Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1) (9 page)

If she failed, that is
.

But could she bear to fail?
Could she even accept failure as an option? Although she was far from perfect, she hated failure more than she liked to admit. She shook herself. No, she couldn’t.
That’s not going to happen.
Her shoulders slumped. Yeah, right. Just because she hated failing, that didn’t mean she was immune to it. So there she was, full circle—stuck, with no hope for release, and facing the fear of failure and violence that seemed inherent in this job.

She laid her head on her desk. Brad Meyers
would surely come to his senses and bring her in, she told herself. Until then, best she keep busy and try to work on solving the school’s problems. A challenge suddenly struck her head-on. Granted it was a seemingly impossible one, but a positive challenge, none the less. What if she could actually accomplish it? She would be making the school a safe environment and helping all those students. Perhaps she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and start thinking of the students and the faculty.

Her spirits lifted
momentarily, until the enormity of the task threatened to shove her down. She—one person—couldn’t fix so many problems, especially when she didn’t even fully understand how this school functioned. God! No one could do it alone. It would take the entire faculty. How could she get their support when they mostly treated her like she had the plague?

She needed a secret weapon.
Ron. He was the key to her success here. With his support, she might, just might, have a chance of winning over the rest of the faculty. They seemed to follow his lead despite him being second in command. Of course that still left her with a problem. Ron remained aloof despite her best efforts to win him over. That needed to change.

For the rest of the day, whenever she caught a few spare minutes, she brainstormed ideas
, researched online for resources, and jotted down notes. After school was dismissed for the day, she met with Ron in her office and laid out her plan. He didn’t say anything after she finished. He looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

Claire sat in her chair, her arms spread out on her desk in front of her in almost pleading fashion.
“I know it won’t be easy, but I want to make Midland a place where we can all feel safe, faculty and students alike. To do that, I need your help. I need the faculty’s help. One person can’t do it.”

He
drummed his fingers on the desk for a few moments, his face turning red.

“Why should I help you? You’re
just like the last principal here at Midland. He left all the work to me and did nothing except kiss up to the board. He finally tried to tighten security— only after things had deteriorated so bad that he couldn’t bear coming to work. By then, it was hopeless.”

“It’s not hopeless. We can fix the problems.”

“You mean ‘we’, as in the rest of us. We’re supposed to do your job. I’ve worked for a couple principals who treated their staff like slaves. I’m not going to be anyone’s slave anymore.”

Shocked at his vehement response, and from what she was hearing, Claire tried to see things from his perspective.
“I’m sorry you’ve been through that, Ron. I’ve worked under people like that, too. I promise you, I won’t delegate my work. I’m a doer. But I can’t do everything. What I’m proposing is a huge undertaking, I know. To fix the problems here—and the problems are not trivial—I have a lot to do and I need the entire faculty to work together with me as a team.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “That’s hard to believe. From the start
you seemed like another one of those ‘do-nothing’ types.”

Claire winced. “
Ron, please don’t judge me yet. Yes, I didn’t jump into action immediately. I’ve only been here a little less than a fort—I mean two weeks.” She paused. “I needed to get acquainted with the school first. I’m still getting acquainted. I needed to study the situation so I could figure out what needed to be done before I initiated any plans. Like I said, I’m a doer, but I don’t jump into action blindly, without facts. Does that make sense?”

He studied her face
. After a few moments, he said, “I guess it does. You’ve got to understand my situation.” He stood up and paced the floor. “I was second in charge around here. The job should have gone to me. Instead, I’m skipped over and forced to answer to an inexperienced principal. No matter what your credentials say, it seemed pretty obvious you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve plenty of experience.” She paused, realizing what he’d
just said. “Wait. You wanted the position? They told me no one wanted the job.”

“Of course I wanted it. I’m stuck here and I’ve been doing most of the administrative work, except for budgeting and going to
the administrative meetings, so why shouldn’t I have the title and the money?”

“
Ron, I’m sorry. Please understand that I didn’t make the decision to skip over you. The board made that decision. Please don’t hold a grudge against me.”

