her and service was slow at Feliz Mercado, which had tables in the bakery area for diners to enjoy their purchases.
She shifted the sack she carried from one arm to the other. She’d spent too much of her paltry savings—come on, first paycheck!—on the freshly ground Italian coffee, real cream and three kinds of juices she’d bought. But she wanted to show her staff she valued them even in this subtle way.
First impressions were crucial.
She wiped the trickle of sweat from her temple. Her walk from the light-rail stop had been short, but the early March sun was warm even at 7:00 a.m. She’d selected her apartment because it was only a few stops from Discovery Middle School, since she had no car.
Now the bakery smells reminded her she’d had to skip breakfast, since she hadn’t had time to unpack her kitchen boxes. She’d moved into the tiny studio apartment only two days before.
The job offer had come abruptly, contingent on an immediate start, since her predecessor had been fired.
She was excited…and scared. This was her first principalship and it was at a middle school. Her experience as an assistant principal had been at two elementaries. On top of that, Discovery was a charter, also new to her.
She faced challenges, for sure, but she would meet them head-on, as always.
If she could just get to the darn school in time. She glanced at her watch. Hurry up!
She caught snatches of conversation from the nearby tables in both English and Spanish. She hoped her high-school Spanish would be enough to communicate with the non-English-speaking students and parents.
“I still can’t believe they fired Charlie,” someone at a table slightly behind her said. Felicity’s ears perked up. The man she’d replaced was Charlie Hopkins.
“The district got tired of him complaining about money,” someone else answered.
They were definitely talking about her school. Felicity listened hard.
“What did your friend in personnel say about the new one?”
“Not much. She’s cute. A cheerleader who looks all of twelve.”
Hey. Felicity was thirty-one, damn it. Sure, she was petite and bubbly with a high voice that might make her seem younger, but she had experience and she’d proved herself over and over. She would prove herself here, too.
“From California, right?” the other woman said.
“Yeah. She was pedaling some New Age self-esteem program as a consultant, but had to get a real job.”
“Funding has dried up everywhere,” the other woman said.
Exactly. Felicity wanted to hug her.
“If I had a dollar for every touchy-feely California pipe dream they foisted on us, I’d buy an island in the Pacific and retire.”
“You and me both, April.”
April… Felicity recognized the name. An English teacher? Felicity had pored over the school’s website and asked the assistant superintendent for as much background as possible so she could hit the ground running. They were partway into the spring semester already.
She wasn’t surprised by the cynicism, but Enriched Learning System was research-based and had earned awards. Teachers loved it once they heard the details. She was sure they would love it at Discovery, too.
“Maybe she’ll be good. We can always hope,” the nice one said.
“How good can she be? They’re paying her a first-year teacher’s salary.”
Felicity cringed, embarrassed this fact was known. The pay was low, but there were few midyear openings anywhere. Plus, this was a chance to test her system with older students in an at-risk school, which would earn her the credibility she needed. Her goal was to score a curriculum-director spot in a large district so she could bring her system to thousands of kids. Eventually she would reopen her business in California and reach thousands more.
The bakery line moved, but Felicity held back to listen.
“It’s all part of the plot, Marion. The district wants us to self-destruct, so they can say they tried to reach at-risk kids, but it couldn’t be done.”
“I don’t buy that. The alternative schools are Tom Brown’s pet projects.” Tom Brown was the man who had hired Felicity.
“He’s an idealist. He ignores what he doesn’t want to see.” This made Felicity’s stomach tighten. Tom had promised district resources. Would he come through?
“With regular schools hurting, boutique schools are a luxury we can’t afford. That’s the hard truth.”
“We can’t abandon these kids,” Marion said.
“They mess up the district’s No Child Left Behind scores.”
“Screw the scores. What about the kids? These kids washed out of regular schools. The alternative schools are their last chance.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Marion.”
“If we’re on the chopping block like you say, we need a powerhouse principal. Why did Tom hire a lightweight, for God’s sake?”
Felicity’s cheeks burned.
“Don’t you know? Phil Evers is a relative. She’s his niece or stepdaughter or something. Tom had to hire her.”
So. People knew she was related to the superintendent. That was unfair. Jefferson district was so big her uncle had no involvement in personnel decisions. She’d confirmed that with Tom before she’d accepted the job. Besides that, her mother had been estranged from Phil since before Felicity was born.
“I help you?” the round-faced Latina behind the counter asked Felicity.
Not likely. Even if she greeted her staff with a seven-layer flaming tiramisu, they would still think she was an unqualified phony. Turned out her first impression had already been made for her.
She paid for the rolls, then turned, thinking maybe she could clear the air with April and Marion. But they were gone, leaving only lipstick-stained mugs, wadded napkins and pañuelo crumbs—pretty much what remained of Felicity’s hopes for the day.
She set off down the block, lugging the food, the bag of rolls fragrant and warm against her arms, with just enough time to spare. When she reached the school, she saw one window had been boarded up and was covered with ugly gang tags.
So much for the cheerful breakfast greeting she’d planned. This was what the teachers would see when they got to school. She’d be lucky if they didn’t throw her precious pañuelos right back in her face.
AT©FOUR©THAT©AFTERNOON, Felicity lifted her head from the budget printout she’d been struggling over and took a deep breath. One thing she liked about her tiny office was how it smelled—like shoe leather and polish, since it used to be a shoe-repair place. She’d loved to help her daddy shine his shoes
