Chapter 8: A New Start

I felt nothing at all.

Nobody knows those students better than me.

They have no self-motivation, only know how to be pushed along. Without a homeroom teacher dragging them, just wait and see.

After a couple weeks of rest, Maplewood Prep—the private school that once tried to recruit me—called:

"Mr. Grant, you’re welcome here anytime."

They still offered double my old salary.

I made one thing clear before I came: absolutely no homeroom teacher duties.

As a subject teacher, I didn’t have to worry about endless class management, parent-teacher drama, crazy requests, or losing my personal time.

Just teach, and I wouldn’t have to get my heart stomped on again.

"Mr. Grant, your arrival is a lifesaver. Our last math teacher’s on maternity leave, and we were desperate."

The new class’s homeroom teacher greeted me warmly.

I was still teaching a graduating class.

After Ms. Turner, the homeroom teacher, added me to the Senior Year Class Two group, I posted a formal greeting.

To my surprise, the parents were excited:

"Wait, are you THE Mr. Grant from Lincoln High?"

"Mr. Grant, I watched your public math class online—it was so good. You really know how to teach."

"I was anxious before, but now that you’re here, I’m not worried at all."

I replied politely:

"Thank you for your trust. I’ll do my best teaching math for your kids. If you have any suggestions or concerns, just let me know."

I figured some parents would add me as a friend.

Back at my old school, parents added every teacher just so they could text them any time—no boundaries at all.

But here, not a single parent added me privately.

I leaned back in my new office chair and let out a little laugh. For the first time in ages, I felt a bit lighter, like I’d finally stepped onto solid ground after years of slogging through quicksand.