It’s only when I wake up next morning with Millie snoring beside me that I realize that I missed a call, or so the notification on my phone says.
Missed call from Daddy Noah.
Thirty Four
Andie
I’m on fumes and seven cups of caffeine, with the eighth one spilling over my hand as I run around like a headless chicken trying to get everything in order.
Today, it’s either a make or a break.
And I desperately want to make it to the finish line.
The children bubble with anxiety and excitement, unable to stay on one emotion. I get that, it’s their first performance at this level.
These little souls have put in their blood, sweat, andtears. And I want today to be a success for not just me, but also for them. They should know how it feels to taste victory after putting in everything you can.
The audience would start entering the theatre hall in two hours. Ticking off‘dresses’off the list, I move on to the next item,‘Lights and music’,to get everything in order on time.
Heading over to the two guys who’ll be managing the tech setup tonight, I hand them the backup pen drive, just in case.
One by one, I take care of everything on the list and head back to the children backstage, where I find Mrs. Deena talking to the Principal, Mr. Gates.
Discarding the now-empty coffee cup in the nearest bin, I square my shoulders because talking to Mrs. Deena is more like a battle than a civil conversation. Heading over to them, I give them both a smile. “Good morning,” I greet.
Mr. Gates returns with a polite smile, “Good Morning, Ms. Moore. I hope everything for tonight is in order?”
“Absolutely, Sir,” I say with the confidence I don’t feel, but fake it till you make it, right?
“Splendid,” he nods, sliding his hands in hispockets. “Good luck tonight, and if all goes well, we can discuss your contract tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say it to be rude or judgmental, but the reminder still weighs heavily on my shoulders. My smile turning tight as I put effort into maintaining it for him.
With another encouraging nod, he walks away, leaving me alone with the woman who seems to hate my guts for reasons I doubt even God knows.
“We will know tonight,” Mrs. Deena crosses her arms at her chest, her appearance as immaculate as ever. “We’ll know if you’re worth anything or just another try-hard who thought teaching and handling responsibilities is a joke.”
Her condescending tone grates on my nerves, but also manages to stir worry inside of me. What if she’s right and I’m useless and incompetent? What if I wasn’t cut out for this?
No, I can’t let her get to me. I’ve spent countless hours working and refining the program, and hard work always pays off. Who exactly is she to judge and make me doubt my own capabilities?
“Guess we will,” I reply, not bothering to smile to keep up the pretense when she’s been hostile to me from the first day I set foot into thepremises.
I turn on my heels without waiting for her to give another snide comment or make an insult disguised as an observation.
I basically just blew off the Vice Principal of the school I’m trying to get a permanent teaching position at. Look at me go!
Heaving a tired breath, I head back to where the kids are in one of the classes closest to the hall. Stopping short at the entrance to the class, I cross my arms across my chest and take in the excited children as they try on their dresses and chatter about how important their role is in the play.
Some of the tension bleeds away at the welcome sight. The gleeful smile of these kids reminds me why I do this, why I want to be a teacher—a teacher who leaves a lasting impact on their lives.
Yes, I do it for these kids.
With that thought in mind, I get back to doing a final check before the show starts. Huddling the first group of children toward the backstage area, I give the mic to Tabi to practice her welcome speech.
Tabi hurries to the center of the stage and getsin position, delivering her lines with perfection. That’s when I hear something metallic creaking.
My hackles rise, dread spreading the length of my spine as my eyes frantically dart to the source of the noise. The next few moments pass as if in slow motion, though it’s only a few seconds.