Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  “You’re right.”

  “And if he is there, you better tell me right away so I can get my ass on a plane and plant my foot on his face.” Her words cause the tension within me to dissolve into laughter.

  When I finally stop laughing, I say to her, “I love you.”

  “Same here, girl. Same here.”

  “I’m going to be so much farther from you now,” I complain.

  “Distance has never kept us away before,” she reminds me. That’s true. We went to colleges in different states but managed to keep our friendship going despite the hundreds of miles in between. We got together as often as we could. We vented to each other. We Skyped and Facetimed. Even from afar, she comforted me while I cried myself to sleep every night for weeks.

  Because of him.

  “How long till you’re there?” she asks.

  “I just left, so basically I’ve got about six hours.” Not long enough.

  “Great. Well, I’ve gotta go get ready for this meeting. Message me once you get in and get settled and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  “Alright.”

  “And, Amari?”

  “Yes?”

  “Remember you’re stronger than you think.”

  “I know, I know.” I hang up and blast some music as I drive to the place I brokenly drove away from six years ago. I let the music drown out my thoughts, afraid if I don’t my thoughts will eventually drown me.

  3

  AMARI

  I park the car, shake off the nerves, and open the driver side door. The house looks the same. The same green door. The old swing on the porch. The welcome mat. It’s like nothing’s changed. Like being the operative word.

  I will my feet to move. I don’t bother to take my belongings out of the car. Instead, I close the distance toward my front door and let myself into my childhood home. Half of me expects my parents to meet me on the other side of this, but I know they won’t.

  I instantly turn on the light and take in all the surroundings. The house opens up to the living room, which I find is still furnished. My parents must’ve paid someone to clean it because it smells amazing in here. They were excited to know I was coming back to what we called home for many years, so I’m sure they wanted me to just come in and not worry about much.

  I walk around the entire house, letting the memories guide me through every room.

  “You’re headed back home?” I recall my mother squealing through the phone as I told her about the offer.

  “She’s coming here?” my dad shouted from the background.

  “No no. She’s going back to Forest Pines.”

  “Put it on speaker. I want to hear,” I heard him say.

  “Fine fine,” my mother responded.

  “I got offered the job as the principal of the elementary school, so I figured I should give it a try,” I tell them, giving my dad the news I had already given my mom.

  “Now you get to use the house!” she exclaimed.

  I remember trying to muster some of the enthusiasm I knew was running through my parents’ bodies, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think about the good times spent here because all those memories were all soured by him.

  Home wasn’t a safe place anymore.

  They thought I was so eager to finally make my way back, but I wasn’t. They had chalked up me never coming home during those first two years to school being really busy. They came to me instead, visiting me whenever they had a chance.

  My parents never knew what happened. I never really explained to them why I never wanted to come back. Why I avoided every story they wanted to tell me about Forest Pines. They never knew about the guy who broke my heart. They didn’t know him or the fact that he and I were dating.

  If they had, they would’ve questioned my choice of college—of not even applying to the school of my dreams because I had a different dream to chase. I wanted to go where he was going. That was stupid of me, I realize now.

  They might’ve judged him because of his tattoos. His grades. The way he swore with each sentence he uttered.

  They would’ve helped you avoid a lot of suffering. I’m reminded of the fact that if I had told my parents, they may have stopped me from dating him. Then again, I was so in love with him that I don’t think anyone could’ve kept me away. He was my everything. I thought I meant the same to him. That was my mistake.

  The rest of the conversation was much of the same. My parents reminisced about their time here but told me how much they loved living so close to the beach. I told them they should’ve moved to Florida so they could swim as often as they wanted. They shot that down, saying they liked the Rhode Island cold. They loved the beach, but there was something they loved more about being there.

  Before hanging up, Dad told me to visit and Mom told me to call often. I promised to do both and then hung up the phone and cried myself to sleep. Something I hadn’t done in a very long time.

  I thought I had gotten over him. Over what he did, but the thought of returning to the place where I left him… or better yet, where he left me, brought back the scars I’ve tried so hard to cover up.

  Shaking the negative thoughts out of my head, I go back outside to the car and retrieve my luggage. After a few trips to the car and back, all my belongings are inside the house and the sun has set.

  With the lights in the house pushing away the darkness, I rummage the kitchen for something to eat, hoping I get lucky. Too bad luck isn’t typically on my side. No one’s lived here for four years and so hoping to find something edible was a long shot. I guess I half expected my parents to have gotten someone to take care of that too.

  Picking up my telephone, I open the pizza app and order a large pepperoni pizza and a molten lava cake. I opt for changing into pajamas, turning on the TV, and watching a movie. Thank God I was smart enough to call earlier and make sure that all the utilities and the internet were working by the time I got here.

  When the pizza comes, I tip the delivery guy and bring it all straight to the couch. Opting for a comedy, I get comfortable and let the hours go by.

