“Knock, knock,” Mrs. Peters stuck her head around Scott’s door frame. “You all ready for Christmas break?” she asked.
“Am I ever,” Scott said, reaching out to turn off his monitor as the computer shut down. “I’m ready for a lot less drama and intrigue, that’s for sure.”
Mrs. Peters laughed. “Me too,” she said. “Well, I just stopped by to say enjoy your break and to give you this.” She held out a small object, which Scott took, then promptly burst out laughing. It was a Christmas ornament: a miniature Snoopy dressed up as Sherlock Holmes.
THE END.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
...
Mrs. Peters dreaded her final task Thursday afternoon, but was determined to see it through as soon as possible. She tapped on Teresa Williams’ office door.
“Come in.”
“Hi Teresa,” Mrs. Peters said. “Do you have a minute.”
Teresa invited Mrs. Peters in, but guardedly. The look on Mrs. Peters face was not heartening. And after a few minutes, Teresa wished she’d just locked the door in Mrs. Peters face. As Mrs. Peters talked Teresa muscles stiffened and her knuckles turning white as she unconsciously gripped the arms of her chair.
“Teresa, you must know that this kind of attitude and behavior is not healthy for you or for the girls that you coach. I came to you today because I want to give you the chance to step down and leave the school quietly. No one has to know why, and no one will press charges.”
“I’ll sue you for slander,” Teresa said, her voice full of fire.
“Teresa, I have proof. Written statements,” Mrs. Peters stood up. “I’ll give you until Monday. If you haven’t stepped down by then, I’m going to the board of directors on Tuesday night.”
“Come in.”
“Hi Teresa,” Mrs. Peters said. “Do you have a minute.”
Teresa invited Mrs. Peters in, but guardedly. The look on Mrs. Peters face was not heartening. And after a few minutes, Teresa wished she’d just locked the door in Mrs. Peters face. As Mrs. Peters talked Teresa muscles stiffened and her knuckles turning white as she unconsciously gripped the arms of her chair.
“Teresa, you must know that this kind of attitude and behavior is not healthy for you or for the girls that you coach. I came to you today because I want to give you the chance to step down and leave the school quietly. No one has to know why, and no one will press charges.”
“I’ll sue you for slander,” Teresa said, her voice full of fire.
“Teresa, I have proof. Written statements,” Mrs. Peters stood up. “I’ll give you until Monday. If you haven’t stepped down by then, I’m going to the board of directors on Tuesday night.”
...
Scott sat in Mrs. Peters office and relayed the information about the posthole digger, and Mrs. Peters told Scott about her conversation with Stephanie.
“I think I know what’s going on,” Scott said. “As crazy as it sounds, I think Teresa Williams is behind this, and I think Jill – at the very least – is helping her. It’s the only thing that makes sense, particularly in light of Teresa’s ‘you’re a shining star who’s really proved herself’ speech, and the fact that another cheerleader expressed fear. Clearly, the situation with the cheer squad is dysfunctional.”
Mrs. Peters nodded her head, her eyes sad. “I think you’re right. And I think it must have been Jill who was digging that whole. But what should we do?”
“I think we need to talk to Jenni. I think she’s on the edge of this, and knows enough to make all of our evidence come together. But she’s not all in the way Jill is. If we can get Jenni to confirm what we know, we’ll have an eye witness. We can go to the police.”
They were silent for a moment, both processing their disgust and disappointment at the whole situation. Then Mrs. Peters sat up, determination as well as resignation on her face. “I’ll talk to Jenni,” she said. “But then I want to try just confronting Teresa and Jill. As satisfying as justice would be I just don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. Those hurt girls are moving on; let’s just let it go. Honestly, I think not having a cheer coaching job will be punishment enough for Teresa.”
Scott wasn’t convinced, but respected Mrs. Peters enough to trust her judgement. “Just promise me if she doesn’t immediately resign, that you’ll let me call the police.”
“I promise.”
“I think I know what’s going on,” Scott said. “As crazy as it sounds, I think Teresa Williams is behind this, and I think Jill – at the very least – is helping her. It’s the only thing that makes sense, particularly in light of Teresa’s ‘you’re a shining star who’s really proved herself’ speech, and the fact that another cheerleader expressed fear. Clearly, the situation with the cheer squad is dysfunctional.”
