Hate Me If It Helps – Alexander 23
BEN
weekend.
I felt like I spent the entire time staring at my phone, waiting for her image to pop up and to be able to hear her voice on the other end. Every time it buzzed it felt like my heart leapt straight out of my chest, and every time the anticipation turned sour.
But I kept my promise. I gave her the space she had begged me for.
That meant keeping busy, keeping moving. Because the moment I sat down, I was reminded of how many surfaces she had let me take her against. The ghost of her haunted my apartment, my dreams. She was living rent free in my mind, taking up all available head space, and she didn’t even know it.
And yet, I’d still managed to fuck up. Badly too. I’d been a complete brainless tool who’d tried to fight the inevitable truth instead of working to get ahead of it. I should’ve told her. The smart thing would have been to be upfront about it, introduce them when she’d walked into my classroom that day after work and he’d popped by to see how I was doing. Out of all my family members, he had always been the warmest, the one that felt most like family. But as soon as she appeared in the room, I’d been so nervous I hadn’t even noticed how off color she’d looked.
“I hope you aren’t here about the clubs,” Rob finally said. “I made it clear I couldn’t help you if you didn’t win.”
He sat on the other side of his desk across from me in his office. It was first thing Monday morning, the first Monday after the competition, and I’d thought about this moment all last night. Tried to figure out how I could fix this with her. This plan was the best I could come up with.
“It’s not that,” I shook my head. I sat up in the chair, looking him in the eyes as he lifted a mug of coffee to his lips. “I want to pull my application for vice principal.”
He spluttered, hot coffee spilling from his mug. Rob pushed back in his chair as the hot liquid burned. I watched as he collected himself, grabbing a napkin to mop up the spilt coffee.
“Olive found out about Dane,” I said plainly. We’d never discussed my uncle directly–it hadn’t come up before–and I was still resistant now. Bringing it up was to acknowledge the connection. I’d always thought I’d gotten this job on my own credentials, it hadn’t even been Dane who’d sent it my way. But with him a few levels above, he loomed over the role.
Rob threw the used napkin away, his face twisted in confusion.
“What about him?”
“That he’s my uncle.”
“Okay…” he looked at me, eyebrows raised as if he still didn’t get the connection. I would’ve thought Hanna would’ve filled him in already. There was no way Olive hadn’t spoken to her over the weekend.
“She found out, and she thinks there’s a connection between her not getting the job and the fact he’s my uncle,” I explained, “So I can’t take the job. If there’s any threat of influence there, I can’t take it,”
“Any influence that he might have had was managed, Ben,” He said it like it was so obvious, but I shook my head.
“Can we know that? You were there alongside him. What if he said something that swayed the others towards me? I would have never applied for the role if I’d know he’d be making the decision,”
I’d thought, that first day when the role was announced, that the decision would be more in Rob’s hands, or with the school board, rather than Dane. But when Dane had visited me in my classroom a few weeks later, he’d mentioned he was on the judging board. I’d tried to pull my application after that, but Rob had again convinced me that it would be okay, told me that he thought I’d be excellent in the role, and they would manage the issue with my uncle.
So I’d left it alone, decided just to see where it went, and avoided the topic whenever it came up. Thankfully, it had seemed like Olive hadn’t wanted to talk about it either, and that suited me fine. Until, she found out.
He sat up, his chair springing forward slightly before he spoke, “After the interview, after you left. Dane stood up and made sure the rest of the panel knew about your family connection. Then, he dismissed himself from the decision. He’d only been a part of the process so he could grill all the interviewees on the topics he wanted to make sure the new vice was competent on. After that, he left it up to us,”
My mouth went dry. Nobody ever said anything to me, me and Dane hadn’t even discussed the interview outside of the office where it had taken place. But for him to dismiss himself from the entire judging of the role… It was a smart move, and showed exactly what I needed it to do. There was no influence, whether I got the job or not, it was on my own merit.
Then, with a sigh, Rob added, “He even recommended Olive for the role,”
“Really?”
It didn’t take me by surprise she’d be a contender for the role, it was the recognition she deserved. For years, she’d worked hard to make this job work, to give her students the best experience she could, despite the budget cuts and limitations, and I’ll admit it, me.
But if Dane, who came highly respected in his role as the district head, despite his own pushing for budget cuts, had recommended her before bowing out of the judgment, why hadn’t she gotten the role?
“She was his favorite,” Rob confirmed. “But the others were always clear on a STEM focused appointee.”
“So, she never stood a chance?” My heart broke for her. If I hadn’t applied, if Dane hadn’t had to excuse himself from the judgment… would she have gotten the role? Had I still ruined it all for her?
He shook his head. “I tried to warn her before she applied, but even I thought she’d still have a shot at it.”
We fell silent, and the room was awkward. I wasn’t sure what else to say, and instead I found myself thinking about the other role Olive had been offered. She’d never told me about it. As much as she complained about me not opening up to her, she sure kept some things close to her own chest. But I’d suddenly become grateful she had applied elsewhere. Somewhere they saw her potential, saw how dedicated a teacher she had been, and gave her the recognition she deserved.
Of course, that meant she’d leave here. Leave me. That thought alone felt like a cold dagger in my heart, but if it was for the best, I could deal right? I could let her go, if I knew she’d be happy.
I’d spent half the weekend worrying about her. She’d been a mess the night before, and for weeks it felt like I’d been watching her fade away. I could see she wasn’t okay–with work, with whatever was happening at home. And now with the competition over, I just wanted more than anything to know she was okay.
Suddenly, Rob said, “You can turn down the job if you want, but it won’t prove anything.”
“Turn down the job?” I repeated, blinking twice.
“The board decided last week they wanted to offer you the role of vice principal. You’ll probably get a phone call sometime this week.”
My heart stopped in my chest, my palms suddenly too sweaty for the fists I’d accidentally been holding them in. I rubbed them together, the skin sticky and hot. Why were they so sticky and hot?
“I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, trying to pull myself together.
And then I felt it, the wash of relief. I’d wanted this job. I’d been working towards it since I’d joined, itching for more authority over the changes that were inevitable. I liked teaching, liked interacting with the students, but there was more work I could do here. And I’d been out there. I’d had a job doing something other than teaching and it gave me a good view of what employers wanted, especially in STEM. I wanted the role to help mold more prepared students.
And now I could. If only Olive could see that.
“Think about it, decide if you really think turning down the job is really the best idea. You have your own future to think about as well,” Rob said, taking another sip from his coffee.
All I could think about was Olive. “I really fucked things up with her, Rob. I don’t know how to make it better.”
He shrugged, the movement less than reassuring. “You did. But, as your boss, I don’t advise you throw away your future at this school to try and fix it.”
I looked away, knowing he was right but hating it just as much. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to make this right, and now with the job truly mine, it was even harder. Could I turn it down for her? I wanted to, wanted to know I’d choose her over this. But could I really say that even if I turned this down, she’d forgive me? Was there even an option where she did let this go, a future where we were together and she wasn’t in another city with another job?
We were wrapped in so much uncertainty it was hard to see a life together, a life where she could be mine and I hers. But somehow, that was the only future I really wanted.
“And as your friend, as her friend…” Rob continued, clearing his throat as he sat up straight in his chair again. “Give her the space she needs.”
I nodded, knowing that I had to learn to do that. I had to let her come to me, then I could tell her everything, ask her if there was a chance, and make sure she was okay. No matter how hard it was, I had to give her space.
If she needed me, she’d call. She had sworn that to me. And I would be there in a heartbeat.
“Thanks. I promise I’ll think about it,” I said.
