Lane Assignments

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Friday of the following week...

Wanda makes an ominous grinding sound, letting off a little puff of black smoke, as I ease her into one the visitor spots in front of Bellevue High School at just before nine in the morning. I love my little slug bug, but I know that her days are numbered. I really need this job!

I tug at my navy blazer and adjust my gold-colored purse as I walk into the school, checking to make sure my French twist is in place. I hope that I at least look like I'm oozing school spirit and confidence. My interview is with Mr. Hobbes, the school principal. When they called me to schedule the interview, I requested that Mr. Grey not be present. I explained that I was a former student of his, and that I would prefer a completely objective and unbiased interview. The secretary assured me that Mr. Grey would be out of the building, at a district-wide athletics meeting, this morning.

I'm ushered into a small office behind the main reception desk at the school... the principal's office. It's not like I ever did anything to warrant being sent to the principal's office while I was in school, but it still gives me a little rush of nerves.

Mr. Hobbes, a wiry, middle-aged man, gives me a firm handshake and invites me to sit in one of the chairs facing his desk. I catch a glimpse of his name plate as I sit. Calvin Hobbes, Principal. Really? Calvin Hobbes? There's a tiny stuffed tiger sitting on the desk next to it, a testament to his good humor about his name. Yep, he's heard it before.

I spend nearly an hour rattling on about teaching methods, my views on English literature, my coaching strategies, my athletic career...

Mr. Hobbes just sits there the whole time with a bemused expression on his face. I can't tell if he's listening to me or... wondering what he's going to order for lunch. By the end of my monologue, I'm convinced that they must already have a candidate in mind. That he was just hearing me out to meet some sort of interview quota. I take a deep breath and feel the weight of my disappointment drop into my gut. This was too good to be true.

"Is there anything else?" I ask, and I can hear my voice start to waver. I just want to get out of here.

He straightens in his chair, steeples his fingers under his chin. "No, I think that about covers it. You're a legend around here, you know."

"Umm, excuse me?"

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw your application come through. Anastasia Steele... star athlete, Olympic hopeful, emphasis on English literature... and star of Coach Grey's bulletin board. He practically has a shrine to you in his office."

Oh. Well, so much for keeping things objective and unbiased.

Mr. Hobbes offers me the job on the spot, inviting me to come watch the Lady Wolverines' last track meet this afternoon. He asks me to consider his offer over the weekend, and to come fill out paperwork - assuming that I accept - on Monday. I am walking back out of the school, my head spinning, at just after 10:00. Whew!

=/=/=/=

Keeping my sunglasses on and my chin down, I follow the asphalt path to the track. It's almost 4:00, time for the meet to begin. I can hear the announcer calling for the 4x800 relay, which is the first event in every high school meet. I can feel the butterflies as I step onto the track, ready to kick things off. Toes on the line... face forward... eyes on the prize... and GO!

Everything about this school district screams money and, if I'm not mistaken, football. The track is gorgeous, bright gold with a navy blue infield. And shiny, black-and-white hurdles with Wolverines written across them in navy script. Wait a minute... you can't run a 4x800 relay with hurdles in the home stretch! What were they thinking?