Invisible String: Chapter 25

We had lost.

That was clear enough as I watched the crowds around us shoot to their feet to cheer, the other group quickly surrounded by celebrations and well-wishers.

I didn’t dare let myself think about what it meant. Not yet. Not even as Ben left my side, leaving me standing alone as he walked past our group and straight into the crowd without saying so much as a single word to any of us.

We had lost. To what? A simple error? Forgetting to add on the unit? Even me, with my total lack of mathematical skill, understood the importance of that fact.

I lost sight of Ben, my attention turning to our group who were still sitting slumped and silent at their desk. Stepping closer to them, I tried my best to collect my emotions, tried my best to wear my teacher hat and be there for them.

“Ms. Davis?” Zara, one of our students in the panel asked, looking over her shoulder at me. “What do we do now?”

I looked down the long table, taking in each of their distraught faces. My brain tried to come up with commands, a step by step plan of what to do next. Was there a ceremony we had to stick around for? Or could we haul ass and get to the bus and drive far from here already?

Before I could answer, the winning team appeared and put their hands out to shake. My students stood up and shook their hands, congratulating them all the while knowing exactly what we had lost.

The words still clanged around in my brain. The club was over. Done with. There wasn’t any more funding for it; we’d used up every cent of the budget Rob could send our way. All our scrimping to make this possible had been for nothing too.

Later. I could think about this later, dissect it when I was alone and could fall apart without an audience.

I saw him then, through a brief break in the crowd as the opposition’s teacher appeared in front of me, his hand out to shake. Ben was standing next to the presenter, wildly flailing his arms in the air. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it looked like he was asking, maybe more demanding, they reconsider the result. Knowing him he was referencing something in the rule book, probably using the words ‘margin of error’ and ‘impossible standard’.

“Congratulations on your win,” I said, managing to pull my focus away for a moment to look at the teacher as I took his hand, shaking firmly. They nodded and thanked me in response, moving away to give me a view of Ben again.

I watched as the presenter turned to walk away, and Ben pivoted on his heels so I could catch a glimpse of his face. His face was awash with a steely determination that had made me hate him for so impossibly long, his lips pressed into a thin line as the presenter argued back with him. In one look, I knew that unstoppable determination that drove him would not, could not, be reckoned with. He wasn’t letting this slide.

One of the judges stepped in, and when the presenter stepped back into my view, his expression almost made me smile. I took in the fear and terror that had become clear across his face, his absolute dread at having to deal with Ben for any longer.

I looked back at the students, realizing they needed my attention more than Ben did. He would have to handle himself for the moment. I swallowed, trying to find the right words to say.

And what was I supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry for getting you guys involved in something that never should’ve been within your power or concern. I’m sorry for the school system consistently failing us both, causing us all to burn out and place our hopes in something that had been a catastrophic failure’?

“You did so well,” I finally said, the words sinking like lead. “You all worked so hard to get to this point, I can’t even tell you how proud I am.”

Jon sighed, resting his head in his hands. “I shouldn’t have forgotten the unit. The question clearly stated units, I just rushed and… we would’ve won if –”

“No, don’t even finish that sentence,” I cut him off, pointing over at Ben, who was still arguing with the officials. They’d pulled out a copy of the official rule book, and were scanning through it looking for something, and Ben was pacing like some kind of wild animal, face red in frustration. “He’s arguing for you right now. He thinks you should’ve won, and maybe you should have. But either way, this isn’t on you. You did your absolute best. And it’s enough for me, it’s enough for your teammates, and it should be enough for you.” They fell silent, some of them just staring down at the table. “You should be damn proud of yourselves. I know I am.”

“You need to check the rules again, this is a simple error.” Ben’s familiar voice cut through the noise of the crowd, grabbing more than just my attention. I looked back at Jon, instructing them to stay where they were, before making my way across the stage to where Ben was still arguing with the officials.

“Mr. Bennett, the rules clearly state in the event of a tie break only exact answers are accepted. There is no margin of error allowed.” one of the judges stepped forward to explain, probably not for the first time going by the look on his face. “The ruling stands, your team is second place.”

Ben made to yell again, but I grabbed his arm–not forcefully, but enough to bring his attention to me instead of the official.

