Chapter Text
As the afternoon sun played hide and go seek with the clouds, a bass-heavy Chevy subwoofer threatened to create mini earthquakes. The Southside was already in full form - between the drill music resounding down the block and the L train rumbling overhead, Chicago made sure everybody on the block knew it was a school day.
Ryan Wilder stood at the entrance, her brown worn messenger bag slung across her shoulder, taking in the chipped brick building with its faded "Welcome to Collins" banner. Children's artwork decked the windows, with bright splashes of creativity against beige walls.
"Inhale for four, hold for four..." Ryan mumbled, trying to remember that free YouTube meditation video she'd watched last night. The Calm app ads haunted her Instagram feed, tempting her with peace of mind for just $14.99 a month. But YouTube was free, even if some dude trying to sell her car insurance interrupted her zen every five minutes.
She fidgeted with her blazer, feeling like a kid playing dress-up in grown-up clothes. Through the glass doors, kids zoomed past like they were auditioning for Fast & Furious: Elementary Edition. This wasn't like her teaching apprenticeship in the 'burbs. This was the real deal, her shot to actually make a difference in the world - starting with tiny humans.
The front office was plastered with morning disarray. A secretary juggled phone calls while a student with a bloody nose waited patiently beside her desk. Ryan approached, ready to introduce herself, when a voice cut through the ruckus.
"Ms. Wilder! Right on time."
Principal Marquis Jet fast-talked in, his tie loose and slightly crooked. He moved with an easy sureness that seemed at odds with the formal title of principal.
"Welcome to the madhouse," he extended his hand. "Though I'm sure you'll find it's more like organized chaos. Most days. Well….some days." He winked.
"Thank you for having me, Principal Jet. I'm excited to-"
"Please, just Marquis. I like to keep it real here." He gestured toward the hallway. "Let me give you the grand tour. And by grand, I mean you'll see every crayon mark and scuff on these historic walls. I think we might still have a stick figure drawing of the '96 Bulls."
As they walked, Marquis pointed out classrooms and shared quick stories about various teachers, his commentary sprinkled with jokes and asides. "And that's Mr. Fox's room - our resident science genius. Just don't get him started on the periodic table before coffee."
"How many teachers are currently-"
"Hold up," Marquis interrupted, stopping abruptly. "You hear that?"
Ryan listened, straining her neck to hear better. "I don't-"
"Exactly. Too quiet. Which means either naptime or trouble." He poked his head into a nearby classroom, where students were deeply focused on an art project. "False alarm! Carry on with your masterpieces, young Basquiats!"
The kids giggled, and Ryan noticed how Marquis's presence seemed to animate rather than intimidate them.
"So," Ryan ventured as they continued walking, "about my transfer here-"
"Sometimes the universe just knows where people need to be," Marquis said airily. "Or maybe someone gave the universe a little nudge. Who can say?" He paused mid-step, head tilting toward a classroom. "Hold up. Let me show you where you'll be teaching."
They peeked through the door's window. Inside, Room 112 a group of first graders played hand games in one corner, while others treated their desks like a jungle gym. At the front, Mrs. Tolbert dozed at her desk, reading glasses crooked, completely unbothered by the mini-carnival around her.
"Mrs. Tolbert!" Marquis sing-songed, pushing the door open. "Rise and shine you old lady!"
The older woman jolted awake, squinting. "Principal Jet, I was just resting my eyes while the children did their independent reading."
"That's what you called that?" Marquis gestured at two boys who quickly dropped their paper airplane competition. "Must be some new teaching method I ain't heard about yet."
"Well, if y'all paid teachers what we deserve, maybe I wouldn't need my afternoon rest." Mrs. Tolbert adjusted her glasses with dignity. "Besides, these kids are more behaved than you were at their age."
"Now why you gotta bring up ancient history?" Marquis turned to Ryan.
"Ms. Wilder, meet Mrs. Tolbert. She's been around the block a few times, teaching for the last 40 years. Used to be a full-time teacher here, but now she's just subbing after retirement. Mrs. T, this is Ms. Wilder, the new permanent teacher for this class."
Mrs. Tolbert's eyes lit up. "Oh, thank the Lord Jesus! I was about ready to say to he—" she paused and looked at the kids then back at Ryan, "to heck with it, but they keep pulling me back in." She started gathering her things. "They're all yours now, honey."
Ryan smiled at the students, who had suddenly become very interested in the new faces. "Should I introduce myself?"
