Some Bright Someday (Maple Valley #2) - Melissa Tagg Page 0,37
from the school secretary’s domain. “Would you mind taking a seat out there for a bit?”
Colie answered with a shrug and stood, not even looking to Jen.
Jen watched the girl trundle from the room. She wore a too-small denim jacket, its sleeves pulling up at her wrists when she slumped into a chair near the secretary’s desk. Discouragement pinched at the edges of her fatigue as she turned back to the principal, her fingers gripping the strap of the purse in her lap.
“I’m sorry she’s not a little more . . . friendly.”
Understanding hovered in the principal’s expression. “You said you found her in a shed behind your house?
“A cottage, actually. I’m acting as a temporary guardian. It’s been a whirlwind, to say the least.” Thankfully, Mara had offered to watch Violet and Cade during this meeting.
“Wow.” He replaced his glasses and opened the manila folder, spreading out Colie’s files in front of him. “We do need to talk about Colie’s grade placement.”
“What do you mean? She’s in seventh grade.”
His brow furrowed as he fingered through the papers. “She missed quite a few days last year. And she’s already missed several weeks this year.”
“I wish I knew why her grandmother didn’t get her enrolled. Her health, perhaps.”
He tapped the top page. “It’s not only her attendance. Her grades are far from exceptional and her Iowa Test of Basic Skills scores were low last year. Plus, at her age, she’s one of the youngest in our seventh-grade class.”
“What are you saying?”
“Given her past attendance, her standardized test scores, and all the change she’s already enduring now, I believe we’d be better off placing her in the sixth grade.”
The leather of Jen’s purse squeaked against her twisting palms. “You want to hold her back?”
“I really think it’d be the best thing for her.”
She fought to keep her voice steady. “Embarrassing her would be the best thing for her?” She moved her purse to the chair Colie had vacated, just to keep herself from fidgeting. “Principal Willard, please. I haven’t been able to connect with Colie at all, and now you want me to go out there and tell her she’s being sent back a grade?”
“Would you rather wait until she’s struggling in her classes? Do you really want to risk starting her off at a level she’s not ready for only to have to tell her two or three or four months in that she’s going to have to move back?”
“How can you be that sure she’s not ready?”
“Because I know kids.” He took off his glasses once more, as if willing her to see the truth in his eyes. “We’re a small enough school, not to mention a small enough town, that it’s relatively easy to spot at-risk children. I believe Colie took on more responsibility at home for years than a child should have to.”
Jenessa had pieced that together as well from comments here and there. Violet had talked about Colie making supper each night, doing laundry and other things. It was good for kids to have chores, of course, but Jenessa got the feeling Colie’s responsibilities went beyond that.
Had Tessa Hollis worked evenings? Surely the cancer had made keeping up with things at home a hardship near the end.
“I’m not trying to make Colie’s life—or your own, for that matter—any harder,” Principal Willard said. “I’m trying to make this transition easier. For both of you.”
Resignation settled over her, a heavy shroud she couldn’t shake for the rest of the conversation. Within minutes, she was standing and shaking his hand. Reaching for her purse and forcing the closest thing she had to a smile as she left his office and approached Colie.
The halls of the school were silent as they walked, save the muted voices of teachers and students drifting from each classroom door they passed. Somewhere a locker door slammed. Colie didn’t say a word as their footsteps echoed on the hard floor, nor as they emerged into the afternoon sunlight.
Jenessa waited until they’d reached the car and Colie was buckled in to face the girl. “Hey.”
Colie didn’t respond, only leaned her arm on the door, chin in her fist.
“So volleyball, huh?”
Nothing. Maybe it’d be better to get straight to it.
“How do you feel about waiting a couple of days to start school? Maybe Thursday or even Friday? Principal Willard says it’s okay, and it’d give you a little time to get settled in at the house.”