Chapter 52 Brie
brIE
A few weeks later, my cheeks hurt from smiling as I drive to my job interview for . . . my job. It’s the full-time position for the third grade class I’ve been subbing for at Blue Ridge Elementary.
Almost everything has fallen into place since that night with Squeakers and the letterman jacket.
After spring break, Tess came back from Nash’s happy and confident. Gia insisted Tess stay at her house for now because “I have the room, and there’s no need for you to rush your apartment hunt and end up somewhere you aren’t happy.”
Lizzie loves having her former teacher as a roommate.
Sawyer and I had a do-over bowling night with Tess and Dev, who surprised us all by winning.
And, I’ve spent almost every spare second with Sawyer since spring break, kissing, laughing, and making plans for our future together. He asks me to officially move in with him at least twice a day, just because he likes hearing me say yes.
My job status is the only question mark on my life right now, but this interview is going to solve that.
I’m still grinning wide as I park my car and enter the quiet building where the offices are for the higher ups in the district.
Even as the receptionist doesn’t smile back.
Even as the air pressure drops when I walk into the meeting room.
And even as I take in the five rigid faces frowning down at me. Two of them I don’t recognize, but the ones I do turn my blood to ice.
They sit behind a long table on the dais, raised just high enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet their stern eyes. There’s a single metal folding chair in the middle of the room, facing them.
Suddenly, I’m back at Everett Academy, called in to speak to the board after rumors started spreading.
How could I have been so stupid? I was so sure, so absolutely certain, this was just a formality. Even right now, a shadow of that grin lingers, though my brain screams, ABORT! ABORT!
I want to cringe at how I practically skipped into the building, so confident, just a minute ago. This is no interview. Did the woman on the phone yesterday even use that word? My mind races, trying to remember.
No one speaks. The only sound in the room is the second-hand ticking on the clock to my right. Heart thudding, I take in all the faces. A rock sinks into my stomach when I realize who three of them are.
Mrs. Beaufort.
Judge Beaufort.
Ted Strong, the ex-mayor and Sawyer’s dad.
I know from Sawyer this county operates differently than anywhere I’ve worked before.
The schools here are run under the oversight of a small committee, a rotating group of so-called “pillars of the community.” I hoped for volunteers like Sadge Brown, the former principal, and Justin Clarke, an ex-EMT.
General do-gooders who want what’s best for the town.
But this? This is my worst nightmare coming to life.
Mr. Strong doesn’t deign to look at me when he says, “Do you know why we called you here, Ms. Casey?”
What did Geri say when she called? I skim the contents of my memory.
I wipe my palms on my skirt, swallowing the tight knot in my throat. “I’m here regarding my employment status.”
Mrs. Beaufort puckers her lips in distaste.
“Very good,” Mr. Strong says indulgently, like I’m a very slow, very dumb child.
The woman I don’t recognize, Geri Belinger probably, speaks next. “I called you in today for a formal . . . review. Take a seat.”
Itchy, burning shame rises, like I’ve just been caught cheating on a test. This is exactly how it felt at Everett Academy.
I step forward and do what I’m told, just like I did last time.
The metal is cold through the fabric of my suit.
“Ms. Casey,” Judge Beaufort begins. I crane my neck to meet his eyes. “I see you applied for this position back at the end of December, and have filled the role as substitute for the same class since January. How long have you been a teacher?”
Okay. So far so good. I can answer this.
I open my mouth, but Mrs. Beaufort cuts in before I can speak.
“This seems to be a pattern for you, does it not, Ms. Casey?”
“A pattern?” I squeak.
“Entangling professional responsibilities with personal . . . desires.” She hisses the last word like it’s dirty.
I blanch. She might as well have asked, “How long have you been whoring?”
This is exactly like what happened at Everett. And I’m all alone, just like I was then.
When I don’t answer, Mr. Strong finally looks at me expectantly, as if Mrs. Beaufort’s question was perfectly reasonable.
I lick my lips. “What is this, exactly?”
Mr. Strong laughs, like I’m just too funny. “Assessing your fit as a teacher here, of course.”
The man I don’t recognize says, “Someone has been pushing very hard for your full-time hire.”
Looking at me over his glasses, Mr. Strong adds, “We, however, have several concerns. Indeed, this committee has reservations over your fitness as a substitute.”
A black hole forms in my chest, eating at me from the inside. I’m not here to get a job for next year. I’m here to get fired from the one I have now, the temporary position that doesn’t even require a teaching license.
What am I going to tell Sawyer? My sisters? Lizzie?
“Are the rumblings true, Ms. Casey?” Judge Beaufort asks. “That you had an affair at your previous school, and the same is occurring here?”
Like an excited child, Mrs. Beaufort says, “It’s true! I saw it myself, in public in front of everyone. Absolutely disgraceful.”
How could I have been so reckless? I can’t believe I thought Sawyer was protecting me by making a show of us together that day at the festival. Of course that wouldn’t matter, I was always going to be the bad guy here.
They were never going to give me a chance.
While Mr. Strong gives a dissertation about professionalism, my guilt and shame morph into anger, indignation, and the pure euphoria that comes with no longer giving a fuck what these people think of me.
They have no bearing on the way I live my life anymore. I have no one to keep safe except myself now, and this right here is the worst they can do to me.
No teaching job? Fine, I’ll work at the damn diner again if I have to.
Slut shaming? No problem. If I had a scarlet A, I’d pin it on myself.
I won’t run away again, not because of them. I found where I belong, and I’m staying right here. With Sawyer. With my friends and family. All the people who love me. And I can’t wait for these jerks to see how happy I am.
“. . . completely against community standards,” Mr. Strong continues. “You can understand why we’d be concerned about someone from your family teaching the impressionable youth here.”
Mrs. Beaufort eagerly chimes in, “We really should have known better from the beginning. I did warn that committee it was a bad idea to take a chance on a Casey.”
Mr. Strong nods gravely. “It’s a shame none of us were on it at that time.” His eyes cut to me. “We aren’t finished. Sit down.”
“Why?” I half-laugh. “Clearly, you’ve already made up your minds about me. Why even invite me here in the first place?”
“No need to be aggressive,” Mr. Strong says.
“No need for the misogyny,” I lob back. “You said it yourself, Mrs. Beaufort, you knew from the beginning you didn’t want me here.
Was there anything I could have done to impress you?
” I scoff. “Doubt it. I want this job. I’m damn good at it.
But you have this weird vendetta against me, a bias that I don’t deserve and that you’ll never be able to look past.” I point up at the committee.
“You are doing the youth of this community a disservice. You.”
I take in Mrs. Beaufort’s stunned, puckered face, and Mr. Strong’s look of disapproval. Then spin around and walk out.