"Not yet," Marquis shook his head. "Let's not start a riot before the day is over. Mrs. Tolbert, you mind staying awake until tomorrow?"
"I suppose I can manage that," Mrs. Tolbert sighed dramatically. "But only because you asked so nicely."
As they left the classroom, Ryan heard Mrs. Tolbert's voice shift into full teacher mode: "Alright, who told y'all it was recess time? Back to your seats!"
"That woman taught me in first grade," Marquis snickered. "Still gives me detention flashbacks."
They ended the tour back near the front. "Any questions?" Marquis asked. "Comments? Concerns?"
"Uhh yes. I was wondering —"
"Wait before you go I have an important question," Marquis's expression cooled. "Harold's or Uncle Remus?"
"Oh, um-" Ryan shifted, caught off guard.
"Choose carefully now. Your employment might depend on it."
"I, uh-"
"I'm playing….Maybe. Nah, for real though - but we gonna need to work on your chicken spot knowledge. This is the Southside, Ms. Wilder. That's like Chicago Culture 101."
"Hold up now. I know my wings. Born and raised over East. Matter fact, the Harold's on 53rd and Woodlawn? That's my spot."
Marquis made an exaggerated gagging sound, clutching his chest like he'd been shot. "Oh hell nah, not the Hyde Park location! That's literally the worst one in the city. You might as well be eating pigeons off the seats of the CTA."
"It is not!" Ryan laughed. "The mild sauce hits different there. It's more sweet."
"Different like food poisoning different. We definitely gonna have to educate you on the Harold's hierarchy. Can't have my teachers out here eating that crap."
Ryan forgot she was talking to her new boss - their jokes and banter had flowed as naturally as if they'd known each other for years. There was something familiar about him she couldn't quite place, like déjà vu in the middle of a first meeting.
"In all seriousness Principal…errm…. Marquis. I'm honored you chose me, pulled me from my apprenticeship and all, but I've been wondering why. There had to be more experienced teachers out there, right?"
"Word travels, Ms. Wilder." Marquis's smile held secrets. "Heard about this up-and-coming teacher who wasn't afraid to shake things up. Collins needs that fresh enthusiasm. Sometimes the old ways ain't the best ways, you feel me?"
"But you want me to start tomorrow? I don't even have lesson plans or-"
"Listen," Marquis leaned against the wall. "Mrs. Tolbert will email you what the kids been working on. It's September - school year's barely started. You got time to make it your own. Sometimes the best teaching happens when you're thinking on your feet."
"Is that your professional opinion as principal?"
"That's my professional opinion as someone who's seen enough rigid lesson plans put kids to sleep faster than Mrs. Tolbert. Look, we might be unconventional here at Collins, but these kids? They're everything. Make them believe in themselves, and you'll fit right in."
The bell rang, and Marquis was already moving. "Staff meeting at 3:30!" he called over his shoulder. "Don't be late - but also don't be too early because I most definitely will be late!"
Ryan stared after him, half expecting him to pop back around the corner yelling "Sike!" No way this man was really the principal. In her experience, principals were about as fun as tax season, but this man had the vigor of someone who accidentally walked into the job and decided to just roll with it. Either way, Collins Elementary clearly didn't do anything by the book - including hiring their administration.
Now to find a bathroom. Her nerves had turned her afternoon coffee into an emergency situation. Ryan wandered down the hallway, mind still trying to process everything, when her feet suddenly lost grip. She flailed her arms, performing what probably looked like a new TikTok dance.
"You know," a voice cut through her panic, "when I was a professional stunt double in Tokyo, I saw better falls than that. And those were intentional."
Ryan steadied herself, turning to face a woman in navy coveralls who stood perfectly still, mop in hand like some kind of cleaning zen master. The custodian's name tag read 'Alice,' decorated with what looked like ancient exorcism.
"I was just-"
"About to audition for the Mask Singer?" Alice's face remained completely solemn. "Teacher's restroom is down that hall, third door on your left." She resumed mopping with precision. "Try not to slip again - I just finished writing my memoir, and I'd hate to add a chapter about a teacher doing the electric slide on my wet floor."
"Thanks, I think?" Ryan managed.
"And Ms. Wilder?" Alice called after her, somehow knowing her name without introduction. "Welcome to Collins. Just remember - gravity is simply a suggestion. At least that's what my yoga instructor said right before he kissed me. But that's a story for another near-death experience."
Ryan hurried toward the bathroom, wondering if everyone at this school spoke in riddles and weird curveballs, or if she'd just stumbled into some kind of sitcom pilot episode.