Mrs. Peters nodded her head, her eyes sad. “I think you’re right. And I think it must have been Jill who was digging that whole. But what should we do?”
“I think we need to talk to Jenni. I think she’s on the edge of this, and knows enough to make all of our evidence come together. But she’s not all in the way Jill is. If we can get Jenni to confirm what we know, we’ll have an eye witness. We can go to the police.”
They were silent for a moment, both processing their disgust and disappointment at the whole situation. Then Mrs. Peters sat up, determination as well as resignation on her face. “I’ll talk to Jenni,” she said. “But then I want to try just confronting Teresa and Jill. As satisfying as justice would be I just don’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. Those hurt girls are moving on; let’s just let it go. Honestly, I think not having a cheer coaching job will be punishment enough for Teresa.”
Scott wasn’t convinced, but respected Mrs. Peters enough to trust her judgement. “Just promise me if she doesn’t immediately resign, that you’ll let me call the police.”
“I promise.”
...
Scott leaned back in his desk chair, phone at his ear. “So you’re sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” said Bill Futch, owner of the lawn care company that Eastbrook contracted to take care of the grounds and athletic fields. “I came out this week to double check and you don’t have a gopher problem. But I do think you may have a vandal problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“When asked the crew that normally goes out to Eastbrook about any sign of gophers, one of the guys said that a couple of weeks ago he saw a girl out in the practice field digging a hole with a post-hole digger.”
“Come again?” Scott said, sitting upright in his chair.
“I know, I know. Seems crazy. And I got onto the guy for not telling me about it, but yeah, he said a pretty girl with blonde hair was out there at 5:30 a.m. digging with a post hole digger.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Scott said, his mind racing.
“Absolutely,” said Bill Futch, owner of the lawn care company that Eastbrook contracted to take care of the grounds and athletic fields. “I came out this week to double check and you don’t have a gopher problem. But I do think you may have a vandal problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“When asked the crew that normally goes out to Eastbrook about any sign of gophers, one of the guys said that a couple of weeks ago he saw a girl out in the practice field digging a hole with a post-hole digger.”
“Come again?” Scott said, sitting upright in his chair.
“I know, I know. Seems crazy. And I got onto the guy for not telling me about it, but yeah, he said a pretty girl with blonde hair was out there at 5:30 a.m. digging with a post hole digger.”
“Thanks, Bill,” Scott said, his mind racing.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
...
A few days later, Stephanie sat in Mrs. Peters office during her study period, chatting as she turned in her parental permission forms for an upcoming choir trip.
“I’m so excited they let me start choir in the middle of the semester,” Stephanie was saying. “I knew I’d get to sing next semester but I really wanted to get to go on this trip. The capital at Christmas! It’s going to be so fun.”
Mrs. Peters smiled as she filed the form and entered in a few things on the computer. “Well, I’m glad for you. I never knew you were that into choir,” she said. “I just always saw you cheering and assumed you were a sports girl.”
Stephanie laughed, although Mrs. Peters noticed a slight flinch at the word “cheering.” “Oh, Mrs. Peters, don’t stereotype,” she said. “I have lots of interests. They were just harder to be interested in during cheering.”
“That’s a shame.”
Stephanie shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal in jr. high, but Mrs. Williams is….different. It turned into more of a commitment.” Stephanie glanced around the room as she said this, her shoulders tensing, but Mrs. Peters took advantage of Stephanie’s candor to push the conversation a little further.
“You know, speaking of cheerleading,” she said, her voice gentle, “I never did ask you want went wrong at that football game, the one where you and Missy got hurt.”
“Oh.” Stephanie shifted in her chair, her hands clenching and unclenching around the strap of her messenger bag. “Well, one key to any dismount is for the person below you to not be holding on as you jump. Usually once you get balanced, the person on bottom just let’s go, or holds on only slightly until they feel you tense for the jump. But on that pyramid there’s more contact so that we’re more stable up high. When I jumped it felt like Jenni didn’t let go in time.”
“How unfortunate,” Mrs. Peters said. She thought about Jenni’s concern that another cheerleader might get hurt. Was it just her closeness to this first – no second – accident?
Stephanie shrugged, “yeah. She must have been distracted or spaced out or something. Whatever. It’s over now.”
