39. Eleanor
Eleanor
Iset my bag on my desk with a bone-weary sigh.
Today is the first day since starting at Wetherly that I didn’t want to come to work. I didn’t want to crawl out from under the cocoon of my comforter, didn’t want to face what happened last night.
We were caught.
Part of me is shocked it didn’t happen sooner, given how reckless we’ve been. But mostly, I’m devastated. Especially with the way Theo looked at me. The way he told me we had to be careful.
That we went home to separate beds.
I try to recall his words exactly, but it’s such a blur. The adrenaline that flooded my system when I saw Jake step out from the darkness made me shake so hard I could barely think. Theo said something about going to the board, but what was it?
I wander absently through my class, taking the chairs off the desks as if this were any other morning.
But it’s not.
Everything changed last night, and though I’d felt it in the air, known it was coming for weeks, I’m not ready. I’m not ready to face whatever is going to happen.
My morning ritual of writing the date and quote of the day on the board does nothing to soothe me.
Thoughts swirl through my head about what’s going to come today, if the faculty will whisper, if Theo will avoid me, if I’ll be fired.
If my students have heard about what happened, and what they’ll think of me.
Worse, if their trust in me is broken, if they’ll feel unsafe in my class.
If I’ve ruined everything by falling in love.
When I can’t put it off any longer, I drag myself up to the morning faculty meeting, stomach in sick knots.
The conference room is full as I slip inside, loitering near the door.
I half expect everyone to gasp and look my way, to point and stare, but they don’t.
Marlene passes me on her way in, smiling.
“Great work last night, Nora. You really impressed the board.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, knowing they won’t be nearly as impressed if Jake has spoken to them.
Despite myself, my gaze searches for Theo above the din of chatter and the scent of stale coffee. He’s at the far end as usual, hands clasped in front of him on the table, unsmiling, but he’s not tense, not scowling. In fact, he seems unusually calm.
Look at me, I plead silently, and his gaze flicks my way, almost as if he hears. His lips don’t move, but a tiny, tired smile creases his eyes, before he glances away. It should be reassuring, but it’s not.
“Morning,” Danny says as he enters the room. He approaches the head of the table, but his stride is missing its usual pep. In fact, he looks tired too. “Alright,” he murmurs as the faculty settles. “First up, last night was a huge success.”
There’s a smattering of applause and a few eyes swing my way. I tense, waiting for whispers, for the low hum of gossip and judgment, but everyone seems to be smiling and positive.
“We raised over a hundred thousand dollars,” Danny continues, flipping his clipboard. “Truly a testament to… uh, a lot of hard work.” His gaze is glued to his notes, refusing to meet mine. Or, from what I can tell, Headmaster Wright’s.
In fact, this would be the perfect moment for Theo to stand up and say something about last night, especially given how effusive he was on stage, but he’s silent, fiddling with a pen.
Fiddling. Theo. I’ve never seen the man do that as long as I’ve known him.
“So,” Danny continues, “let’s all take a moment to celebrate the fundraiser’s success.” He tucks his clipboard under one arm to clap, but it rings hollow. His words may be positive, but his tone is off, his body language wrong. Every word feels tight. Forced.
I glance at Theo again, but he’s gazing out the window, eyes distant, like he’s not really here at all. It unsettles me greatly as Danny runs through a handful of other announcements, then half-heartedly dismisses the staff.
I hover near the doorway as people file past, wanting to steal a moment with Theo, then I catch myself. He asked me to give him space, and as much as it pains me, I need to do that. The bell trills outside, and I turn to go, but Danny calls out to me.
“Nora?”
I hesitate, then cross the room to him, gaze straying to Theo as he leaves, still lost in thought. When I glance back at Danny, he shifts his weight.
“Can you stick around for a moment, please?” he asks.
My pulse spikes at the request. At the way he won’t quite look at me.
“Uh, sure,” I mumble, watching as the last of the faculty trickles out of the room. “What’s up?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just goes to the door and closes it softly.
“The board would like to meet with you. There’s a rep on the way.”
Fuck.
My heart hurls itself against my ribcage, sweat slicking my palms. Do they know?
Jake must have told them. He didn’t seem like the type to run off and do that, but then I don’t actually know the guy.
For all I know, he’s best buddies with the board and didn’t think twice about calling them the moment he spotted us.
I study Danny for clues, but he still won’t meet my gaze.
“Also, I think you should know,” he murmurs, “Theo sent his resignation last night.”
An icy chill washes over me. “He what?”
Danny sighs. “I don’t know the full story, but… yeah. Late email. Said it was for personal reasons.” Finally, he lifts his gaze to mine. “I assume you have some idea why?”
I open my mouth, then close it, processing this.
He resigned. Theo resigned.
My heart pounds, and I start to pace restlessly on the spot. How could he do that? How can this school function without him? It’s not Wetherly Prep without Headmaster Wright.
My breath shudders as tears press behind my eyes. What did I expect? He won’t hurt the school, but he loves me. He wants to be with me. He’s done this for me.
An avalanche of guilt crashes through me, and I sink into a chair, burying my face in my hands. I’ve cost this school their headmaster, but more than that, I’ve cost Theo his job. His purpose. His life.