  I start the new job tomorrow.

  Other people would’ve moved a couple of days earlier, but not me.

  I didn’t want to have more days drowned out by my thoughts.

  Christian Cole has taken enough of me already.

  No need to give him time to take more.

  4

  CHRISTIAN

  I’ve been dreaming ever since Principal Jackson offered me the job a couple of days ago. Even on my way to work this morning, I couldn’t believe that this is where I was headed. I couldn’t help but think about what could’ve been. The career I should’ve had. The fact that I’m getting a second chance, which although is not as great as the first, is something.

  Principal Jackson takes me around the rest of the school, showing me the place I’ve seen too many times before.

  Bragan High School isn’t new to me. I came to this school back when I was in high school. A rebel child who didn’t care about anything.

  Careless.

  That’s what I was.

  But in these halls, I learned to care about one person. Her.

  I also had to say goodbye to her. Here. Everyone watched as I broke the heart of the one person I loved. Breaking her wrecked me.

  Walking around these halls is a reminder of the life I could’ve had. The one that got away. But maybe being in these halls is also a second opportunity.

  I worked construction for six years.

  I’ve missed playing football. Missed the sport. While coaching it won’t be the same, getting paid to teach others about football is the next best thing.

  “Are you ready to start?” Principal Jackson’s words bring me back to the present.

  “Absolutely. Just say when,” I tell him after he finishes refreshing my mind as to how everything works.

  “Time is of the essence, so we need you to start now,” he says, not surprisingly. Considering teams start preparing
in August, we’re already behind where we should be.

  “I can do that,” I tell him.

  “Feel free to schedule practice as needed. Bragan High School football isn’t what it used to be when you were here. These kids need a lot of guidance and help if we want to win any games this season.”

  “Just leave it to me. I’ll make sure we pick it up,” I tell him, sounding more confident than I feel.

  Principal Jackson beams at me. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

  “They’ll all be here after school today. They know the new coach is starting today. Feel free to make them love or fear you. Whatever works for you.”

  “Got it.” I’ve been thinking about what kind of coach I want to be since I knew I was going to be one. I haven’t necessarily figured that out yet.

  Walking into the head coach’s office, my office, I notice it still has Coach Morales’ name. “We’ll make sure we swap that out for ya,” Principal Jackson tells me when he sees me pause and stare at it.

  “Doesn’t bother me.” Coach Morales was a role model. “Coach Morales pushed me to be the best I could be on the field each day.” I don’t think I could ever fill his shoes, but I’ll try.

  Principal Jackson looks down at his watch. “Alright, well, I got administrative business to take care of. You know where my office is if you need me.”

  “Thanks for everything,” I tell him, extending my hand to shake his.

  “It’s good to see you, Christian. We’re proud of you,” he replies, his words catching me by surprise. Aside from my mother, and her, no one’s ever told me they were proud of me before. I’ve disappointed a lot of people in my life though, including myself.

  Disappointed that I didn’t get the girl.

  That I didn’t get to play football.

  That I made mistakes.

  “Thanks,” I tell him, not knowing what I did to make him be proud of me but not questioning it either. This job fell on my lap when I thought I’d be stuck in construction, forever becoming insane. If he doesn’t remember the Christian Cole I was back then, I’m not about to remind him.

  Principal Jackson leaves my office and I close the door. Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I immediately call my mother. “Hey ma,” I greet her the moment she answers.

  “Hey Christian, how are you?” she asks, her tone sweet as usual.

  I take a seat and rest one of my hands on the desk, admiring the picture left behind. It’s of our team, senior year, after winning the championship game. I look at the expression on my face, an uncharacteristic smile. I was happy back then. I was clueless as to what would happen next.

  I’m happy now, I remind myself.

  “I’m good, I officially have the job!” I tell her. I hadn’t told her about the offer earlier because I wanted to make sure it was real. I half expected to show up here only for Principal Jackson to laugh at me and send me packing. All I told her was that I was interviewing for the coaching position.

  She squeals. “You did?!”

  “Yes, I start coaching today!”

  “That’s great, son! Did you put in your two weeks at the other job?” she asks.

  “I don’t know that I can. The school needs me to start as soon as possible, so two weeks isn’t going to cut it unless Hollister wants me to work the weekends. I’ve got Ari though, so I don’t really want to be working every day of the week. I have to hold practice today already.”

  “I know you don’t want to leave on a bad note, but you’ll love this job a lot more than you ever liked the last one,” my mom says knowingly.

  “That’s true. I’ll figure it out and let you know.”

  “So, are you there right now?” she asks curiously.

  “Yup. Just sitting at my desk,” I say, looking around and taking it all in.

  I can hear the excitement in my mother’s voice. “You deserve this.”

  I don’t know about deserving anything, but I don’t bother saying anything. “Speaking of starting today, could you do me a favor?” I hate asking for help, but I’ve realized that raising a child takes a village.

