Page 9 of Promises We Meant to Keep (Love in Massachusetts #1)

nine

Kamryn checked her calendar and frowned at it. When had that additional Speech team meet been scheduled? She barely had time to get there with the ethics meeting that was starting in three minutes. Those few minutes of respite that Kamryn had managed to find right before the last Speech meeting were the first ones she’d found in weeks.

Her head was spinning with all the responsibility.

Grabbing her notebook and pen, Kamryn walked directly to the conference room. Heather was already in there with Susy Butkis, the board chair. Heather was bent over the table, talking quietly in hushed tones. The tension in the room skyrocketed as soon as Kamryn walked in.

There was no mistaking that. As soon as Heather eyed her, she immediately stopped talking. Something about this didn’t feel right.

“Afternoon,” Kamryn said, sitting down next to Susy, hoping to keep some space between her and Heather. What were they doing here? This might be the hardest thing she had done so far since taking on this job. It felt that ominous.

Like an ambush.

“How have you been?” Kamryn asked, trying to make small talk in order to ease the tension that was growing in her chest.

“Good,” Heather answered quickly.

Kamryn had forgotten how she’d always seemed to have a permanent sneer on her face, her bleached blonde hair just adding to the look, especially when she pulled it back so tight and slicked it to make it look like a helmet.

Susy put her hand on top of a stack of folders and looked each of them over.

“We need to rebuild the ethics team. We’ve been remiss in getting it together and keeping it functioning, but one of the goals for this school year was to rebuild it—from scratch up if we had to.”

Kamryn kept her mouth shut. She agreed that the board needed an ethics review committee, not only to make sure that everyone working on campus was up to date in their background checks and certifications and continuing education, but also for when there were issues. And as much as she would like to believe that there wouldn’t be issues, she wasn’t an idiot. There were always problems somewhere.

“I thought we’d start with reviewing past cases to see if they are up to snuff .”

Kamryn managed to hold back any facial reactions, keeping her surprise from the room. “Wouldn’t it be a better idea to review the processes and procedures that we already have in place and see where they need improvement, while also trying to maintain and work toward resolution of open issues?”

“There aren’t any open issues,” Susy returned.

“At least none that have been formally reported,” Heather added. “Not that there aren’t some that should be reported.” She muttered the last part under her breath, but it was loud enough for Kamryn to hear.

“So you want to go through old violations?” Kamryn frowned now, wanting to understand exactly what was happening.

“Yes.” Susy grinned. “It’ll be the best way to understand what we should be doing and how.”

Not necessarily. Kamryn didn’t respond though, because she wasn’t sure what to say to that. Susy opened up the first file and slid a binder-clipped stack of papers to each of them. One quick glance told Kamryn that everyone had copies of whatever she’d handed out.

Kamryn finally looked down at the top page.

Echoes of misconduct littered the pages, going back decades. Kamryn briefly glanced through them finding page after page. Susy had sliced open Windermere and let it bleed out on the table right in front of them.

Kamryn wasn’t an idiot. She knew there were problems. Having them in black and white in front of her hurt. Some of these cases went back to when she was a student.

“Some of these reports were handled well and some weren’t. Let’s start with the most recent one.”

The buzzing in her head was so loud that she barely heard the question she asked. “Do we need to create procedures or are there any that we can follow?”

“We’re doing an audit of the complaints at the school.” Heather eyed Kamryn carefully. “We want to be transparent with all of our faculty and staff so that when parents complain—and they will complain—we know what we’ll need to protect and what we’ll need to drop.”

Kamryn knew without a doubt that drop meant termination. Were they after someone in particular?

“I think we need to have a teacher on this committee, someone who can help represent the other staff and faculty and help us put these procedures in place.” Kamryn was still skimming through the reams of paper that she’d been handed. It was information overwhelm at best. “I’d suggest Elia Sharpe.”

“No,” Susy answered sharply.

Kamryn froze at that. Her shoulders tensed, the muscles tightening to the point of pain. “No?”

“Elia wouldn’t make a good member of this team.” Susy’s voice couldn’t be more patronizing.

There was no way Kamryn was going to win this one. She wasn’t even sure what battle she was fighting. Was this a witch hunt? She’d thought they’d just been jerks by not giving Elia an interview, or that perhaps there was a reasonable explanation because they couldn’t do without a teacher and losing a head of a department when they were already down so many administrative team members.

But this…

Kamryn was floored. Susy was pushing Elia out, and Kamryn had no idea for what. Did any of them actually know? Her heart hammered. Her throat closed up. And she was at a complete loss for words. She needed more information. And she was desperate for it now.

“Is there a faculty member you would suggest?” Kamryn finally asked.

Heather blanched. “It’s your job to fill the position.”

She had pointed the comment at Kamryn. But Kamryn didn’t know the faculty well enough yet, and she certainly didn’t know who was doing what and who might have the time or the ability. The ethics team wasn’t where you wanted just anybody.

“I still think that Elia Sharpe would be the perfect person for the role. She teaches Speech and Debate, which involves an incredible amount of ethics and discussion of ethics. And she’s very good at reading documents and finding what’s missing or where the loopholes are.”

“She’s not the person for this role,” Susy said so matter-of-factly that Kamryn knew the conversation was ended.

She’d been shut down. And she hadn’t even had a chance to figure out what pile of shit she’d stepped in. Kamryn was sick to her stomach. This wasn’t a place for her to have a voice. That much was clear. But she didn’t find that an acceptable answer.

