I (Fake) Do

Chapter 1

Shayla

     At the start of each new school year, I always have the same thought: if only the kids knew.

     They’d be shocked that their teachers, principals, and guidance counselors – this one included – feel the same nervousness they do when they all come back after the summer break.

     Those nerves only get worse when you’re starting in a brand new school. I think that means, mathematically, that I’m more nervous than any kid at Holly Brookes Comprehensive School. Though math was never my strong suit.

     I adjust my employee badge and take a deep breath in.

     This is it, Shayla. The day you start changing these kids’ lives.

     In reality, it’s more likely that they’ll change mine. They always do.

     In an hour, these halls will be teeming with children. Now though, walking to my office, the echo of my high heels makes me feel self-conscious.

     “Shayla!” exclaims Pamela Thompson, the director of guidance and my immediate supervisor. She greets me with a big bear hug. “I haven’t seen you since our last interview. It’s so good for you to finally be here. Welcome to Holly Brookes!”

  It’s the warmest welcome I’ve had at any school so far. Maybe the warmest welcome I’ve had, period. A childhood spent in the Oakland foster system prepares you to feel about as welcome as fruit flies hovering around a trash can. But I can feel how grateful they are to have me at Holly Brookes already.

         More faces appear over Pamela’s shoulder before I can respond to her sweet greeting. I hardly have time to feel nervous about more first impressions before everyone’s falling into step with me as I walk to my office.

     “We have a big ‘welcome back’ spread. Eat up! We went a little overboard. I’m Rebecca, one of the co-counselors. We’re so glad you’re here.”

     “I’m so glad to be here. You’ve made me feel so welcome already,” I say.

     “And I’m Heather. Nice to meet you, Shayla! We heard such good things from people at your last school. I’m a counselor slash social worker. You know how it is, all of us wearing more hats than we can count.”

     “Like that picture book, Caps for Sale, with the huge tower of hats on his head,” Pamela says with a laugh.

     “You monkeys, you! Gimme back my caps!” Rebecca calls out, quoting the story. “Sorry, working with kids…you know…you get a little crazy.”

     “Oh, I definitely know,” I say with an easy grin. “Especially as a counselor, you need a sense of humor. Otherwise, the job can get so heavy. I mean, that’s how I got through my own –“

     I stop myself. I don’t want to overwhelm them with my own past on the first day. It can change people’s opinions of you. Either they see you as being irreparably damaged, or they start walking on eggshells, and I’ve always been determined to forge my own identity.

     “So, Shayla, first things first,” Pamela says, dropping a thick pile of manila folders on my desk. “You’ll review the files on the individual kids, to get a sense of the student body. It’ll be good to start before the kids get in. Before the chaos begins.”

     “I can’t wait to dive in, Pamela,” I say genuinely. “I just want to tell you I’m so happy to be here. I was excited even before today, but now it already feels like home.”

     “I’m thrilled to hear that,” Pamela says. “We’re so happy, too.”

     A half-hour later when the students are about to come in, I’ve gotten through all but three files. I’ve always had the ability to read super quickly but still catch everything.

     When the school doors open, a roar of student voices and the clatter of slamming lockers immediately fill the building. We step out in the hallway to welcome the students back.

     Ten minutes later, everything is quiet again, but the sense of excitement and anticipation lingers in the air. The feeling of possibility.

     After a few minutes, there’s a knock on our open door. A towering man with longish brown hair strides in, followed by a put-together blonde woman in a power suit. Principal Avery Cross and Vice Principal Caroline King.

     The other counselors look like they’re witnessing a Greek god in their presence.

     “Good morning, Mr. Cross, Ms. King. It’s so good to see you,” Pamela says effusively. “You know Rebecca and Heather, of course. And this is our newest addition to the counseling team, Shayla Davis.”

     Principal Cross is so tall I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. They’re a soft amber color, like honeyed cognac. They take my breath away.

     “I’m so pleased to see you,” Mr. Cross says. “And you, Ms. Davis. Welcome to our school. I think you’ll like it here. And I think you’ll be an incredible asset, based on your reputation for professionalism and all the experience you bring, per your personnel file. I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

     There’s keen interest revealed in his deep voice. He looks at me intently, like I’m the only person there. My voice flutters, and I realize I’m pinching my palm.

     “Thank you, Principal Cross, for your kind words. I’m looking forward to working with you, too,” I say. “And Vice Principal King, you as well. The counseling team has given me such a warm welcome.”

     “The counseling team is great, aren’t they?” Ms. King says. "I think it’s going to be a great year. So, Avery and I just wanted to stop in and say hello before a conference call with the superintendent. Was great talking to you all.”

     As they make their exit, Principal Cross turns his head to look at me one more time before disappearing around the doorway.  His eyes penetrate down to my core.

     “I think you have an admirer, Counselor Shayla,” Rebecca says once they leave.

     “I think he’s just happy to have an extra set of hands. That they happen to be mine, well…” I shrug my shoulders and make a show of returning to my work, shuffling the papers on my desk.

     “Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that,” Rebecca says.

     I roll my eyes.

     But I can’t stop thinking about Mr. Cross’s almond-colored eyes. I hear his rich bass in my head saying my name, telling me he read my files. Heat rushes to my cheeks.

     It’s the first day at a new school. Am I attracted to the principal?

     It’ll be an interesting year, that’s for sure.