Page 2 of Promises We Meant to Keep (Love in Massachusetts #1)

two

“When’s the last time you worked with a co-leader on Speech?” Kamryn settled her notepad down in front of her as she seemed to melt into her seat.

The muscles strained at the corners of Elia’s jaw as she clenched her molars hard. She’d never gotten out of that habit no matter how many times she’d attempted to drop it, and in the last month, it’d been far worse.

As soon as Miller Waddy had his stroke, Elia had put her name in for the position to help fill the gaps until he could return. The board had allowed her to live in the silence of no response for three weeks until they hired a temporary but longer-term replacement.

That had stung.

She’d given and devoted her life to this school. And to add salt to the wound, they’d hired her former student, who certainly didn’t have as much experience as she did. Kamryn Ogden was a sight for sore eyes, however. She’d certainly grown up in the last twenty years since she’d graduated.

Was Kamryn just as nervous as Elia about this conversation? She hadn’t seemed to be when she’d started it.

“It’s been five years.”

“Five…” Kamryn blew out a breath and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair.

It used to be lighter in color, probably from spending so much time outside in the summers. Elia had found Kamryn reading books under the sugar maples more times than she could count. But now Kamryn’s hair was dark, and she’d gained weight, not just in her body but in her cheeks, which were much fuller now than they had been.

“Do you realize how dangerous that is?” Kamryn straightened her back a little, pressing her palm into the table. “Not just for the kids, but for you.”

“It’s how it’s always been.” Elia clenched her fist under the table. She didn’t want to be dealing with this, not now. If she couldn’t be the replacement for Miller while he was out and couldn’t be trusted with even that small amount of power, then why would she ever consider allowing Kamryn to walk all over her? She wouldn’t.

“You and I both know that’s a lie.”

Elia shuddered, but she managed to contain it to where she didn’t think that Kamryn saw. Because Kamryn was right. It hadn’t always been that way, she’d just used that excuse for years because it was how she’d managed to get out of having a co-leader. And she hated that Kamryn was so easily calling her out on that.

“Dr. Howard co-led with you when I was on the team.”

Elia’s lips thinned and the muscles in her jaw tightened even more. “Yes, she did.”

“And wasn’t there a parent volunteer, too? At least for when we were traveling.” Kamryn scratched the side of her head before shaking it. “I can’t remember her name.”

Elia sure as hell wasn’t going to fill in that blank for her. The last thing she wanted on the face of the planet was to remember that woman. Well, in all honesty, Yara hadn’t been the problem at all, but that situation had nearly ended Elia’s career.

And it was why Elia never wanted to work with a co-leader again, even though it was also the perfect example of why she needed one. But Kamryn didn’t know anything about that, and Elia was determined to keep it that way. The last thing she needed was for her history to come up and bite her in the ass again, especially while she was still hoping the board had a short enough memory to potentially give her the Head of School position should Miller not return.

“Mrs. Cole!” Kamryn smacked her hand lightly on the edge of the table. “What was her first name?”

“Yara,” Elia mumbled, closing in on herself even more.

“Right. Anyway, you need a co-leader, or the Speech team won’t be happening this year.”

“What?” Elia stilled, her heart thudding hard. Kamryn was pulling out the big guns for this one, wasn’t she? Pushing her weight around when she hadn’t even been here long enough to take a breath.

“I’m serious, Dr. Sharpe. It needs to happen. Like I said earlier, it’s for your protection as much as the students. We don’t need anything untoward happening.”

Did she know? Panic rose in Elia’s chest, trying to claw its way out, but she managed to keep it locked away, at least for now. “I understand what you’re saying.”

“Good. And since no one volunteered this morning, I’ll do it.”

“No.” Elia was going to put her foot down on this one. She didn’t need administrative supervision to run the Speech team, something she had been doing for over two decades now. She wouldn’t put herself through that.

“Then the Speech team won’t exist this year.”

“The meets are already booked.” Elia looked straight into Kamryn’s dark brown eyes. “I’m not going to cancel an entire season for our students, especially the seniors who are looking for scholarships to college.”

“Then we’re agreed.” Kamryn leaned back in the chair, a smug smile gracing her full lips.

“No, we’re not in agreement.”

“Then no Speech team.”

“Kamryn!” Elia’s voice rose along with her anger, and she couldn’t hide it this time. She wasn’t going to play this back-and-forth game. “You don’t have the authority to do this.”

“Actually, I do, and it’s by the board’s direction. This is a safety issue, nothing else. And if no one else on staff will join you, then I will. I think it’ll be nice to dip my toes back into the competition world. Giving my own lectures every week gets a bit tedious. A challenge would be nice.”

Elia’s mind spun. How could this possibly be happening? She didn’t need her former student to watch over her like she was a new teacher who was going to screw everything up. If this came down from the board, it might just be further punishment for what had happened eighteen years ago. But it shouldn’t be. That was done and over with. She’d been proven innocent so many times over.

But stigmas were real. And she’d never be able to escape this one, would she?

“In your last evaluation with Dr. Waddy, he suggested that you spend the summer finding a co-leader. It seems you didn’t do that.” Kamryn stared directly at her.

Elia had been filleted open and laid bare. She couldn’t do this. It was worse than eighteen years ago almost, and only because this was Kamryn—her former student who had taken the job that she deserved. And hell yes, she deserved it.

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’d been 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.

Now that was 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 had suddenly 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.

Working with a former student?

Not only that, but having her former student be her new boss?

Maybe it was time for her to give up and retire.

It definitely called out her age, even if Kamryn had been one of the first students she’d taught. Elia had started at Windermere the year before Kamryn had, and she’d taken over Speech that second year. Not that Kamryn would remember or know that.

This wasn’t a sign that she was old and decrepit, was it?

Elia wrinkled her nose at that thought. She’d never admit to that. Ever. But she would admit to the jealousy that was still raging through her chest and down into her fingers. The fact that the one time she had taken the chance to apply for a position she was most certainly qualified for, and she hadn’t even been given a chance?

Yeah, that stung.

But it was far worse knowing that Kamryn was in that position now.

Cursing herself under her breath, Elia pulled up her lesson plans for the first week of school. It was routine and habit to go through them even though they hadn’t changed in at least twelve years now. At least not in any major ways. Without holding back, Elia poured her entire focus into the task at hand—teaching her students.

That was what she’d been hired for, wasn’t it?

She just had to make it through this semester until Miller was back. Then everything would be back to normal, and she wouldn’t have to deal with Kamryn any longer.