Fatty Patty (A James Bay Novel) (31 page)

My gag reflex starts again.

“There’s nothing listed here about the new antibullying program at your school.” Chief Dennis stares at me over his paperwork. “Weren’t you the one working with the administration to develop the program?”

“Well, yes.” How did he find out about that? I straighten in my seat, ignore the skirt hiking up my thighs. “But it’s still in the planning stages. Plus, I’m not the only one involved.”

“I understand that. But the antibully program was
your
idea, correct?”

“That’s true,” I admit. “It’s something we just started working on this semester.” Lauren and her little clique haven’t let up on Tiffany since the school year started and I’m tired of them making the little girl’s life a living hell. “The contest application was submitted before we started the program.”

“Can you tell us a little about what’s involved?” Mayor Davis asks.

“Sure.” My head smacks, still on a sugar-buzz, but talking about this is a no-brainer.
Fatty Patty, out on the playground.
“According to national studies, bullying usually starts around fifth grade, so that’s where we decided to focus most of our concentration. We want to teach the kids how to talk about their feelings. So many kids in schools today come from broken homes. They bop back and forth between houses and parents. Kids need stability in their lives. They need to learn how to make good choices and how not to take it out on other kids. It’s our goal to work with the parents and the students so we can make a positive change. But giving the kids a voice will be the first step.”

Chief Dennis nods and instantly I feel better. Maybe I have a chance in this, after all. “Today’s world is different than the one we grew up in. It’s no longer just about the strong kids picking on the weaker ones while they’re out on the playground. Kids today have cell phones and they’re on computers. Online bashing is a huge threat and cyber-bullying is just as real as playground bullying. Just watch the TV news and you’ll know that. Kids need to learn how to manage their anger. They need to learn respect for themselves and for others, too… and to treat people the way they want to be treated. We’re working to put a curriculum together with a program that involves role-playing and talking about feelings. Kids will make lists of things they don’t like about the way people treat them. About how they feel when someone pays them a compliment. If they believe it.”

Did I believe it when Sam said I was beautiful?

“If and why they say hurtful things,” I add.

You’re fat
.

“Most of all, we need to make sure every voice is heard. Other kids need to learn to stand up and speak out. The worst thing that can happen is when someone sees or hears something and simply does nothing.”

She’s a mean girl, Patty
.

Thank God I had Priscilla. How and why did I lose her?

Chief Dennis clears his throat. “If we get to those kids before they’re too old and teach them how to work with their feelings, it could make a big difference—all the difference—in their lives. Let me know if my department can help in any way.”

Lucy Carter, reporter for the
James Bay Journal
, eyes me with a thoughtful smile. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure, go ahead.” She seems friendly enough and I have nothing to hide. I’ve always liked the
Journal
. It’s a hometown newspaper that provides fair and accurate reporting, with stories focused on the community rather than advertising space.

“How do you do it?”

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” I reply.

“All these commitments…” Lucy waves a hand across the paperwork. “How do you find time for a personal life?”

I bark a short laugh. Any personal life I had disappeared long ago. Sam is gone and Priscilla is barely speaking to me. As for Nick? The mere thought of facing him Monday morning makes me want to throw up. “That’s easy. My kids at school
are
my life.”

“Really?” A cool look settles on her face as she sits back in her chair, and I’m left with the odd feeling like I’ve somehow disappointed her, that she expected something else, something more from me. Then suddenly I get it. Lucy thinks I told her what I thought she’d want to hear. That I chose the easy way out. That I said what anyone would say… anyone who wants to win the contest.

But I told her the truth. Those kids are my life. They always have been. They always will be.

Mayor Davis glances around the small panel. “Anyone have any other questions?” Silence sits with us at the table. He shuffles the paperwork, closes my file. “I believe we have everything we need. We’ll be in touch. Thank you for coming in today.”

“Thank you for the opportunity.” I grab my purse and coat as everyone stands. Low voices trail me as I head for the door to make a quick escape. There’s no doubt in my mind that I blew the interview and I won’t advance to the final round. My last answer, the one I gave Lucy Carter, was the clincher.
Loser, loser, big fat loser.
Five years in a row. I’ll go down in school history as the Susan Lucci of the Bay County Teacher of the Year.