Mrs. Peters smiled and nodded. The bell rang and Stephanie stood up to go to her next class. Mrs. Peters stood up to and gave the girl a brief hug before waving her out the door.
“I’m so excited they let me start choir in the middle of the semester,” Stephanie was saying. “I knew I’d get to sing next semester but I really wanted to get to go on this trip. The capital at Christmas! It’s going to be so fun.”
Mrs. Peters smiled as she filed the form and entered in a few things on the computer. “Well, I’m glad for you. I never knew you were that into choir,” she said. “I just always saw you cheering and assumed you were a sports girl.”
Stephanie laughed, although Mrs. Peters noticed a slight flinch at the word “cheering.” “Oh, Mrs. Peters, don’t stereotype,” she said. “I have lots of interests. They were just harder to be interested in during cheering.”
“That’s a shame.”
Stephanie shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal in jr. high, but Mrs. Williams is….different. It turned into more of a commitment.” Stephanie glanced around the room as she said this, her shoulders tensing, but Mrs. Peters took advantage of Stephanie’s candor to push the conversation a little further.
“You know, speaking of cheerleading,” she said, her voice gentle, “I never did ask you want went wrong at that football game, the one where you and Missy got hurt.”
“Oh.” Stephanie shifted in her chair, her hands clenching and unclenching around the strap of her messenger bag. “Well, one key to any dismount is for the person below you to not be holding on as you jump. Usually once you get balanced, the person on bottom just let’s go, or holds on only slightly until they feel you tense for the jump. But on that pyramid there’s more contact so that we’re more stable up high. When I jumped it felt like Jenni didn’t let go in time.”
“How unfortunate,” Mrs. Peters said. She thought about Jenni’s concern that another cheerleader might get hurt. Was it just her closeness to this first – no second – accident?
Stephanie shrugged, “yeah. She must have been distracted or spaced out or something. Whatever. It’s over now.”
Mrs. Peters smiled and nodded. The bell rang and Stephanie stood up to go to her next class. Mrs. Peters stood up to and gave the girl a brief hug before waving her out the door.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
...
Scott was busy fighting fires, essentially handling all of the requests and supposed emergencies that teachers came to them with. Emergencies like “Someone took my overhead projector!” or “I need my desk moved to the other corner of the room!” or “I need these books moved from my car into the classroom!” And his personal favorite “A toilet’s exploded in the third floor boys bathroom!” They were days that tried Scott’s patience. He had just finished cleaning up the mess from a broken water fountain in the arts building and went to check his box, wondering if today would be the day that his patience finally snapped. His spirits lifted momentarily when he saw only one work order in his box. He pulled the order out, read it, and headed to Mrs. Peters’ office.
“So, a gopher problem,” he said, walking in the open door to her office.
Mrs. Peters smiled at Scott in greeting, but he thought she seemed a little distracted. “That’s what it appears to be anyway. Ms. Williams came in this morning; apparently Jenni Carter badly sprained her ankle while running laps around the practice field during cheerleading practice before school.”
Scott’s eyebrows rose. “Another cheerleader getting hurt,” he said. “You have to admit, Mrs. Peters, this is getting a little ridiculous.”
“So many accidents,” she said, extending her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What can you even do?”
Scott shut the office door, and sat down on the chair in front of Mrs. Peters’ desk, “Mrs. Peters, you know I’m not one to buy in to conspiracy theories, but this is getting ridiculous. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet! Even the football team hasn’t had this many injuries.”
“What else could it be, but unfortunate accidents?” Mrs. Peters asked.
“Look, I’m just going to say it out loud,” Scott said. “But it really seems to me like some of these accidents – if not all of them – might be deliberate.”
Mrs. Peters shook her head, “I really think you’re jumping to conclusions, Scott. Why would anyone want to do something like that? And who would it be? One of the other cheerleaders? A rival school? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” Scott said. “But neither do a broken foot, a severely sprained ankle, cracked ribs, bruised backs, strained knees…I’ve been around sports my whole life, and I’ve never seen any kind of team suffer these kinds of injuries.”
They sat in silence for a moment, digesting Scott’s words and their implication.
“Maybe you’re right,” Mrs. Peters admitted. “But first we need proof that they aren’t accidents.”
