A/n- This is somewhat shorter, I know, but summer is turning out to be crazier than I thought. BTW, any of you who were not in Stanford on the 5th missed out big time. That was one of the best DCI shows I've seen in a long time. :D So basically, I was oggling Phantom Regiment when I should have been writing. ;)
I own characters and events.
She retched as she gulped some Quik-Bru coffee back in her suite. City water. She cringed. She didn't know how these people lived with it. However, she was in desperate need of the caffeine. Her body was going to kill her before this was through; she didn't have a very good tolerance for caffeine. She sat down once again in front of her laptop, trying to make sense of the emails she had gotten from old friends willing to take over for her year. She wondered how the Upper Management had gotten past the principals and admin that made teaching so incredibly ridiculous nowadays.
Her eyes refused to focus on the print, and her mind kept returning to her fate of the next year. Not necessarily for herself, but for her kids. They would always be hers, no matter if someone stepped in as a long term substitute. But what if this was the year that they won something? Would they still practice with a strange teacher, however good they may be? What about her graduates? Would they miss her at graduation? Of course they would. Her hands clenched into fists as her thoughts turned to Stephens. How dare he? How dare he think that she would be ok with his deal? That slimy, presumptuous… oh, she wished she could make him run laps. Again. Her fists uncurled. You really aren't being fair, he did try his best for you, a part of her said. You could be in a much worse situation. Damn. It was so much easier to be angry and want to do something than feel helpless and despairing.
A cold breeze erupted from the monster air conditioning unit by the bed. She shivered. The people here insisted on keeping frigid temperatures below 70 degrees. She got up from her laptop and went over to rummage through her duffle bag. Even in the dark of the room, she found what she was looking for by feel alone; a ragged jacket, embroidery raveling at the edges, with some of the patches curling up and threatening to fall off altogether. She hugged it to her for a second, breathing in slowly, before putting it on and reaching down again. This object looked equally worn; a sweatshirt blanket that was more air than material. The white logo in the middle had all but vanished, leaving traces of letters behind in bold block print on the dark blue cloth.
SN S AT was all that was left. She traced the letters gently with a finger before flinging the blanket around her shoulders.
She looked at her laptop clock. 4:26. She suddenly felt the exhaustion that she had hoped the caffeine would keep at bay. Taking one last view of the sprawling cityscape below her, she closed the blinds to the enormous picture window and crawled into bed. Particles of thought chased themselves around her head as she pulled the blanket tighter around her. I'm all alone in this hotel room…if you love the mountains and blue skies above you… they want a story do they? Alright, we'll get them a story that will set their hair on end… She sighed before falling into a deep sleep.
A/n- It's going slowly, I know. Part of it is because I have all these scenes in my head, and very little connecting bits to piece them all together into a story. Extra cookie for the person who can name the 3 random quotes... :D