Page 5

But the fact that Kamryn was throwing out her annual evaluation? She definitely had more information than she’d let on in that all-staff meeting just ten minutes ago. She’dbeen prepared for this conversation, and she’d allowed the suddenness of this move to work to her advantage and to take Elia off guard, as if she’d known that Elia would be resistant to the idea.

“Dr. Sharpe.” Kamryn’s voice was firm but steady. The words weren’t angry—more a call to come back to the conversation at hand.

How long would it take for Kamryn to start calling her Elia?

“I don’t suppose there is another choice, is there?”

“There’s not,” Kamryn responded. “Except you stepping down from Speech entirely, but I can’t imagine you doing that.”

“Why not?” Elia asked before she could stop herself. What was it that Kamryn was seeing that she wasn’t? What was keeping her here and entertaining the ridiculous idea that she wasn’t capable of doing this on her own?

“Because when I was a student here, I was fairly convinced—along with many other students—that you loved the Speech team more than teaching English.” Kamryn folded her hands in her lap. “And the fact that you’re still leading the Speech team all these years later confirms that.”

“I’m also head of the English department.”

“You are.” Kamryn nodded. “And why aren’t you the assistant Head of School? Or better yet, Head of School all together? Surely, Dr. Waddy wasn’t chosen over you.”

Elia paused. She raised her chin up, eyeing Kamryn over carefully—perhaps even looking down her nose a little. What game was this woman playing? And she was a woman. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She’d changed in these twenty years, and Elia wasn’t sure she could see anything of the former student who had been mostly smiles, laughs, and burying her nose between the pages of more books than Elia managed to read in a year.

“You’re assuming that I applied when Miller was hired.” Elia barely resisted the urge to cross her arms. “And if you remember correctly, assumptions are deadly in debate.”

Kamryn paused at that, the reminder of where they had once been in terms of power and authority clearly uncomfortable for her. But Elia reveled in it. It put them back on the same footing, which was uneven at best. Two could play this game, and Elia was going to be just as prepared for it next time.

Because this war between them was only just beginning.

“I do remember,” Kamryn said slowly, keeping her voice steady as she locked her gaze on Elia’s. “I also remember that assumptions are necessary in debate. We have to anticipate where our opponent is going next with the argument. But, Dr. Sharpe, we’re not opponents. Are we?”

“I don’t know.” Elia hollowed her cheeks, ready to stand up and leave as soon as she got a chance. She needed to escape back to her office soon. “Are we?”

“I would hope not.” Kamryn’s brow knit together in concern. “Why would we be?”

Pushing back and standing, Elia grabbed her notebook off the table and pressed it against her chest. From here, she could stare down at Kamryn and have all the power in the conversation—at least that was what she was telling herself. “I’ll see you at the first Speech practice.”

“Sure,” Kamryn answered, staying put.

Nowthatwas a power move. And damn Kamryn for being the one to pull it. Elia pressed her molars into each other even harder than before, and she walked out of the room without looking back. She closed her eyes as soon as she reached the garden at the front of the administration building.

The jealousy that had gotten into her was beyond anything she’d experienced before, but Kamryn had been right. She’d wanted that position, for far longer than when Miller hadsuddenly left it open for the taking. She’d wanted to be Head of School from the moment she’d stepped foot on this campus, and it hadn’t been until last month that she’d had the temerity to even attempt to apply for it.

And Kamryn had no idea why.

That much was clear.

But damn her for bringing all of that up and more. Elia had been so open with her students in the beginning, allowing them to see her hopes and dreams just like they allowed her to see theirs. It had been codependent and wrong of her, and she’d since stopped that behavior, but where had that left her? She was still a damn good teacher, but she hadn’t worked toward those dreams she’d once held, and the one time she had, Kamryn had stolen it out from under her.

The cool air, a sure sign that fall was coming rapidly, refreshed her. Elia closed her eyes briefly to center herself before walking back to her office in the Social Sciences building. It was the smallest building on campus, but it had been her home for so long that she wasn’t sure she could live without it in her life in some manner.

Elia sat down at her desk and turned her computer back on. She stared at the sign-ups for Speech and at the schedule she’d already planned out. Adding in another adult would help, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, but it would also increase costs and she’d need to rework some of the rooming arrangements she’d already made.

She rubbed her hand against the back of her neck and immediately closed out of everything. Sadness swept through her.Yara. That had been the best and worst mistake of her life, hadn’t it? And she wasn’t ever going to be able to escape her past nor the promises she had made to herself so very long ago.

To become Head of School.

To be a damn good teacher.

To fall in love and have a family.

But she was getting closer to fifty every single year and none of that had really happened. She’d allowed her teaching to become stagnant. She couldn’t remember the last time that her name had been up on the favorite teachers lists that the students put together every semester. She wasn’t young or hip, and she didn’t have new ideas or energy for her lesson plans anymore.