  “Anything for you,” my mother replies. This woman is a Godsend. Nothing I’ve done, not even my rebellious phase, which included coming home and telling my mother that I’m not going to college because I got a girl pregnant, got her to stop loving and being there for me. She’s always been my rock. Unmovable.

  “Can you pick Ari up from school?” I ask.

  “Absolutely, same time as always?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I usually pick Ari up, but with practice after school that won’t be possible. I really have to figure out what I’m going to do about that.

  “We’ll go for ice cream and maybe even stop at the park.” Mom’s all too eager to give my daughter whatever she wants. She says it’s her job to spoil her grandbaby.

  I laugh. “Not too much ice cream. I’ll get her from your place as soon as I’m done with practice.”

  “I can always keep her overnight. You know I love spending time with her.”

  “I know, I know. I love spending time with her too.”

  “She’s your kid. You spend all the time you want with her,” my mom retorts.

  I chuckle. “You can’t keep her overnight. She’s got school tomorrow. If you want, she can stay over on Saturday since I’ll be meeting with the players Saturday mornings for practice.”

  “Perfect! I’ll hold you to that. And wow, you’re already forcing them to do Saturday practices?”

  “Gotta do what we have to do to win.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” Wow. Two people proud of me in one day. That’s gotta be a record.

  “Thank you for everything, Mom. Tell Ari I love her.”

  “I always do.”

  5

  AMARI

  “It’s our pleasure to introduce you all to Principal Santana,” the head of the Board of Directors, Stephanie Walden, says as she ushers me to the front of the room.

  “Hi all,” I say, trying to not sound awkward as I greet the teachers at Bragan Elementary School. “My name is Amari Santana. I’m actually from this town. I even attended Bragan High School,” I tell them, a nervous laughter escaping me, but they don’t find it funny. “I didn’t attend this elementary school, but that’s because I lived closer to Middlestone,” I add, rambling. I can’t help it, I’m nervous.

  I look around the room and notice the disenchanted and disinterested looks from the teachers who are all much older than me and are probably wondering what the heck I’m doing leading their elementary school.

  I push through their silence and skepticism. “I wanted to introduce myself to you all as I will be taking over Principal D’Amico’s functions. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me. While I become acquainted with the school, I’ll be stopping by each of your classrooms making my rounds. I’d like to learn about your teaching styles as well as get to know the kids. In a couple of weeks, I’ll want to set up a parent-teacher conference so that I can get to know the parents as well.”

  Continuing to talk, I don’t let the silence discourage me. This is my dream job and I’m going to do whatever is necessary to make it work. “If you need any supplies for your classrooms, let me know. I know that there were budget cuts last year, but I’m sure we can find a way to make sure you each have what you need.” As I expected, those words bring some light to the teachers’ eyes. They look at each other and nod, their features softening. I’m glad that worked.

  I know transitioning in as someone less experienced will be hard. But I’m sure I’ll gain their trust in no time. Right now, they have no reason to believe I’m equipped to do this job. Truth be told, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Don’t know what I’m expected to do. I was handed the keys to the school with little direction.But I’ll pick it up soon enough.

  Teaching had always been my dream, but I realized soon enough that I cared more about making sure that the kids had what they needed than being the person in the
classroom instructing them. This position gives me a bigger opportunity to make sure they have the tools to succeed.

  I have a bigger impact.

  It won’t just be my classroom. It’ll be every classroom.

  I want the kids to dream big. To know they can make it as far as they want. I want them to chase their goals. To do what they thought could never be done. And I want to help empower them. Being the principal increases my ability to do just that.

  The meeting ends thirty minutes later and I walk away with a smile on my face. When it ended, a few of the teachers walked up to me to introduce themselves. Even the teachers who looked at me with skepticism at the beginning walked up to me and said hello. They seemed a little more sure at the end of the meeting that I wasn’t going to mess it all up.

  I walk over to my office, close the door behind me, and then take a seat at my desk. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, releasing all the tension and anxiety I’ve been holding.

  A knock on the door startles me. “Hi, sorry to interrupt,” Hannah, who was introduced to me earlier as my assistant, says. She’s around my age and I’m really hoping that she doesn’t think I was sleeping. On the job. On my first day.

  “No worries, I was just…” I start, making sure she doesn’t get the wrong impression.

  “Taking a deep breath?” she finishes for me and I smile, relieved she’s not judging me.

  “Yeah. That was a lot,” I tell her honestly.

  “Didn’t expect to have this job so early in your career?” she asks and I don’t sense any judgment in her voice, just curiosity.

  I nod. “I’ve only been teaching for two years. To think that I am now in charge, of basically everything and everyone, is a lot to take in.”

  She walks all the way into the room and takes a seat on one of the two chairs in front of my desk. “You’re still teaching.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, a little confused.