Footsteps follow me. “Patty?” A hand grabs my shoulder, catching me in the doorway.

I turn and face Chief Dennis. “Yes?”

“About that antibullying program… I didn’t want to say anything in front of the other judges but I think you’re to be commended. And everyone down at the police department feels the same. You’re doing a great job.” He shoots me a smile that actually puts a smidgeon of hope in my heart. Maybe I’m not such a loser after all.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

He hesitates. “You okay?”

“Just a little nervous.” I force a deep breath. “I’m glad the interview is over.”

“You did fine.” He nods briefly. “Go home, kick back, relax. Why worry about it? Remember, it’s just a contest.”

“Right,” I mumble. Easy for him to say. Not like it’s my life or anything. It’s just a contest.

Just a contest.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Can you OD on Cupid? Pink paper hearts and cutesy red arrows decorate the school hallways, display cases, and doors. Someone even plastered one on the janitor’s broom closet. Everyone has a sweetheart but me.
I shove through the door into the women’s staff bathroom and smack right into Amy.

“What the hell?” Amy, in a chic silk red suit and matching heels, skitters backward. Only a quick grab for the sink prevents her from falling. She smoothes down her skirt and scowls at me. “What is your problem?”

“Sorry,” I mumble. “Next time I’ll be sure and knock.” I head into a stall and snap the lock, sink down on the toilet fully dressed. I don’t need to use the bathroom, I just need some peace and quiet. I cradle my head in my hands, close my eyes, wait for her to leave.

“And thanks to you, I snagged my nylons.” Amy’s voice, filled with annoyance, snakes it way under the door of the stall.

“I’m sorry.” I rub my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. Why doesn’t she go away? How many times do I have to say it before she’ll leave? “I’m sorry, Amy.” One more time for emphasis. “Very, very sorry.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Patty, quit being dramatic.” She sighs. “I’ve got another pair in my desk. And I suppose I should forgive you. After all, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

I shake my head, squeeze my eyes tighter. So much for finding peace and quiet in a toilet stall. Leave it to Amy to remind me what I’m trying to forget. I flush, just to save myself the grief of answering questions, and open the door. I join her at the sink, scrub my hands while she fiddles with her hair. Glittering heart-shaped earrings dangle from her ears.

She catches me watching in the mirror. “Diamonds,” she says. “Hughie surprised me with them over breakfast this morning.”

“Very nice,” I manage to get out. Once upon a time, a man gave me a diamond to hang against my heart.

Amy preens in front of the mirror. “I love diamonds. You can dress them up or dress them down.”

I rinse my hands. Compared to Amy, I look like a mouse. A very plump mouse wearing a clean white blouse and drab brown pants. At least my sweater is red, but it’s not because of Valentine’s Day. It was the only thing in my closet long enough to hide the elastic waistband on my pair of pants.

Amy lounges against the sink like she has all the time in the world. Why doesn’t she get going? “Is this your free hour?”

“Heavens, no. I’m giving my room mothers time to clean up.” She rolls her eyes. “Our party was an absolute nightmare. Cupcakes and punch all over the tables and floor. Kindergarteners can be so messy.”

I yank some paper towels from the dispenser. The Amy Lynns of the world might rule the fashion industry, but they have no business in a classroom, especially with little ones. Good thing the Teacher of the Year Committee came to their senses and cut Amy in the semifinal round. Our school is down to two… Nick and me.

“Hughie is taking me out for dinner tonight. Do you have special plans?”

I shrug. I’m not about to give Amy the satisfaction of knowing I’ll be alone.

“I just thought you might be doing something with Nick.”

“Nick?” I look up sharply. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“Don’t act so naïve.” Her smile is thick, and like cake frosting so sweet you gag after the first bite. “Everyone knows you’ve got a crush on him.”

“But I don’t… I mean, we’re not…” I feel the blood rush to my face. Is she being her normal mean self or is she telling me the truth? Does everyone at school think that?

