Just Because of You

by Gianna Gabriela

  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 Christian 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 winter. They loved the beach, but there was something they loved more about being there and continuing to experience all the seasons.

  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. That night, I 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 and retrieve my luggage. After a few trips to the car and back, I manage to get all of my things inside just in time to see the sunset.

  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 the food too.

  Picking up my phone, I open the pizza app and order a large pepperoni pizza and a molten lava cake. I decide to stay in. Changing into pajamas, I settle onto the couch. Turning on the TV, I’m grateful I had the foresight to get utilities and the internet working before I got here.

  When the pizza comes, I tip the delivery guy and bring it all straight to the couch. I decide to watch a comedy movie, 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 yesterday. 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 attended this school back when I was in high school. I walked into this school as 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 most. Breaking her wrecked me.

  Walking around these halls is a reminder of the life I could’ve had with the one who got away. The one I pushed 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 explaining to me how things work.

  “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. Coach Morales wasn’t planning on retiring, but from what Principal Jackson tells me, his deteriorating health was the only factor in his decision to leave.

  “I can do that,” I tell him, though I have no idea how that’ll work with my other job.

  “Feel free to schedule practices 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,” he says, patting me on the shoulder. “They’ll all be here after school today. They know the new coach is starting. Feel free to make them love or fear you. Whatever works for you,” he adds.

  “Got it.” I’ve been thinking about what kind of coach I want to be since yesterday. I haven’t necessarily figured that out yet, but it’s only been twenty-four hours.

  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 and off 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 at myself that I didn’t get the girl.

  That I didn’t get to play football.

  That I made mistakes I can’t fix.

  “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 yesterday 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 lets me work only during the weekends. I’ve got Ari though, so I don’t really want to be working every day. 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 f
igure 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 addressing that. “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 going home and telling my mother that I wasn’t 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 today and stay with her for a few hours?” I ask.

  “Absolutely, same time as always?”

  “Yes ma’am.” I usually pick Ari up, but with practice being 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 here.”

  “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. It’s a school night. If you want, she can stay over on Saturday since I’ll be meeting with the players Saturday mornings through the afternoon 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.” Winning is the goal.

  “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. All I’ll have to figure out is where to find the extra money.

  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’m 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.

  “You’re teaching teachers how to be better teachers. You’re teaching students about the responsibilities of their actions. You’re still going to be teaching, so think about it like that.”

  I never thought about this position being one where I’d still get to teach. “I thought this job was finding out what everyone needed and making it happen.”

  “That’s your main job, but this is an elementary school. From your time teaching, you know that children are sponges that absorb everything. They’ll learn from you, whether you want them to or not.”

  I smile. “This is true.” I decide to be more trusting than usual and ask Hannah a few questions. “So, be honest, am I in over my head here?”

  She shakes her head. “Nonsense. If anything, you’re exactly what we need. A breath of fresh air. New ideas. New energy.”

  “Do you think the other teachers will appreciate a new perspective from someone who hasn’t been doing it as long as they have and now gets to tell them what to do?” I ask candidly.

  “Absolutely. It won’t happen all at once, but you’ll get most of them on board. As long as you do a good job, it won’t matter how long you’ve been doing it.”

  “How do I start getting them on my side?” I ask. I really want them to like me because that would make my job a lot easier.

  “You’ve already started. That line about coming to you if they’re lacking any resources, that definitely earned you some brownie points.”

  “That’s what I was aiming for!” Talking to Hannah is so easy. Even though I met her earl
ier today, her personality is already making me feel comfortable.

  “You’ll be fine,” she says with the certainty I lack. Her words and unfounded confidence in me are helping me believe that I can, in fact, do this. Coming back here is a risk I never thought I would take. But I’m hoping I made the right decision.

  6

  CHRISTIAN

  “Daddy, I’m home!” I hear Ari yell as she runs through the front doors of our home. “Grandma and I went out again!” It’s Friday and already I haven’t been able to pick Ari up from school this entire week. Mom’s been helping me out and staying with her until I get out of work, but I miss my little girl.

  “Where’d you guys go?” I ask her as I walk out of the kitchen and meet her in the living room.

  “She took me for ice cream again,” her huge smile says it all.

  I pick her up from the floor, lift her, and hug her tightly. “Your grandma is always spoiling you.”

  “That’s because I’m a princess,” she says resolutely.

  I nod. “You are.”

  “And a warrior,” she adds and I smile.

  “This is true,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head.

  “And a fighter,” I laugh at that last one.

  “But you don’t get into fights, right?” That’s not something I’d ever want her to do. Defend herself, yes. I teach her to defend herself always. But not seek out fights. I want to raise her to be better than me.

  She shakes her head. “No, Daddy. What I mean when I say I’m a fighter is that I don’t give up.”

  “Ohhh, so you’re not a quitter,” I clarify and she nods.

  “Exactly!” Her arms hold me tightly as I pick her up and walk us over to the kitchen. “So, now that you’ve had your ice cream, think you’ve got space in your belly for dinner?”