Scott nodded. “Let me look into this gopher thing. And let’s both keep our eyes and ears open. If you get a chance to talk to any of the girls…I don’t know….maybe you can get them to open up a little.”
Scott stood up to leave and Mrs. Peters shook her head sadly, “Scott, I just hope you’re wrong.”
“So, a gopher problem,” he said, walking in the open door to her office.
Mrs. Peters smiled at Scott in greeting, but he thought she seemed a little distracted. “That’s what it appears to be anyway. Ms. Williams came in this morning; apparently Jenni Carter badly sprained her ankle while running laps around the practice field during cheerleading practice before school.”
Scott’s eyebrows rose. “Another cheerleader getting hurt,” he said. “You have to admit, Mrs. Peters, this is getting a little ridiculous.”
“So many accidents,” she said, extending her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What can you even do?”
Scott shut the office door, and sat down on the chair in front of Mrs. Peters’ desk, “Mrs. Peters, you know I’m not one to buy in to conspiracy theories, but this is getting ridiculous. It’s not even Thanksgiving yet! Even the football team hasn’t had this many injuries.”
“What else could it be, but unfortunate accidents?” Mrs. Peters asked.
“Look, I’m just going to say it out loud,” Scott said. “But it really seems to me like some of these accidents – if not all of them – might be deliberate.”
Mrs. Peters shook her head, “I really think you’re jumping to conclusions, Scott. Why would anyone want to do something like that? And who would it be? One of the other cheerleaders? A rival school? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know,” Scott said. “But neither do a broken foot, a severely sprained ankle, cracked ribs, bruised backs, strained knees…I’ve been around sports my whole life, and I’ve never seen any kind of team suffer these kinds of injuries.”
They sat in silence for a moment, digesting Scott’s words and their implication.
“Maybe you’re right,” Mrs. Peters admitted. “But first we need proof that they aren’t accidents.”
Scott nodded. “Let me look into this gopher thing. And let’s both keep our eyes and ears open. If you get a chance to talk to any of the girls…I don’t know….maybe you can get them to open up a little.”
Scott stood up to leave and Mrs. Peters shook her head sadly, “Scott, I just hope you’re wrong.”
Friday, October 01, 2010
...
“Jill, please don’t yell at me, but I’m a little scared about the game this weekend.” Jenni Wright’s voice was so low and her eyes kept darting around.
“Jenni what’s the matter?” Jill closed her locker and began walking down the hall toward the courtyard. “Is it because it’s a playoff game? You know the guys are doing really well and that they’ve beat this team before. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“No. I mean, yes, of course I’m concerned about the team; we all want them to get to state so bad. No…I’m nervous about the pyramids.”
“Jenni listen to me carefully,” Jill’s voice low, but intense. “No one is going to get hurt. No one. I promise.”
“But how can…”
“No one.”
Jenni stared at Jill. Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly assumed her mask, sealing away any thoughts or doubts or emotions.
“I guess that’s all I needed to hear,” she said.“See you tomorrow.”
Jill watched Jenni walk out the door, noting that Jenni’s jeans had gotten a little tight over the past few months; maybe it was time to have another nutrition session at one of their practices. Jill gave herself a shake. No matter. She had more important things to think about than Jenni’s weight. She pushed open the door, but instead of heading out to the student parking she turned toward the gym and Ms. Williams office.
“We may have a small problem,” she said, sitting down in one of the plush chairs in Ms. Williams’ office, oblivious to the figure in the corner. Even Ms. Williams had forgotten that Scott was rewiring the outlet.
“Oh?” Ms. Williams’ perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. “I thought we were done with problems.”
“Well, the big ones yes, but one of the girls talked to me today and she’s pretty concerned that someone else is going to get hurt. I reassured her and I think she understood, but maybe we should take it easy for a while. Also,” she hesitated for a brief moment. “I think Jenni’s put on a little weight.”
Jill watched Ms. Williams closely, knowing that by making a suggestion she was taking a risk, especially a suggestion that amounted to “back off,.” But Ms. Williams surprised her by smiling.
“It’s so wonderful to see you taking ownership of this team,” she said, leaning forward in her leather chair. “Because you are out there with these girls every day I’m going to respect your judgment.”
“Really?”