“You’re not what? Dating? Or maybe it’s just a sex thing. I can’t say I blame you. Nick is adorable. If I weren’t married…” She fingers one of her diamond earrings, eyes me with a suggestive smile. “I’ll bet he’s great in bed.”

I fight down a sudden urge to smack her. One swing is all it would take to wipe that smile off her face. I actually tried it once when we were in grade school, but Priscilla managed to stop me. But Priscilla isn’t in the bathroom today. She’s barely talking to me. And neither is Sam. Without the two of them cheering me on from the sidelines, the world isn’t such a warm and wonderful place. Priscilla moves silently as a shadow through my life and I haven’t seen or heard from Sam since New Year’s Eve. I never expected to miss him so much. I ruined everything that night when I slammed the car door in his face. If only he hadn’t spoiled things by bringing up the L-word.

If only I hadn’t spoiled things by bringing up the F-word.

But Sam and me together?
Fatty Patty
and
Big Sam
. It sounds like something straight out of some hokey TV western from the 60’s. It doesn’t take much imagination to think what our kids would look like. Chubby little toddlers, round little cheeks, fat little hands begging for cookies.

How would I manage a two-year-old when I can’t say no to myself?

And fighting Amy isn’t worth it. Why waste my time? I shoot the crumpled paper towel at the wastebasket. It hits the rim and bounces to the floor.

She laughs. “Maybe you should ask Nick to give you private lessons on how to score.”

Amy’s words buzz in my brain as the door slams behind her. Is it true? Does everyone in school really think I have a crush on Nick? Maybe it was true when the school year started, but not anymore. My feelings for him ended with the final buzzer on the night of his basketball game a few weeks ago. My stomach swirls and I grip the edge of the sink for support as I think about the side of Nick I saw that night. He will do whatever it takes… flattery, flirting, lying, cheating… Nick will do anything to get what he wants.

How far would he go to win the First-Year Teacher of the Year Award?

I splash cold water on my face. Time to climb off the pity pot and get back to the classroom. The kids are busy painting the windows with tempera paint and designing Valentines for the party this afternoon. Red punch, an afternoon movie, and games galore. Cupcakes with sugary frosting. Heart-shaped cookies with pink and white icing and little candy hearts. Twenty-five fifth graders on a sugar buzz, and that goes for their teacher, too. Since Nick’s basketball game, I’ve been on a candy binge for three straight weeks. But who cares? My kids don’t care what I look like. Why should I?

I square my shoulders and head out of the bathroom. I should count myself lucky to have twenty-five Valentines in my life. For today, it’s probably all I’m going to get. It will have to be enough. That, plus those cookies.

# # #

“I don’t see why we have to write some stupid paper about candy.” Tyler squirms in his seat and pokes one finger at the colorful little hearts covering his desk. “It’s a stupid game. Why can’t we just eat them?”

I hold back a sigh and explain my directions for the third time. “Use the messages you find on the candy hearts to write a one-page story. You can eat them once you finish.”

Maybe Tyler’s right. Maybe it is a stupid game. Ten years teaching, ten years playing the same silly Valentine’s game. I’ll have to come up with a new idea for next year.

“
Kiss me
.” Lauren waves one pink candy heart high with a loud snicker. “I know a good story for this one. Are we allowed to use real names?”

I rub my forehead.
Confessions of a Ten-Year-Old Vamp.
I’ve definitely got to think up a new game before next year.

Tiffany raises her hand. “Miss P? I need more hearts.”

I head for the back row. The top of Tiffany’s desk is empty and her paper is blank. “You weren’t supposed to eat them until you wrote your story.”

“But I didn’t eat them.” Her hollow eyes are dark and scared.

“Well, what happened? Everyone had the same number of hearts.” I take a deep breath, try to hang on to my patience. What is it with ten-year-olds? At this age, they should be able to follow directions. “They didn’t just disappear.”

“Billy took them,” Jenna whispers in a high voice from two rows over. “I saw him do it.”

“Did not!” Billy the Kid Connolly yells from his seat. He scowls at Jenna. “Mind your own business, dork.”