He crossed his arms
and remained silent for a few moments, then apparently decided and said, “I know it was because of the previous principal, Carl Robinson. He didn’t like me and didn’t hide that fact. He put me in a bad light with the board. This may get me fired, but I’m tired of walking around on egg shells around bosses, afraid I’ll say something wrong, something that’ll make him or her mad and get on my case. I’m not the only one around here who feels that way. Makes life here untenable. If we can’t be honest with each other, say what has to be said, then you’re no different than those other principals and I don’t want to work here anyway.”

She bit her lip. He was absolutely right. A year ago she would have said the same thing. Before she became a pawn in a liar’s game of chess. Don’t let h
im see how much his words sting, she told herself. “All right, look, I admit it. I may not know all I need to know about this job at this moment, but I can and will manage and I will fix this school. It’ll take time for me to become proficient, so I would appreciate any help you can give me.”

He snickered.

“Look,” she said, “it’s no surprise that you’re ahead of me when it comes to knowing about this school, the faculty, and the students. I will learn about that quickly. And if you help me get there I can teach what you need to know about budgeting, finance, planning, and decision-making skills to become a principal. Have you heard of Game Theory? Working together can be a win-win scenario for both of us.”

He stopped in mid-pace and stared at her. “Yeah, right. Forgive me for not kissing up
. I’m not that easily swayed.”

“Ron, listen to me. Please.
I mean every word. I want this and I truly believe everyone at Midland will benefit. Well, with the exception of the gang members and drug-dealers, that is.”

He twisted his mouth. “You want to impress the school board, take all the credit for fixing things so that you can advance your career. Isn’t that what this is really about?”

Claire sighed. “No, I don’t have any desire to move up in this district, Ron. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. I just want to make this school safe for as long as I’m here and afterwards.”

He squinted at her. “What? I’m confused. You talk like this is a temporary job for you
. We were told that it’s permanent.”

“It’s supposed to be. But, honestly, I move around a lot.”

His gaze held hers. “Well, Principal, I guess that’s the difference between us. You see, I live here.”

“Please work with me, Ron.”

“I’ll think about it and let you know.” He got up and walked out.

C
HAPTER SEVEN

CLAIRE PULLED INTO
the garage next to her condo on Sunday afternoon after shopping for groceries. She helped Marcus out of his car seat and then popped open the car’s boot. Marcus, eager to help, ran to the back of the car and pulled out a bag of apples. Before she could stop him, he ran out of the garage toward their front door, swinging the bag. The bag broke and spilled apples out onto the sidewalk. He screamed and burst into tears.

Claire set down her bags and rushed over to him. At the same time, a gr
ay-haired woman ran toward him, bent down, and began scooping up the apples and placing them back in the mesh bag.

“It’s okay,” the woman said. “Happens to me all the time.”

“Thanks,” Claire said, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Pish-posh. What else do I have going on right now? I’ll tell you. Nothing
. I couldn’t bear to watch another hour of television, so I went for a walk. I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Angie Williams. I live next door to you.” 

“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Claire Constantine. This is my
screaming son, Marcus.”

“I’ve met Marcus. I see him with
his nanny now and then. She takes him over to the park when the weather allows. “

Claire stuffed the last of the apples into the bag. She remembered Brad telling her to act normally in her new place, not to hide away but be open with the neighbors
. Unfortunately, all she really wanted to do was go inside. When she straightened up, Claire noticed that Marcus had quieted and was looking at Angie.

“I ‘member you,” he said. “You brought donuts and gave ‘em to Nanny Kate and me. They were yummy.”

Angie chuckled. “Yup. That bakery near the corner of Kipling and Wadsworth has the best donuts in town. I went over to buy one donut and in a moment of craziness came out with a dozen. I didn’t dare eat them all.” She padded her round stomach and laughed. “After eating two, I had to dispose of the rest so I took them around to neighbors.”

Claire smiled tightly, and took hold of Marcus’s hand. Besides wanting to avoid people in general to minimize the lies, she really did need to work on plans for her next faculty meeting scheduled for
tomorrow morning. She needed this meeting to go better than the first one, or she was sunk. The meeting and the mention of donuts suddenly clicked together.

“Thanks for the tip about the bakery,” she said. “I’m holding a faculty meeting in the morning. I think I’ll stop by there and buy some donuts for the staff.”

“Oh, yeah? Where do you work?”

“Midland High School.” Angie opened her mouth, then snapped it shut
.