Ms. Williams laughed, a light, golden sound. “Don’t sound so surprised Jill. You’re ready. You’ve proven that. Jill, you are an amazing girl, bright and intelligent and personable – a real star. I know I’ve told you this a hundred times but you have the potential to go anywhere you want to go. And cheerleading will help you get there. You’re a senior now, and it’s time I trusted you as much as everyone else around here.”
Jill sat up straighter. “I won’t let you down Ms. Williams. You know this squad means everything to me.”
“I know, and I understand like no one else around here does,” she said with another smile. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
“Jenni what’s the matter?” Jill closed her locker and began walking down the hall toward the courtyard. “Is it because it’s a playoff game? You know the guys are doing really well and that they’ve beat this team before. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“No. I mean, yes, of course I’m concerned about the team; we all want them to get to state so bad. No…I’m nervous about the pyramids.”
“Jenni listen to me carefully,” Jill’s voice low, but intense. “No one is going to get hurt. No one. I promise.”
“But how can…”
“No one.”
Jenni stared at Jill. Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly assumed her mask, sealing away any thoughts or doubts or emotions.
“I guess that’s all I needed to hear,” she said.“See you tomorrow.”
Jill watched Jenni walk out the door, noting that Jenni’s jeans had gotten a little tight over the past few months; maybe it was time to have another nutrition session at one of their practices. Jill gave herself a shake. No matter. She had more important things to think about than Jenni’s weight. She pushed open the door, but instead of heading out to the student parking she turned toward the gym and Ms. Williams office.
“We may have a small problem,” she said, sitting down in one of the plush chairs in Ms. Williams’ office, oblivious to the figure in the corner. Even Ms. Williams had forgotten that Scott was rewiring the outlet.
“Oh?” Ms. Williams’ perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. “I thought we were done with problems.”
“Well, the big ones yes, but one of the girls talked to me today and she’s pretty concerned that someone else is going to get hurt. I reassured her and I think she understood, but maybe we should take it easy for a while. Also,” she hesitated for a brief moment. “I think Jenni’s put on a little weight.”
Jill watched Ms. Williams closely, knowing that by making a suggestion she was taking a risk, especially a suggestion that amounted to “back off,.” But Ms. Williams surprised her by smiling.
“It’s so wonderful to see you taking ownership of this team,” she said, leaning forward in her leather chair. “Because you are out there with these girls every day I’m going to respect your judgment.”
“Really?”
Ms. Williams laughed, a light, golden sound. “Don’t sound so surprised Jill. You’re ready. You’ve proven that. Jill, you are an amazing girl, bright and intelligent and personable – a real star. I know I’ve told you this a hundred times but you have the potential to go anywhere you want to go. And cheerleading will help you get there. You’re a senior now, and it’s time I trusted you as much as everyone else around here.”
Jill sat up straighter. “I won’t let you down Ms. Williams. You know this squad means everything to me.”
“I know, and I understand like no one else around here does,” she said with another smile. “See you at practice tomorrow.”
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
...
Mrs. Peters had only gotten about a quarter of the way through her to-do stack, when she was interrupted again, this time by Teresa Williams.
“Teresa, hello.”
“Hi Mrs. Peters,” she said with a smile. Mrs. Peters always felt strange when Teresa Williams smiled; it was almost like what she imagined someone would look like if they were possessed. Not that Teresa wasn’t beautiful – her shiny blonde hair, big green eyes, and flawless skin were to be envied, not to mention her perfectly straight and white teeth. No, it was more that the smile only seemed to appear when Teresa was trying to get her way or convince someone to do something for her.
“Can I help you with something?” Mrs. Peters always felt it was best to just get right to the point, although in the kindest way possible.
“Actually, I was hoping to get my varsity girls excused early on Friday next week. It’s an off week for us, but I thought we might do a service project together; Open Arms Ministries is kicking off a food drive that day and I thought it would be a great thing for the girls to help with.”
“I’ll have to check with Mr. Walcott, but that doesn’t sound like it will be a problem.”
“Oh, I already checked, and he said it was fine.”
Mrs. Peters had a tough time keeping her pleasant face on. She tried to like everyone, but Teresa Williams really tried her patience sometimes. “Well, that’s good, but I’m still going to have to confirm that. Protocol you know.”