They continued down the litany of mistakes that had been made at Windermere Prep.

Reading through the information was enough to make Kamryn want to leave the room and throw up, to hand in her resignation effective immediately. This job was bigger than she’d anticipated. She’d never thought it was this bad, that there were this many complaints to sift through.

That couldn’t be real, could it?

Miller Waddy had been slacking on the job for a long time. Most of the complaints filed were in the last five years, although there were some dating back decades. Kamryn could only assume that those were for teachers still at the school because otherwise, why would they matter? Which severely limited the number of people who it could be.

Fuck , she thought.

She just had to figure out a plan of action. And her go-to was to talk to Elia, but she was going to have to leave Elia as far out of this one as possible because there was something beyond hinky going on with Susy, Heather, and Elia.

By the time the meeting was done, Kamryn was livid and overwhelmed. More than she had been in the last few weeks of taking on this job at a last minute’s notice. She slipped the file into her satchel and ushered them out of the room as soon as she could with their next meeting set up. Glancing at her watch told her that she was already late for the Speech team meeting—in fact, it was nearly over—and she was pretty sure that Elia would survive the rest of it.

Kamryn needed Greer.

With her cellphone in her hand, she called her best friend.

“Pick up. Please pick up the phone.”

“What’s up?”

“Thank God.” The words rushed from Kamryn’s lips, and she flopped down in the chair in her office only to immediately stand up again. Energy burst through her in small waves, and there was nothing she could do to control it. She had to talk this out with someone.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t talk much in details…” Kamryn paused. What could she actually say? “How many times did you watch Mean Girls when it was released?”

Greer laughed. “You’re asking me about a movie? Fuck, I thought you were having a panic attack.”

Kamryn had been pretty darn close to that. And just the sound of Greer’s voice calmed her down. She loved that her best friend could have that effect on her. “Yeah. I am asking that.”

“O…kay. I do remember the movie. I watched it a few times.” Greer sounded suspicious now, and Kamryn didn’t blame her. It was an odd turn of a conversation, but this was the only way she could say what she wanted to say without actually revealing confidential information. Greer would understand that, eventually. They had a shorthand most of the time that years of friendship had given them.

“Good. That’s the meeting I just came from. Exactly that. Mean girls out to get nice girls.” Kamryn winced. “Well, maybe it’s mean girls out to get mean girls. I don’t know. I don’t even know where to begin. I feel like I’m caught in the middle of a war I didn’t even know was happening.”

“Kam.” The pity was nearly too much.

Kamryn’s eyes watered, stinging from the tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Take deep breaths. Remember? I tell you that all the time. You’re shit at it.”

That elicited a laugh. This was exactly why Kamryn had called her. Greer would know what to say. “I’m taking deep breaths.”

“Are you?”

“Well, now I am.” Kamryn groaned. “I don’t like this. It makes me nervous. I’m only here for a semester, and then I’m gone. I have a chance to make really good changes, but this one might be bigger than something I can handle in a few short months.”

“What’s the problem even?”

“Mean girls, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

Kamryn ran her hand through her hair and tugged sharply. She was so ready to pull her hair out over this one. And she was pretty sure that she was going to feel this way more as soon as she dug deeper into it.

“You missed practice.”

Kamryn spun around, her heart in her throat.

“Elia.”

“Elia?” Greer echoed. “Your girlfriend ?”

“I’ll call you later, Greer.” Kamryn hung up without even looking at her phone and settled her phone onto the desk. What the hell was she supposed to say? “I was stuck in a meeting.”

Elia’s face hardened, and Kamryn couldn’t read her. “You insisted on co-leading Speech.”

“I insisted that you have a co-leader,” Kamryn corrected. “That could have been me or someone else, but I’m still temporary Head of School, and I have other responsibilities.”

“So do I.” Elia’s hands clenched at her sides.

Kamryn watched her carefully. Everything inside her told her to tell Elia what had just happened in the meeting, but she couldn’t. She had to bite her tongue and keep it all inside, because she couldn’t talk about it. Not until she knew what was going on.

“I promise you I don’t mean to shirk my responsibilities,” Kamryn said, looking directly into those cool blue eyes. “I promise you that.”

Something crossed Elia’s gaze, changing and morphing, but Kamryn couldn’t place it with an emotion. She couldn’t figure out what it was. Elia remained where she was, her hands still clenched at her sides.

“And I promise you that if you don’t step up for these kids, if you don’t show up for them, then you’re going to wish you’d never taken this job.” Elia’s words had a bite. They stung.

It was a promise that Kamryn knew Elia would keep.

Kamryn wanted to collapse. She was tired of holding herself up, of being this strong and put together person that she didn’t feel like she was. She’d never been that person, no matter how many times she told herself she was.

“Elia…” Kamryn was on the verge of breaking.

“Don’t miss practice on Friday. We have a mock meet coming up, and I would hate for the team not to be ready because you can’t be present for them.” Elia’s stare was so cold.

Kamryn had never seen her like this. Completely closed off from everything in the room. Who had Elia Sharpe become in the intervening years? “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Elia turned on her toes and walked out of Kamryn’s office.

Sighing heavily, Kamryn walked around to her chair and collapsed into it. She pressed her forearms into the desk and rested her forehead on the cold wood. She needed a break. A good break, one that would reset her brain and her heart, because everything was getting so confused.

Was she good at anything?