“Well, hopefully it’s only temporary,” Claire said. “It doesn’t feel safe to me there.” 
Oh crap, I shouldn’t have said that
.

Angie nodded, and then tilted her head. “That reminds. I saw someone hanging around the building the last few days. Seemed like he was watching somebody or something. I went over and asked him what he was doing, and he asked if I knew you. I didn’t know your name so I said no. But then he mentioned a little boy around three
or four. “

Claire gasped. “What—what did you say, then?”

“Nothing. I just shrugged my shoulders and went back inside.”

“What did he look like?”

“An average Joe. Middle-aged, wavy dark-blond hair, clean-cut, dressed in jeans and a lightweight jacket.”

Her head was spinning with possibilities.
Did the people who wanted her dead already find her? Should she call Brad?

“Thank you for telling me.
I’ll keep a lookout for him. If you see him again, will you call me, please?” She took a piece of paper and a pen out of her handbag which was strapped over her shoulder and scribbled her phone number.

Angie took the paper and said, “
Of course.”

Claire
thanked her for her help and walked Marcus up to the door, unlocked it, and took him inside, where she swept through the flat to make sure no one was hiding inside. Nothing unusual, no sign of an intruder. She went back to her car and gathered the rest of the groceries, then closed the garage door and walked back toward her condo, looking around for the watcher as she walked.

When she was safely inside, she locked the door and did another ritual check of windows and back door. After that, she dialed Brad’s number. He answered on the second ring and she told him what her neighbor had said.

“Okay, don’t panic. Be careful, and keep me apprised of the situation. Like I said before, my bosses don’t want to move you unless it’s absolutely necessary. And to be honest with you, Claire, this, coming, right after they told us their stance, will make them think you’re making it up unless you give us some proof there’s a problem.”

“You’re not helping me,” she said. “Why have you changed so much? I used to be able to count on you for support.”

“It’s complicated. Let me know if you get any proof that you’re in danger.”

CLAIRE WALKED TO the faculty lounge a few minutes before her
second faculty meeting, this time armed and ready for battle. She set down a box with a huge assortment of donuts on a table where everyone could see them.

Claire planted herself in the corner of the room, a corner that gave her the best view of her employees, and watched as teachers straggled in
, poured themselves coffee, picked through the donuts ‘til they found the one they wanted, and finally sat down. She still didn’t know whether Ron would help, but he’d told her he would think about it. Hopefully his decision would be favorable or her planning would be useless.

Glancing around the room at sullen faces, she said, “I’ve had
a bit of time to familiarize myself with this school and see many things that need to change, starting at the top and filtering downward.”

One of them
stood up, walked by the table, and sneezed on the remaining donuts. Claire tried to hide her shudder as she wondered if it had been a deliberate sabotage. Several other teachers stood up to pour themselves coffee refills, and three teachers moved from the front, to a back corner, and began whispering together. They’re already bored? She’d only said one sentence. Was it any wonder the students ignored their teachers when they had these people as role models?

“I d
id not meet Carl Robinson so I don’t know his philosophy about being a principal,” Claire said. “I can tell you mine though. A school isn’t a school and can’t function without teachers or without students. It can function without a principal and assistant principal though.” Ron gave her a funny ‘what gives’ look, and she smiled. “Maybe not very well,” she added, “but it could function.” The people who were actually listening, laughed, including Ron.

Claire continued. “A principal and assistant principal don’t make a school. Our roles are important, but in a different way. We’re here to lead, support, organize, plan, and deal with problems. We’re here to help you—the teachers, counselors,
and the students. You are the school. We’re the support and the framework that holds the school together.”

She paused and looked around the room. Maybe half of
them looked somewhat more attentive. She gave Ron a questioning look, and he nodded. “Let’s make this school a better place for you teachers and your students. Ron and I have some ideas on what to do, which we will share with you. We need your input. We need your help and want to hear your suggestions.”

Teachers looked at each other and then looked back to Claire. No one commented. Some fidgeted, others played with their cell phones or other electronic devices. Were they texting each other? She couldn’t tell for sure.

Finally, someone said, “Sounds like platitudes, if you ask me. I’ve worked for principals who talk big. It’s always the same. They sit behind their desks, collect fat paychecks, while we do all the work with no support and no recognition.”