Teresa’s smile was a bit tight. “Fine. I’ll go ahead and get the ball rolling then.”
She was halfway out the door when Mrs. Peters’ ornery side got the better of her.
“I saw Missy and Stephanie today,” she said. “You must be really upset to lose another two cheerleaders, what with Andrea getting injured just a month ago.”
Teresa’s back stiffened and her chin rose slightly. “Yes, of course. It was a shame, but you know, these things happen. We have a couple of really dedicated junior varsity cheerleaders that I think area ready to move up. We’ll manage just fine.”
“How are the rest of the girls taking it?” Mrs. Peters pushed.
“Oh, they’re fine. Naturally, they are concerned about their friends, but they recognize the risks involved in cheer stunts.”
“Do you think that Missy and Stephanie might join you again for competition season?”
Teresa’s hard smile almost cracked, but years of performing held true. “I think they’ve made their decisions, and I don’t believe they’re coming back. Cheerleading isn’t really a good fit for everyone.”
“Teresa, hello.”
“Hi Mrs. Peters,” she said with a smile. Mrs. Peters always felt strange when Teresa Williams smiled; it was almost like what she imagined someone would look like if they were possessed. Not that Teresa wasn’t beautiful – her shiny blonde hair, big green eyes, and flawless skin were to be envied, not to mention her perfectly straight and white teeth. No, it was more that the smile only seemed to appear when Teresa was trying to get her way or convince someone to do something for her.
“Can I help you with something?” Mrs. Peters always felt it was best to just get right to the point, although in the kindest way possible.
“Actually, I was hoping to get my varsity girls excused early on Friday next week. It’s an off week for us, but I thought we might do a service project together; Open Arms Ministries is kicking off a food drive that day and I thought it would be a great thing for the girls to help with.”
“I’ll have to check with Mr. Walcott, but that doesn’t sound like it will be a problem.”
“Oh, I already checked, and he said it was fine.”
Mrs. Peters had a tough time keeping her pleasant face on. She tried to like everyone, but Teresa Williams really tried her patience sometimes. “Well, that’s good, but I’m still going to have to confirm that. Protocol you know.”
Teresa’s smile was a bit tight. “Fine. I’ll go ahead and get the ball rolling then.”
She was halfway out the door when Mrs. Peters’ ornery side got the better of her.
“I saw Missy and Stephanie today,” she said. “You must be really upset to lose another two cheerleaders, what with Andrea getting injured just a month ago.”
Teresa’s back stiffened and her chin rose slightly. “Yes, of course. It was a shame, but you know, these things happen. We have a couple of really dedicated junior varsity cheerleaders that I think area ready to move up. We’ll manage just fine.”
“How are the rest of the girls taking it?” Mrs. Peters pushed.
“Oh, they’re fine. Naturally, they are concerned about their friends, but they recognize the risks involved in cheer stunts.”
“Do you think that Missy and Stephanie might join you again for competition season?”
Teresa’s hard smile almost cracked, but years of performing held true. “I think they’ve made their decisions, and I don’t believe they’re coming back. Cheerleading isn’t really a good fit for everyone.”
Sunday, September 19, 2010
...
The next few weeks rolled along with no other unusual events at Eastbrook – classes began to dig deeper, the drama program began rehearsals for their fall play, the sports teams practiced and played, and Missy and Stephanie came back to school eager to get back into a normal routine.
“It’s so good to have you back,” Mrs. Peters smiled at the tiny blonde sitting on her couch. “How’s your back”
“Doing a lot better,” Missy said. “I’m off the prescription pain killers; just ibuprofen now. But I’m glad that it’s fall because I have such a wicked bruise. I totally could not be seen in a bathing suit right now.”
“Will you be back on the team in time for basketball season?” It was an innocent question Mrs. Peters thought, so she was shocked to see Missy completely shut down.
“Actually,” she said. “I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to be cheering any more this year. I think it’ll be better if I just take a break for a while. It keeps me pretty busy you know, and I’m taking photography next semester. I’ll probably be glad to have the extra time to spend shooting and stuff.”
“Well that’s great, dear,” Mrs. Peters said, pretending not to notice. “My daughter-in-law loves photography and I’m sure you’ll find it quite fun. Well, here you go.”