“Ben, you did everything you could.” I kept my voice low, quiet enough that only he could hear me above the bustling noise. I fought to keep his eyes on mine, moving my head so he couldn’t see past me. When his brown eyes finally caught mine, I said the words even though I hadn’t been ready to hear them. “But it’s over. Leave it be. We lost, and now we need to go home.”

“It’s bullshit, Olive. A fucking unit error.” He tried to pull back, argue whatever was formulating in his brilliant brain, but I kept him back, holding him in place by both arms. He pulled against it, but not enough to break my grip.

“I know.” I spoke as gently as I possibly could, keeping my eyes glued on him even as his eyes wildly darted around. “But it’s done.”

He looked at me then. That impossible anger melted away, his face crumpling for a moment before he pulled himself together.

“Let’s get everyone home,” I said quietly, tugging him away.

He only nodded, defeated. I knew he still wanted to fight, that if I let him go he’d turn around and restart the argument. I wasn’t sure when he’d finally accept the result, if he ever would, but I knew he needed to stop right now so we could go home.

This was bigger than him, than us. There were twenty students we were responsible for, and right now, they were feeling just as bad as us.

“Come on.” I slid down his arm and took his hand. I squeezed it once in reassurance, and his fingers interlocked with mine, like he’d done for me so many times. Ben let me pull him away, before dropping my hand as we headed back over to the group. They’d collected up their things and were now looking to us for instructions.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ben said, motioning his head to the side, and leading them all away to the other groups who were waiting for us outside. The sooner we could get out of here the better.

There was a thick dusting of snow on the parking lot from the storm. Ben was keeping himself busy doing the final head count and making sure we weren’t about to abandon anyone, when I spotted Rosa outside the bus, looking almost blue without a jacket on.

“Were you about to abandon me without a goodbye?” she grinned, shivered slightly as she attempted to pull the two sides of her clearly inadequate cardigan together.

“I was going to text you from the road, we need to get back before this storm traps us,” I said, walking up to her.

“Excuses, excuses,” she tsked. “I’m guessing you wanted a swift exit after that drama.”

“Something like that.” I was unable to hide the disappointment from my voice. Truly, the sooner I could get home and offload these kids to their parents the better. I hadn’t spoken to Ben yet, but I could clearly see a therapy bottle or two of wine in our future.

Maybe three.

“You should’ve won.” She looked almost sad for us, and I couldn’t help but feel like I agreed with her.

“Tell me something I don’t know. We kicked your ass,” I joked, though I didn’t feel like laughing.

She chuckled, then motioned her head to the left, sending my gaze over her shoulder, to a semi-familiar older woman. “Do you think you have a moment to chat with your potential future employer?”

Truthfully, I didn’t. My stomach lurched into tiny little backflips at the thought of having to talk to anyone. I wanted to get home, and we still had hours left on the road, probably longer given the storm. Hours in that bus, trapped with everyone feeling so low–it sounded like hell.

I turned around, finding Ben standing at the door of the bus. I noted the curiosity glimmering in his eyes but pushed it aside. This didn’t feel like something I could turn down.

“I’ll be back in a minute, get Frank to start the bus up,” I said, not waiting for his reply before I walked towards Rosa, shoes kicking up the fresh snow as we headed back inside the building and found her principal in the reception area.

“Principal Garcia, I believe you two have met virtually but let me be the one to introduce you in person,” Rosa said, sliding easily into conversation with her. “This is Olive Davis, one of the best and most creative people I have had the pleasure of working with.” She grinned excitedly.

“Olive!” The older woman exclaimed. “Commiserations on the event but I have to say, your teams did so well. It was impressive, especially given the time frame you said you had worked to.” She looked every bit as elegant as she had during our interview. Looking considerably warmer than Rosa was, she was wrapped up in a luxurious cashmere red scarf and wool wrap jacket.

“Thank you.” I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach that grew larger and larger every time I had to talk about our loss. “I couldn’t have done it alone, and the students themselves put in so much hard work.”

“Yes, of course. I saw Mr. Bennett was involved as well.”

“Yes, he was instrumental to the science and math preparation; he’s a brilliant teacher,” I said, ignoring Rosa’s shit-eating grin that was growing by the second, and instead focusing on the person that could possibly be my new boss. Even the thought was exhausting. But complimenting Ben wasn’t. Not anymore, not when it was an undeniable truth.

