from Meadowbrook’s newer teachers.
“. . . was with Trollis at market eating sugared buns.”
“Oh, yeah? And did Mr. Ravak offer to sugar your buns?”
The pair erupted into giggles.
I suppressed a sigh. Almon Ravak had lost his wife to the pox nearly a year ago and didn’t appear to be in any hurry to replace her. It made me like him all the more. His eldest, Darshee, had been in my class the year before. Almon was a model parent with incredible kids. He’d been one of my favorites at parent-teacher conferences. Hm. Being with Ren at the time, I’d never considered flirting with Almon Ravak. Gah. I had to stop myself right there. Inappropriate. I was no better than my younger colleagues. Still, daydreaming never hurt anyone. Maybe it was time I started going back to market.
“Ah, good. Everyone is here.” Principal Lemonwick clapped his hands together as he entered the lounge. The elf was in his fifth decade. He lumbered in with his stocky build and medium height topped with a head of short hair routinely dyed brown whenever the yellow strands started to show. Apparently, he’d been teased back in school. It did seem a cruel joke to be born with such an uncommon hair color, especially given his family name.
Meara entered directly behind Lemonwick. I tried to get her attention, but she kept her focus on the principal’s back even after she’d taken a seat on a chair against the opposite wall.
My smile slowly dropped. Maybe she felt awkward about her sister dating my ex. It seemed so unlikely, though, enough to distract my thoughts as Lemonwick stood in the middle of the room and launched into plans for the next school year.
“Miss Vabella had her hands full with the larger-than-average first-year class,” he noted.
Edea Vabella, one of the young teachers, sat back in her armchair and nodded. She looked skyward and heaved a dramatic sigh that caused the older teachers to chuckle in appreciation.
“Which is why I am hiring an extra teacher for next term,” Lemonwick said. “Second-years will be split into two classes.”
Mrs. Hera Leolee, the second-year teacher, applauded, making her friends laugh. “Thank Sky.”
Lemonwick cleared his throat. “I’ll actually be hiring two new staff members. As you know, we obtained budgeting for a full-time arts and crafts teacher, which I have chosen from our current staff.”
I sat up in my chair and felt my grin fill my face. Finally. I needed some good news to get me through this craptastic breakup. As the arts and crafts teacher, I’d be spending time with both Darshee and Trollis Ravak. Maybe one, or both, had a flair for the arts. Maybe I’d offer to help work with the kids on their projects after school. Maybe Almon would invite me to stay for dinner. Maybe after the kids went to bed—
“I am happy to announce that Meara will be working with all grades in our new arts and crafts room.”
For several seconds, I could only gape at Lemonwick. For several more seconds, I waited for him to laugh, realizing he’d accidently said the wrong name. But then he went on to assign the rest of us the grades we’d taught previously.
“Zelie will resume her tutelage of fourth-years. Navarre has fifth. And Allisa will continue with sixth. I already have several exciting candidates to teach introductory year in place of Meara.”
Meara? For arts and crafts? Had Lemonwick’s hair dye gone to his head?
Everyone knew I was the craftiest, most artistic elf in all of Pinemist. Even Meara knew it. Why wasn’t she speaking up? Refuting this lunacy?
I was half convinced I’d entered an alternate reality, especially when Lemonwick called the meeting adjourned and the other teachers walked over to congratulate Meara.
I hurried after Lemonwick, jogging to catch up to him in the hallway. He was headed for the front door—probably on his way to squeeze in another hour of fishing before dusk at Sterling Pond. Everything else was secondary to fishing when it came to Beldroth Lemonwick.
The emotional turmoil had me panting as I dashed to his side before he could slip away. “You told me I was going to head up the arts and crafts department.”
Lemonwick didn’t slow his steps. Through the windows, the sun was dipping. “You were a top candidate. That is correct.”
“Then why did you choose Meara?” I demanded. “You know I’m the most artistic.”
With a sigh, Lemonwick pulled his gaze from the windows and met my eyes. He stopped. His firm stance didn’t make