Mrs. Peters handed her the official “excused from all tests this week” letter and sent her back to class. Missy smiled – this time with her eyes as well – and waved as she walked out the door, long blond hair swinging.
Very interesting, Mrs. Peters thought. I wonder what Stephanie’s going to say.
“The choir has a pretty heavy concert schedule next semester,” Stephanie said, as her shoulders slumped uncharacteristically and she avoided Mrs. Peters’ eyes. “It’ll be better if I don’t have any conflicts and I’m not in any hurry to test out how my ankle will hold up to a landing.”
Mrs. Peters smiled to try and relax the girl a little. “I look forward to hearing some of those concerts,” she said. “The choir is extremely good this year.”
“Thanks,” Stephanie smiled and her posture unfolded a little. “Umm…I should probably get to class. Thanks for the note.”
Mrs. Peters shook her head after Stephanie left. Maybe she was reading too much into things, but she’d never seen three girls within two months be excited to be hurt and unable to participate in cheerleading. When Jenni McCormick had sprained her wrist last year she sat in Mrs. Peters office and cried every day until Ms. Williams let her back on the squad. Of course, Jenni had sprained her wrist on a ski trip. Maybe the girls this year were a little traumatized after being injured on the job so to speak.
“It’s so good to have you back,” Mrs. Peters smiled at the tiny blonde sitting on her couch. “How’s your back”
“Doing a lot better,” Missy said. “I’m off the prescription pain killers; just ibuprofen now. But I’m glad that it’s fall because I have such a wicked bruise. I totally could not be seen in a bathing suit right now.”
“Will you be back on the team in time for basketball season?” It was an innocent question Mrs. Peters thought, so she was shocked to see Missy completely shut down.
“Actually,” she said. “I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to be cheering any more this year. I think it’ll be better if I just take a break for a while. It keeps me pretty busy you know, and I’m taking photography next semester. I’ll probably be glad to have the extra time to spend shooting and stuff.”
“Well that’s great, dear,” Mrs. Peters said, pretending not to notice. “My daughter-in-law loves photography and I’m sure you’ll find it quite fun. Well, here you go.”
Mrs. Peters handed her the official “excused from all tests this week” letter and sent her back to class. Missy smiled – this time with her eyes as well – and waved as she walked out the door, long blond hair swinging.
Very interesting, Mrs. Peters thought. I wonder what Stephanie’s going to say.
“The choir has a pretty heavy concert schedule next semester,” Stephanie said, as her shoulders slumped uncharacteristically and she avoided Mrs. Peters’ eyes. “It’ll be better if I don’t have any conflicts and I’m not in any hurry to test out how my ankle will hold up to a landing.”
Mrs. Peters smiled to try and relax the girl a little. “I look forward to hearing some of those concerts,” she said. “The choir is extremely good this year.”
“Thanks,” Stephanie smiled and her posture unfolded a little. “Umm…I should probably get to class. Thanks for the note.”
Mrs. Peters shook her head after Stephanie left. Maybe she was reading too much into things, but she’d never seen three girls within two months be excited to be hurt and unable to participate in cheerleading. When Jenni McCormick had sprained her wrist last year she sat in Mrs. Peters office and cried every day until Ms. Williams let her back on the squad. Of course, Jenni had sprained her wrist on a ski trip. Maybe the girls this year were a little traumatized after being injured on the job so to speak.
Monday, August 16, 2010
...
“You ready to start moving?”
Mrs. Peters glanced at her clock as Scott Cook walked in her office.
“Is it one o’clock already? Monday’s always do fly away from me.”
Scott settled back on her faded couch with a sigh “Well, if you aren’t quite ready,” he said, grinning, “I don’t mind waiting.”
Mrs. Peters laughed, “Don’t get too comfortable on that couch, Scott.”
“Did you make it to the game this weekend?” Scott asked as Mrs. Peters finished boxing up a few books.
“Sure did. Quite exciting wasn’t it?”
“I guess that’s one word for it.”
After a few moments, Mrs. Peters straightened. “Well, I think I’m ready.”
“I’ll get started with your computer then.”
Scott had been working for about 30 minutes when Mrs. Peters stopped him. “Here,” she said, handing him a 20 oz. Dr. Pepper. “You need a break before you start with the book cases.”