“
I understand. I’ve been a teacher. I know how it is, how hard it can be. I’m telling you I don’t function like that. What I am saying is that this school is currently broken. I want to fix it. So does Ron. And neither of us want to be the kind of leadership you have apparently been subjected to. That’s not how we want to lead.” Claire paused. “Midland High School can be a place where teachers want to spend their days, where they don’t dread coming to work and where students respect you and themselves. Ron and I want to help. But it will take all of us together to make it happen. This school and your lives will continue the way it is unless we fix it. Please give us and your students a chance.”

Several teachers folded their arms, clearly dismissing her,
except for one man, Ed Logan, a science teacher. He said, “Boy, that’s something I never thought I’d hear coming from a principal.”

Whispering buzzed through the room, and Claire wished
for super-hearing.

“You can’t fix this hellish place,”
one teacher said. “It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late. I’ve researched other urban schools around the country. Many have succeeded. With your help, we can too. It won’t be easy. I’m not naïve. But if we pull together and work as a team,
I know we can do it.”

The buzzing increased.

“What’s in it for you?” Nancy Palmer, the English teacher Claire had met in the Admin office on her first day of work, asked. She was sitting near the back of the room. “A raise, a promotion, maybe a transfer to one of the good schools? Assuming you can pull this off, of course.”

That surprised Claire. She’d thought Nancy was nicer than that. Disappointed
though still determined, she said, “I get the same thing you do—a better environment and to feel safe. This is the scariest place I’ve ever worked in.”

Several heads bobbed in agreement.

“Look, if we can pull this off, as Nancy said, there would be no need to transfer to a good school. This will be a good school. That’s the point.” Claire paused, waiting for their reactions, but when they came, she sighed.

“You can’t fix this place,” a teacher who was leaning against the back wall shouted. “These kids are incorrigible. Don’t you know the kind of homes they come from? Go drive through the neighborhoods. You’ll see you’re wasting your time and ours.” Heads nodded and then half the teachers rose and walked out.

Claire took a deep breath and let it out. The body language of some of the remaining teachers gave the impression they’d stayed because they hadn’t the courage to walk out. Oh well. At least they’re here.

“Thank you for staying.
We’ll create a mission statement and goals for the school,” Claire said, “But we’d like your input, so please think about it and get back to Ron or me.”

She turned to her secretary, Kim. “Would you please make a list of the teachers here?”

Kim nodded and began writing on the notepad she’d brought with her.

After the meeting adjourned, Claire went back to her office and closed the door behind her. Obviously, she wasn’t cut out to inspire people with speeches. How was she supposed to reach the students when she couldn’t even connect with more than a handful of faculty members at best?

TUESDAY MORNING, CLAIRE arrived at work early to practice the speech she would be giving later that day. She’d spent most of Monday creating the framework of a game plan for school improvement, including a building-wide discipline system, then spent a couple more hours generating her proposal speech. Now, she sat at her desk with her door closed for an hour, speaking it aloud, scribbling minor changes on a piece of paper. A knock of the door startled her and interrupted her verbal practice. The door opened and Frank poked his head around the corner. Claire smiled and motioned for him to enter.

“Good morning
,” Frank said. “Is this a bad time to talk?” 

“No, not at all. I’m preparing for an assembly.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of assembly?”

“
First, to introduce myself to the whole school and, second, to let the students know about changes we’ll be making and about our new expectations.”

“Sounds interesting. I’d like to attend, if you don’t mind.”

Could she really say no without alienating him? Although she wasn’t sure she wanted him there to witness her flailing around, she tried not to show it in her face. She smiled, smoothed her hair, and said, “Of course you can attend.”  

“Super. When is it?”

“Ten o’clock.”

“Okay. I have another stop to make this morning, so I’ll take off now and come back at ten.”  Frank stood up
, but hesitated, waiting for her response.

“
See you then.” She stood, too, and they walked to the door together.

“Oh, you know, I might bring Steve
Jensen along if he’s available.”

She struggled to keep her mouth closed
so he wouldn’t see her sudden anxiety. She liked Steve, but she had enough pressure to succeed without having to worry about what he thought of her performance. She nodded, then looked away quickly.

Later, shortly after school began, Ron gave his daily announcements over the intercom
and announced the mandatory assembly schedule. “Everyone will gather in the auditorium at ten o’clock.”