Watching him these months, I couldn’t understand how we’d managed to be at such odds with each other for so long, how I’d told myself I’d hated him, that he was the problem. All he’d been doing was exactly what I was doing: trying to make the best of a bad situation. Except he’d been doing a better job of keeping his head above water.

“Rosa, could you leave us for a moment?” Principal Garcia asked, turning to my friend.

“Of course, I’ll see you on the bus,” Rosa said, and sent a smile my way, mouthing the words “good luck” my way, before leaving us alone.

“I have to admit, I was suspicious of foul play when I saw his name on the listing,” Principal Garcia said, and my eyes narrowed on her as she spoke. Her words caught me completely off guard. Suspicious? Of what? “I knew his uncle when he was a teacher and he holds such influence, even in my own district, I wondered if he’d used his sway to get you into the competition.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused–who is his uncle?” I felt stupid asking, still trying to process what she was saying. The only time he’d mentioned his uncle was after that first night, when he’d tried to relate to me about the arts and had told me his uncle was also creative. Maybe it was a different uncle?

“Dane Marshall, the district head,” she said effortlessly, like the words had no weight to her. It was a simple fact and nothing more. To me, however, I felt like she’d picked up the heaviest stone her hand could fit around and hit me square in the jaw. “I remembered him reaching out a few years ago: there was an opening in our science department and he wanted to serve as an introduction between Ben and I.”

Was it just me, or was the Earth on fire?

“He made it clear he didn’t want to influence me–not that I would allow that anyway. But it didn’t matter anyway as he’d already received a different job offer elsewhere. I never forget a resume however,” the principal continued, completely impervious to the fact I was frozen in shock. The rest of her words faded into the background as I slowly began to lose my grip on reality.

His uncle–Ben’s uncle–was the district head. The same one on the panel for the vice principal job, the job I hadn’t gotten because I wasn’t a STEM teacher–unlike Ben. Ben, who was clearly still in the running for the job. Ben, the guy I’d been sleeping with, who’d been there for me, who held my hand and saw when I was struggling and hadn’t bothered to tell me who his uncle was despite the multiple opportunities. Ben, who hadn’t even introduced me when I’d met the district head, had stood there and stared at the floor while I chatted away with him completely clueless to who he was.

Ben, who had lied to me.

“I’m sorry, I need to go.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, cutting the woman off as she continued to speak, none of her words having registered. I’d heard what I needed to hear, and now I was itching to find Ben.

Find him, and recreate some of the more creative ways I’d plotted his demise.

She straightened, her gaze stony. “I was hoping we’d have more time to discuss the role.” Her voice took on a quality I could only call “old school principal”, the words snipped. “Usually, when I offer a job to people, I get a better reaction than ‘sorry, I need to go’.

I was on the verge of looking like an idiot because yet again my mouth fell open. I tried, and failed to collect myself up, the lava-like anger that was flowing through my veins still a distraction.

“I apologize, did you say you were offering me the job?” I stuttered.

If she’d been any less of a classy woman, she probably would’ve rolled her eyes at having to repeat herself, but instead, she simply straightened and said, “We did send an email yesterday with our offer, but I can see how in the excitement of today it could’ve been missed. We’d like you to join our facility as our new art teacher, starting whenever your schedule allows.”

An unintelligible noise escaped me, all thoughts erased from my mind. This is what I’d wanted. A new job, a fresh start. Right? More teaching, but with better resources. So why did my heart sink even further?

The words slowly began to string themselves together. “Thank you for the offer,” I said shakily. “I really do appreciate it., Can I get some time to think about it?”

She nodded. “Yes, but my board will want a decision soon. I have other people I could offer the job to.”

“I understand, thank you!” My voice wobbled as I spoke, the overwhelm really starting to hit home. I could barely think straight, could barely remember the way back to the bus. “I really should be getting back now.”

“I hope to hear from you soon.” She smiled, looking almost friendly for the first time. She turned and left me alone in the dry, hot hair of the hotel. I didn’t have a single straight thought in my head, my brain feeling closer to gray mush after the exhaustion of the day.

When I finally found some energy, I turned and tried to recall the exact direction the bus was in, praying I could find it easily so I could get home as soon as possible. Instead I found Ben, standing mere feet away, his eyes on me.

And suddenly a new job didn’t matter to me, not when I’d be going to prison soon for murdering Ben Bennett.