39. Penelope
thirty-nine
penelope
“You have got to be kidding me.”
I wonder if Amanda White knows that she might make more friends if she ever had a positive thing to say?
Anthony and Nathan are fielding a wide array of emotions at our monthly staff meeting. My heart sinks to my stomach when his face falls, all of the confidence that he’d entered with about the behavior program sliding off his shoulders.
“You’re telling me that, on top of all of my lesson planning, grading, and dealing with the bullshit of the day to day, I’m supposed to stop and log all of the behaviors? When am I supposed to find the time?” another disgruntled senior staff member calls from the back.
“I’ve been doing it since September. On top of most of our lesson planning and grading. It takes less than five minutes,” Sam digs in, crossing his arms. I see Ant’s color climb a little higher with support from his friend.
“What if I just don’t ?” comes from a Meadow Ridge teacher.
Ant swallows, and his gaze ticks over to mine. I lift my brows and toss him a small smile and thumbs up from the edge of the table, and he nods.
“We’re riding on a double-edged sword here, folks. If you take a few minutes to document behaviors that are concerning or repetitive, the right people will be able to manage them. If you choose not to, the behaviors will continue, and when you come down to the office asking for help from myself or Anthony, we’re going to ask you where you documented the behaviors, and what you’ve been doing in the meantime to support the student. We can’t help you if you don’t know how often, when, where, et cetera these behaviors are occurring.”
Chaos erupts. Small groups of people are shaking their heads and whispering—some, on the other hand, are very loudly voicing their displeasure. But also? A lot of people are in support of Ant, Nathan, and Lucy. A lot .
“We’ve needed something like this for years,” Hank says, leaning over to me.
“Folks,” Nathan says, his voice able to amplify when necessary. The room begins to settle down. “I appreciate your questioning. No new program is without its kinks. I will stick around as late as you’d like to field questions, so that the team can address any and all issues. However, one main point of contention is that this is happening, like it or not. We’ve also been told that it will be rolling out district wide, so Meadow Ridge staff, this is your opportunity to be leaders when you’re back in your own building next year. If you have no further questions, you are dismissed.”
As always at the end of a staff meeting, the regulars dash right out the door, some people linger with their grade levels or drift over to their friends, and the complainers—Amanda at the front of the line—dash to talk to Nathan. Talk at him might be more appropriate. I shoot Claire a text that she should have her man’s favorite take-out ready for him tonight. She texts back, I’ll fire up the grilled cheese .
I get lost in that text for a moment in time. It’s the thought of Anthony coming home from a long day at work, knowing his comfort food and show, and having it ready for him like he did for me when I hurt my wrist. He knew to go straight for the Cheetos without us so much as having a civil conversation, but I feel like I’ve simply been taking from Ant.
Taking his time and his comfort and the nice words he says and the nice things he does without any reciprocation.
“What day are you free next, Pen?” Juliet asks, snapping me from my downward spiral. I blink and shake my head.
“Sorry, what?”
“We want to do a girls’ night before winter break and Lucy and Aaron’s wedding madness. I don’t want time to keep slipping away from us.”
I feel that deep down to my core.
Juliet and Sam could be pregnant soon, Lucy is getting married, Claire and Nathan live together, and while these are the happiest days of our lives, I’m so glad they’re making sure our friendship is a priority.
We set a date during break, looping in our long lost friend Claire who is buried in textbooks, and start to head out. I pause when I see Ant and Nathan still neck deep in a line of people questioning their authority.
“You guys go. I’m gonna make sure they’re okay.”
Juliet and Lucy head out together, while Sam and Aaron grab a table to talk about the upcoming baseball season. Reluctantly, I sneak up toward the front of the line, and my heart drops.
All I have to hear is, “…think he is anyway, coming in from another building with no admin experience, telling me I’ve gotta start…” and my heart wants to do . For Anthony. Right here isn’t the place—not when there are four people behind Joe Petersen with equally brutal looks on their faces, ready to question Nate and Ant. But I can be there for him when he gets home.
He catches my eye on my way out. My smile, that’s meant to be a life preserver, barely keeps him above the deep end.
Even still, I get a text an hour later saying, Probably won’t make it home for dinner. Headed to the gym . Like even in the fog of that afternoon meeting, he’s still making sure I’m okay. Making sure, after what happened one time with a dinner I didn’t even warn him about beforehand, that I’m in the loop. It’s only one of the reasons I make a pit stop on my way home.
He comes in late, well after the sun has gone down. Sweat makes a Rorschach picture on his back, and the bags beneath his eyes could carry luggage to Europe for a two-week vacation. And even still, he manages a smile.
“I got Bill’s,” I sputter out. “Pizza. I figured you’d be hungry?”
Why the hell am I so nervous? I’m tripping over my words like my shoelaces are untied when I realize I’ve never done this before—held onto someone long enough to comfort them. It’s awkward and jilted because I never saw what being taken care of looked like until my friends rolled into my life and had my back, and that was only recently. God, I hope I’m doing this right.
Even around the weight of the day, his heavy lids lift in gratitude before his eyes flutter closed, landing on a gracious smile.
“Is it chicken fajita?”
“Sure is. I didn’t even lick it this time.”
He chuckles, then practically falls into a seat opposite me at the kitchen table and devours two slices before saying a word.
“You have no idea how much this just turned my day around.”
He shakes his head.
“It’s just pizza,” I deflect. Still being new to this whole idea of comforting others, I cross my arms over my chest at the strange feeling of being needed.
“It’s not.” Ant shakes his head again and peeks up at me through his tired eyes. His lips part like he’s going to say more, but a moment later, they close, like the effort is too much today. I hope I’ll get a rain check on whatever it was that he kept inside.
“For what it’s worth, I’m so proud of you and this whole program. I’m sorry it can’t be immediate smooth sailing, but once you get through the rough patch, this is going to be amazing, Anthony.”
Something inside me echoes when I say those words, like I’m talking about his new program, but I’m talking about us, too. We started out on rocky shores, but are we over our rough patch?
“Thank you.”
It comes out like he’s talking around a ball of emotion that’s stuck in his throat, and I have to swallow against one of my own.
“Hey, what’s your favorite food?”
He huffs a laugh.
“Like, right now, or normally?”
I scrunch my face in confusion, and he smiles like the last few hours of the day didn’t even happen.
“My current hyper-fixation food is those little Nerds cluster balls. But that can change at any given time. Last week, I ate like, four containers of strawberries in the span of twenty-four hours. But my safe snacks? Pizza rolls and cheese balls. Could live off of them. Probably did at several different points during college.”
I shake my head and smile, mentally adding both to my shopping list.
When he comes into his room after showering, he doesn’t even ask why I’m in his bed. In fact, when he settles into the pillows, weaves his arm beneath my back, and curls himself around me, I swear I feel the tension in him melt through to the floor.