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Chapter 2 by dkgooner dkgooner

Who are you?

The Mother Hen, Pink Rose’s headmistress Diana Naylor

As you make your way up along the path the sound of chirping bird is the only thing heard except for your feet hitting the dirt path and your own breathing. Reaching the top of the small hill you slow to a stop and put your hands on your hips, watching the Pink Rose Academy in between the rolling hills, the forest and the lake surrounding it. The old main building with its grey stone front being illuminated by the early morning sun rising over the prestigious private school.

With your hands on your slender waist, your chest heaving as you catch your breath, you take in the view. You really love the view from this spot as a new day dawns, and you've gotten pretty good at timing your daily morning run so the sun is just about rising whenever you reach this point. You have had a good number of years to perfect this after a couple of years as the school’s headmistress, though you never ran this route back when you yourself attended the school, barely being anywhere close to awake as this point of the day back during your late teens.

As you resume your run, you consider the role this old school had come to play in your life, returning here to teach and then for the past three years serving as the headmistress certainly hadn’t been in the cards when your parents more or less made the choice on your behalf to send you here all those years ago. You quite enjoyed the work and the place, giving something back and trying to help and be a positive influence to these young girls who would go on to be influential figures in one form or another elsewhere.

So, life is pretty good. Except for the one thing which will be taking up your morning today, just the thought of it making you almost grit your teeth, picking up the pace as you get closer to the school. In itself four new teachers is not too much out of the ordinary, though a relatively high turnover for one year, but that the board of regents had gone against all traditions and hired male teachers was simply outrageous.

Need for discipline they’d argued, but the addition of male teachers goes against everything this place is supposed to be, and the hormone driven behavioral issues of some of the girls would only be exacerbated by having teachers of the opposite sex interacting with them. Yes, you had to admit, things really had seemed to spin out of control last year, with the tragic incident with Miss Samuels as the low point of the year, and your entire tenure as headmistress… but to you some kind of military style discipline just seemed like a complete overreaction.

At least you got to have some influence on the hiring process for some of these new staff members, though they had insisted on some soldier to take over as dean of students, a position left vacant for years, ever since Mrs. Marshall's sudden retirement. The other men at least had teaching experience and their credentials in order… well, mostly.

He’ll also be a great asset to our various athletics programs had been your argument when you suggested the young, former minor league baseball player to fill the open physical education position. It hadn’t mattered too much as the board seemed perfectly content to follow your suggestion with no remarks. Unlike Honey you recall, a smirk forms on your lips as you make the last turn towards the school, maintaining a steady pace for the final stretch as you remember the wide grin and the big eyes on your friend and fellow teacher, Honoré Thibodeaux, when she connected the name she had read from the list put onto the bulletin board with that night a few years back.

Ever since she cornered you by yourself later that day the playful teasing had been relentless, though with something of a respite over the summer break where you mostly kept in touch over the phone. But now as the day for the new arrivals approached she had some fresh remarks about the young stud you had been so captivated by arriving at the Pink Rose. How she herself did not feel the slightest bit of trepidation spoke to the difference between the two of you, which you knew and which was why you never went to her prior to making your suggestion… if it had been you, rather than Honey, who had gone home with the cute shortstop that night he most certainly wouldn’t be getting his first job out of school here.

Finishing your run, you slow to a walk and catch your breath as you head towards the Mellon building, close to the entrance you stop and do some stretches. As you raise your upper body up after having bent forward to your hamstrings you see Manny Ortiz, the man in charge of the maintenance staff, walking towards you.

“Good morning, Miss Naylor” he greets you.

“Mr. Ortiz,” you give a friendly nod and smile, “- how’s everything this morning, ready for the arrivals?”

“Yes ma’am, we should be all clear. The girls are going through the rooms still unoccupied this morning…” the custodian supervisor says, his eyes trained on yours after a few brief glances up and down you body when you approached, “- then we’ll see what comes in over the coming days.”

You smile at the slight hardening of the expression on Manny’s face as he adds the last bit, having his own start of the year tradition of being frustrated by girls used to having their way making complaints to the custodian staff.

“Good,” you smile and place a hand on his shoulder, “- can always count on you, Manny.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smiles as you glide past him and steps towards the entrance of the building.

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On to your apartment without further ado?

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