Reading Buddies

Reading Buddies Penny Pentley Five Cents Publishing Copyright This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Penny Pentley Cover artwork by riocovers on Fiverr All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. ISBN: 979-8-9876498-0-0 (paperback) Published by Five Cents Publishing Dedication To my best teacher friend, Thanks for helping me keep my sanity in those first years of teaching (and for inspiring parts of this story). Chapter 1 The New JobJesus Christ, how did I end up here? Wait. I should stop using the term “Jesus Christ.” Can I get fired for that?I pull the contract—not contract, covenant—out from the protective sleeve and flip to the final page. “All Catholic school employees are expected to publicly model the traditions and practices of the Roman Catholic Church. This covenant may be terminated if the teacher’s lifestyle or conduct is found to go against Catholic moral teaching and values.” I wonder if using the Lord’s name in vain is considered conduct that goes against moral teaching…My boyfriend, Charlie, is putting the finishing touches on our coffees. One sugar and cream for him, two teaspoons of Ovaltine and a splash of milk for me. Don’t judge me. It has vitamins. He rests his chin on my shoulder as he sets down my oversized Disney mug. “What are you worrying about now?”I shrug him off. “I just know I’m going to mess this up. I’m going to do or say the wrong thing and then, boom. Fired.”“And then you can just sub again. We will be no worse off than we were last school year.” He wanders over to his laptop on the other side of our living space and parks himself there. He will probably not move until I return this afternoon. “It is just orientation, anyway. Just play the good Catholic girl from eight to three and then you can be your normal heathen-y self when you get home.”I sigh at the paper before tucking it back into its proper place. Last year I subbed nearly every day. I made good money, too. The public schools were so desperate for subs, there was almost always somewhere to go. There was even bonus money on the high-demand days that surrounded long weekends and holiday breaks. The problem with that was hardly ever knowing where I was going from day to day. I’d never see the same kids for more than a week at a time—and those full weeks were only if the teacher planned to be gone ahead of time. Most of the time, I would wake up at five in the morning to see which schools needed someone, then take whichever job was closest to home or my favorite lunch spots. Then I spend half an hour reading over the sub notes (if there even are any) and throw myself into the chaos of an elementary classroom without their captain.Some days were great. Everything was organized, the kids had solid routines that could be used by visiting teachers, and there was a clear plan of what I was expected to do for the day. Some days were complete shit. I won’t go into detail, but there was more than one teacher I had on my “do not take jobs for” list.Having my own class would be fantastic. Not only would I be able to see the same kids every day, watch them grow and learn, but I could help develop the procedures and routines. I could get to know what makes them tick—and I sure as hell would make sure to put in sub plans “watch out for this kid because he likes to kick.” I rubbed the part of my calf where the epic bruise had been. It was purple for an entire month.My eyes are drawn to the clock and I jolt upright, delicately taking one last pull of my coffee before grabbing my bag from the chair next to me, kissing Charlie on the cheek, and heading out the front door. I can't help but glance at his laptop. Page seven? Wasn’t he on page seven last week? It is going to be hard for him to make it as an author if he isn’t writing anything. Maybe he will make more progress with me out of the house again.I jump in the beater car we share and the radio blasts the classic rock station that Charlie likes. I turn the knob until it hits the Top 40 channel I prefer. We had an aux cord that went to the tape player at some point, but then the tape player broke. Now we are a radio couple.I drive by two public schools on the way. Both were supposed to have job openings this year. I made sure to stay up to date with the rumor mills at each of them. I even subbed for two of the teachers who were retiring this year. Fortunately and unfortunately, the teachers' unions negotiated higher salaries, which meant they had to merge classes to keep on budget. As teachers left, they just shifted the students that were supposed to be theirs into the other classes at that grade level. The few jobs that opened were filled by people with decades of experience. I couldn’t even get an interview.I was able to manage an interview for the local Catholic school, though. I’d gone to Catholic school growing up, a nice little K-8 just like this one, but after I left for high school, I never stepped foot in a church again, save for the occasional wedding or funeral. After doing a quick refresher on my catechism and locating my baptism and confirmation certificates, I rocked the interview with the principal