly than you did, though, Lana,” Amaya teases. “A certain someone stubbornly took multiple weeks—and multiple people—challenging her to think differently before she made amends.”
Lana rolls her eyes, and I burst out laughing. I reassure her. “Okay, okay, I’ll commiserate a little bit, Beef. I do understand the knee-jerk reaction.”
“Thank you,” she says, fighting a smile.
“Oh, and P.S., I’m officially leaving Arrow staff and getting my teaching license next year,” I say as an afterthought.
“You are?!” Lana exclaims as Amaya yelps, “What?!”
“May as well just get all the big life developments out there,” I say. “But you’re the first two to know. I haven’t told anyone else yet.”
They both hum with understanding. “Keep us posted on how that goes. You know we’re in your corner, ’kay?” Lana affirms.
You can do it, Teegan. You have so many people behind you. You’re not facing the scary things alone. Stop avoiding.
“I’ve decided I’m not coming back to Arrow staff next year,” I say.
My knee is bouncing manically under the table as Kent and Rachel sit across from me. I asked them to meet me before staff meeting, and thankfully a neighbor was able to watch the twins so they could both be present. I downed half of my latte from Raelynn’s in thirty seconds. My esophagus might have second-degree burns, but my bloodstream was fully caffeinated and sugared before making this declaration.
Their expressions are a mix of shock and sadness. As tempted as I am to mentally fly away from their reactions, I take a deep breath and brace myself to face their response.
“What are you going to do next?” Rachel asks. Her eyes look sad, but her voice sounds genuinely interested.
“I’m going to get my teaching license and apply for special education positions,” I say, forcing confidence into my answer. Because I feel entirely confident about this decision—just terrified to speak it out loud to the people sitting in front of me.
“You’re going to be an amazing teacher,” Rachel responds, eyes soft .
“I . . . I am?” I ask, caught off guard by her affirmation.
Rachel gives a small laugh. “Of course you are!”
“You’ll be incredible at anything you decide to do,” Kent adds. “And anyone who has any involvement in your life will be blessed for it.”
I sit in stunned silence, which is far from my usual self, at least in their experience.
Kent speaks again. “Don’t misunderstand us—we’re sad to have you leave staff because you’re a joy to work with. You’ve made all of us better the past few years, and the impact you’ve had on students could never be measured.”
“Yes, of course, we’re devastated that you won’t be back next year,” Rachel jumps back in. “To be totally honest, I’ll probably go home and cry this afternoon. But that’s only because we love you, Teegan. We’ve loved having you here, and we’ll miss you so much. But I trust your discernment to follow where God is leading you. Even if that’s away from here.”
“So, you’re not disappointed in me for pursuing something different?” I timidly ask.
“Goodness, no!” Rachel exclaims. “We know you’re going to change lives for the better regardless of your vocation. And we’ll be cheering you on, but please keep in touch, okay?”
I blow out a long, relieved breath. “You guys are the best. Thanks for being supportive and for inviting me on staff in the first place. I’ve learned so much from you over the years. Not to mention, I’ve personally grown in ways I never would have otherwise.”
“Do you want to tell the rest of the staff team today, or would you like to wait a while?” Kent asks.
“Let’s rip the Band-Aid off,” I reply, and we all laugh. It feels good to laugh when I came into this conversation prepared to . . . well, not laugh.
Gina, Lucas, and Connor are equally as supportive and sentimental when I share my plans at staff meeting. I know that telling all the students in my small groups will be more difficult conversations, but the reassuring responses thus far are boosting my confidence.
“So, who’s going to plan social events and After Parties now?” Connor asks .
Gina and Lucas simultaneously yell, “Not it!”
They point to Connor, who groans dramatically.
After my Bible study with the AOPis that night, I drive to Brooks’ apartment. I didn’t tell the girls about my looming departure because I’ve had enough Band-Aid ripping pain for one day.
It’s time for a little balm.
I knock firmly on the door, but there’s no answer. Glancing down in the parking lot, I see Brooks’ car, so he must be here—unless someone picked him up to go somewhere. Even though it’s 9:00 p.m., that seems a little early for him to be in bed.
Knock knock
Seconds later, I hear footsteps inside, and the door opens. It’s casual, tousled Brooks answering, and I resist the urge to immediately kiss him.
“Sorry, I had ear buds in while I was grading tests. Helps me stay in the zone,” he says. Brooks does not resist the urge to immediately kiss me, pulling me to him.
I’m milliseconds away from losing myself in his lips and forgetting my whole purpose for coming. I abruptly jerk away, earning a disappointed whine from Brooks.
“Wait, I came here because I need your help with something,” I say with a laugh. He motions me inside and closes the door behind me. I hold up my diploma and add, “I brought this.”
Brooks quirks an eyebrow. “Okay? Did you think I didn’t believe that you legitimately graduated from Townsend?”
“I brought it in case I need it to apply for my teaching license,” I explain with a smirk.
He stills at my words. “You decided? For sure?”
I nod, and Brooks picks me up to twirl me around. “Sneaks, this is incredible. You’re going to be incredible. I mean, I know you already were incredible on staff here. And I still would have been excited for you if you had decided that’s where you were still supposed to be. But, you know, this is also incredible.”
After laughing at his overuse of the word “incredible,” I bite my lip to make myself be serious again. “For the record, I’m not deciding this because of you. Well, seeing your passion for your students and being reminded of the impact educators have on kids was a factor. But I’m not choosing this because you want to go back to KCMO someday. After all the praying and thinking and working through that guided journal, the tug toward teaching feels so strong that I know it has to be where God is leading me. And I’m excited to pursue it.”
Throughout my speech, Brooks’ smile has slowly grown. He’s still grinning when his lips meet mine again, but the playfulness quickly vanishes. I break apart and push against his chest, his back hitting the wall. Holding up my diploma again, I say, “Stop distracting me with your lips and help me start this application.”
Brooks chuckles and takes my hand to pull me over to the kitchen table. “Okay, but you’re not going to need your physical diploma for that. We’ll need to order a digital copy of your transcripts.”
As he waits for the laptop to power on, he asks, “So, have you told your Arrow leaders about your decision?”
I nod. “I told them over coffee this morning. And the rest of the staff at our meeting.”
Brooks whistles. “Wow, less than twenty-four hours after returning from facing your dad, and you’re plowing right through another difficult conversation. I’m impressed.”
I know he’s not being facetious because he, of all people, understands how truly monumental it is for me to tackle these conversations. How much easier it would be to keep avoiding, keep escaping by any means possible.
Brooks looks up from the laptop to meet my eyes when I reach over to lace my fingers through his.
“Us against the pain, right?” I murmur.
He pulls my hand up to meet his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles, never breaking eye contact. Brooks leans forward to rest his forehead against mine, then whispers a kiss on my cheek.
“Us. Everything. Always.”