“I won’t say no to a Dr. Pepper break,” Scott said with a smile and a thank you as he took the drink.
“Can I ask you a question,” Scott said after a minute.
“Of course.”
“Do you sense anything weird at all about what happened Friday with the accident at the game, or is it just my imagination?”
Mrs. Peters glanced out of her door before she answered. “Honestly…yes. Especially after sitting through the game with Andrea. She had a very unique perspective on the cheer squad; and to being on the sidelines. She's just not upset about it at all. And even more surprising, neither are the other girls who got injured."
Scott raised his eyebrows. "I thought they loved cheerleading. All those girls seem pretty...committed," he said.
Mrs. Peters smiled, "Committed is certainly one way to put it. Andrea threw around a very interesting phrase too…cheer Nazi.”
Scott started laughing. “That’s hysterical. Cheer Nazi. So who was she talking about?”
“Jill and Ms. Williams.”
"That sure fits with a conversation I heard this morning." Scott briefly retold the confrontation between Ms. Williams and Coach Ryan. When he was done, Mrs. Peters shook her head.
"Something about this whole situation with the accident just seems off somehow, even more than the tragedy of two girls being injured during a football game. But I feel like I'm overreacting, and I just can't place my finger on what it is that's bothering me."
"How did Andrea break her foot, again?" Scott asked after a moment of silence.
Mrs. Peters cocked her head. "You know, I don't really know, Scott," she said.
Scott downed the last of his Dr. Pepper and stood up to finish his work. "I wonder if it was related to any cheering activity," he said. "Two injured cheerleaders is sad, but could be a coincidence. Three is practically an epidemic."
"I think I may try to have a chat with Andrea this week," Mrs. Peters said.
Mrs. Peters glanced at her clock as Scott Cook walked in her office.
“Is it one o’clock already? Monday’s always do fly away from me.”
Scott settled back on her faded couch with a sigh “Well, if you aren’t quite ready,” he said, grinning, “I don’t mind waiting.”
Mrs. Peters laughed, “Don’t get too comfortable on that couch, Scott.”
“Did you make it to the game this weekend?” Scott asked as Mrs. Peters finished boxing up a few books.
“Sure did. Quite exciting wasn’t it?”
“I guess that’s one word for it.”
After a few moments, Mrs. Peters straightened. “Well, I think I’m ready.”
“I’ll get started with your computer then.”
Scott had been working for about 30 minutes when Mrs. Peters stopped him. “Here,” she said, handing him a 20 oz. Dr. Pepper. “You need a break before you start with the book cases.”
“I won’t say no to a Dr. Pepper break,” Scott said with a smile and a thank you as he took the drink.
“Can I ask you a question,” Scott said after a minute.
“Of course.”
“Do you sense anything weird at all about what happened Friday with the accident at the game, or is it just my imagination?”
Mrs. Peters glanced out of her door before she answered. “Honestly…yes. Especially after sitting through the game with Andrea. She had a very unique perspective on the cheer squad; and to being on the sidelines. She's just not upset about it at all. And even more surprising, neither are the other girls who got injured."
Scott raised his eyebrows. "I thought they loved cheerleading. All those girls seem pretty...committed," he said.
Mrs. Peters smiled, "Committed is certainly one way to put it. Andrea threw around a very interesting phrase too…cheer Nazi.”
Scott started laughing. “That’s hysterical. Cheer Nazi. So who was she talking about?”
“Jill and Ms. Williams.”
"That sure fits with a conversation I heard this morning." Scott briefly retold the confrontation between Ms. Williams and Coach Ryan. When he was done, Mrs. Peters shook her head.
"Something about this whole situation with the accident just seems off somehow, even more than the tragedy of two girls being injured during a football game. But I feel like I'm overreacting, and I just can't place my finger on what it is that's bothering me."
"How did Andrea break her foot, again?" Scott asked after a moment of silence.
Mrs. Peters cocked her head. "You know, I don't really know, Scott," she said.
Scott downed the last of his Dr. Pepper and stood up to finish his work. "I wonder if it was related to any cheering activity," he said. "Two injured cheerleaders is sad, but could be a coincidence. Three is practically an epidemic."
"I think I may try to have a chat with Andrea this week," Mrs. Peters said.
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