The Coffee Spill |Demi Lovato|

Chapter 60

Written 2015

Revised May 2021

*Ellie's POV*

"Ellie, do you have a minute?" Andrea asks from across the school lobby. I adjust my bag that is hanging off my shoulder, nodding. I follow her into her office.

"Please, sit." She motions to the chair in front of her desk. I place my bag on the carpet between my feet, sitting down, letting my back gently rest against the back of the seat.

"When you signed your contract, it was for a temporary position until Mrs. Bailey returned from maternity leave at the beginning of next semester." I nod my head in understanding.

"Over the weekend, she turned in her letter of resignation. She found an at-home job to spend more time with her newborn daughter." She turns around in her office chair, pulling a short stack of papers from her file cabinet before turning back around, tossing the papers on the desk in front of me. "No one connects with these kids as you do. We would love for you to work here, full time."

I pick up the stack of papers on the desk. It's a new contract for full-time employees. "Please, read the contract and benefits packet. Let me know before the school year ends if you would like to stay full-time."

I'm at a loss for words. Words hitch in the back of my throat, unable to form a sentence, expressing my gratitude. All I'm able to get out is a stuttering "Oh my god. Thank you," as I shove the papers into my bag before fumbling with the straps of the bag as I swing it over my shoulder. I mutter another 'thank you' to Andrea before exiting her office, then through the double doors of the school. A smile creeps upon my lips as the realization that my dreams and plans are all coming together. I'm marrying the love of my life. My mother is in my life again. Isabella is in my life again. And now a full-time teaching position.

After a quick drive home that was spent blasting music from my self-confidence playlist, keeping my energy and excitement at an all-time high to tell Demi the good news, I am welcomed home to an empty house, Demi's car missing from the garage. I check the calendar in the studio, mentally slapping myself at forgetting about the meeting with Phil that's been on the calendar for weeks. The meeting with Phil is a quick check-in to see how Demi's writing is going for the next album. The last time we talked about music, four songs were complete, two were almost complete. She didn't think it was enough, especially for Phil's standards, but I tried to reassure her he should understand how demanding wedding planning is. Demi appreciated the reassurance, but still worried it wasn't enough to please Phil.

Demi's meeting was four hours ago. She should have been back by now. As I make my way back to the living room, I hear the interior garage door open, then a few seconds later slam shut.

"Demi?" I ask, rushing to the hallway. Demi is speed walking through the hallway, fists squeezed into tight balls around the car keys, teeth clenched and chest visibly rising and falling with each deep breath.

"They said I'm bad publicity," Demi yells through gritted teeth, walking past me and into the kitchen.

"They what?" 

Demi chugs a bottle of water, letting a few droplets of water run down her chin. "I thought I was going there for a standard writing check-in. Boy, was I wrong? It was like a fucking intervention!" She yells, making me take a step back. Demi acknowledges her tone of voice and my response. She puts her hands on her head, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"When I got there Phil and a few others were there sitting at a big round table like it was a monthly corporate meeting. They said they don't want my lifestyle choices to ruin their image of 'the perfect role models for teenagers' so they ended my contract." Demi's voice is still full of rage.