Oh God. What have I done?
“Danny,” I say, my voice cracking. “I didn’t—”
There’s a knock at the door, and he turns from me reluctantly. I watch as he welcomes a woman in a sweater set and pearls, someone I recognize from last night. Helen, I think her name was.
Danny’s gaze slides back to mine, shadowed with worry, and fear claws at my insides.
I’m about to be fired. That’s why she’s here. I’ve ruined Theo’s life, and now mine is about to go up in flames.
And all I can do is stand on wobbling legs and force a smile as she shakes my hand, introducing herself. My heart is in my throat as she settles in at the table, as I imagine Theo packing up his desk today, myself being marched out in front of the faculty. In front of my students.
Shit. My students.
I turn to Danny suddenly. “My class,” I say hoarsely, motioning to the door with a limp hand. “They’ll be waiting for me…”
“I’ve covered you for first period,” Danny says, softening. Like he knows the shit is about to hit the fan and feels bad for me. Actually, he looks almost sad. Is he sad to see me go? Or sad that I’ve let him down so badly? That I drove Theo from the school?
Before I can follow that train of thought any further, Helen folds her hands on the table, assessing me for a long moment. I squirm in my seat, an apology on the tip of my tongue. But what good would it do, really?
At last, she draws breath. “You’ve had quite a weekend, I imagine.” There’s a glint of something in her eye, and I wait for her to say the words. I’m completely unprepared when she says, “But I want to be clear, we’re very impressed with Safe Harbor.”
I blink. This time the apology does slip out, but it comes as a question: “Sorry?”
“I think Mr. Wright may have undersold it when he pitched it to the board in September,” she continues.
Why is she talking about Safe Harbor? I glance at Danny, but he looks as flummoxed as I feel.
“We’re blown away by the community support,” Helen says. “By the money raised. It has far exceeded our expectations. You’ve made a mark on this school, Miss Hart.”
I stare at her, pulse thrumming, waiting for the catch. The, “Unfortunately…”
But it doesn’t come. She simply gazes at me, her eyes warm.
Eventually, my silence becomes awkward.
I clear my throat, choking out, “Thank you.”
Helen smiles, as if sensing my uncertainty. “I wanted to let you know you have the board’s complete backing to roll out the Safe Harbor program during the rest of the academic year. We hope you will continue to lead this initiative.”
My lips part in surprise as I digest this.
So they’re not firing me? They’re asking me to stick around.
More than that, they’re extending their initial promise of running Safe Harbor as a pilot over one semester.
They want to run it over the year. That means I’ll get to do everything I imagined; the Ripple Weeks, the garden, the summer camp. It’s all going to happen.
I glance at Danny, overwhelmed. How can this be happening after everything?
He chuckles, looking relieved. “I think she’s in shock,” he murmurs, and Helen gives a light, controlled laugh.
That’s putting it mildly.
But my mind drifts to Theo, to what Danny just told me. This doesn’t make any sense.
“So… I’m not in trouble?” I ask at length. I’m dreading her answer, but I have to know.
“Not at all,” Helen assures me. “Quite the opposite, actually. We appreciate everything you’ve contributed. That’s why we wanted to check in with you personally.”
I let out a long, slow breath, waiting for the relief to come, but it’s just out of reach.
Helen picks up her purse, making to stand. “Please ensure you communicate openly with the board as Safe Harbor unfolds,” she says. “There may be some… challenges ahead”—here she drops her gaze—“but we believe in you and your leadership.”
Danny nods as he stands too. “We’re all behind Eleanor and this program.”
“And so you should be.” Helen extends her hand again, and I spring to my feet, taking it. “We’re counting on you, Eleanor. You’re exactly who this school needs right now.”
Then she leaves the room, a trail of Chanel No. 5 in her wake. I stand there for a moment, trying to make sense of this.
“Nora?” Danny asks quietly, and I glance at him. Before I can speak, he adds, “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” Then he slips away too, leaving me with my racing thoughts.
Safe Harbor has been greenlit for the entire year. That’s a phenomenal win.
So why doesn’t it feel like it?
I head for the corridor, needing to see Theo. Did he tell them? Did they force him out? If they know, why aren’t they saying anything? Unless… maybe he resigned without telling them why? Maybe he didn’t even mention me at all.
My head throbs as I approach Theo’s office, but his door is open. Margaret glances up, looking apologetic.
“He stepped out a little while ago.”
Shit.
I wring my hands, peering past her, desperate to talk to him. His desk looks tidy. Too tidy. Has he already cleared it out? My heart aches at the thought.
The bell rings for second period, reminding me of the true reason I’m here: my students. I need to head to class.
As I descend the stairs with a weight in my chest, everything feels wrong.
I’ve finally earned respect, finally proven myself, but it doesn’t feel like I thought it would, because the person who believed in me the most, who helped me believe in myself, might have thrown his own life away in the process.
Guilt clutches at my heart as I imagine Theo packing up his desk, his life, and leaving the school.
This morning, I thought I was about to be fired. Now, the board has handed me everything I’d hoped for.
But none of it matters if Theo’s gone.