Angela walked in and closed the door behind her.
"Phylicia... again, I was coming to say thank you for helping out with Hakeem today." she said. Making sure to put emphasis on her name.
"Well, are you going to have a seat, or are you going to continue to stand there?" Phylicia asked. She looked up from her grade book while twirling the pen in her hand. "Take a seat Angela." she made a hand gesture to the chair. "You don't have to stand there all awkward. You're making me uneasy."
"Oh, my apologies. I didn't plan on staying long Ms. Bossy." Angela said in a playful manner.
She could see why the kids called her The Warden. Of course, her bossiness didn't intimidate her, but she understood the nickname. Angela grabbed the nearest chair, pulled it closer to the desk, and took a seat.
Phylicia paused, then shot Angela a look. "So, how do you know me?" Angela questioned. "Earlier when I was introducing myself, you cut me off." She paused before continuing.
"I found that rude by the way. You said you already knew who I was." Angela spoke up, hoping to keep the conversation going.
"I did say that."
A sly smirk appeared on Phylicia's lips. "Darling, nothing gets past me in this school. I know everything and everyone."
"So when we're getting a new freshman English teacher by the name of Angela Evelyn Bassett. Who attended the University of Tampa on a full-ride scholarship and majored in Education with a minor in theatre arts; I know about it."
The younger woman sat there shocked, but slightly amused.
"How did y— that sounds a bit stalker-ish, if you ask me."
"Stalker? Never. Just a need to know everything." Phylicia replied smoothly.
"If you're wondering how I know these things. let's just say I have an acquaintance." She winked at Angela.
"You seem to know quite a bit about me. What about you?"
"What about me? What is it exactly that you'd like to know?"
At this point, Phylicia's attention was no longer on entering grades, but fully on Angela.
There were so many things Angela wanted to know, but she decided to start simple. She had time to get to know the beautiful woman.
"Whatever you're willing to tell me," Angela said. What she really wanted to ask was why people hated her.
"Well, let's see. I'm 33. I started teaching here when I was around your age. I'm an alumna. My father was the principal of this school, and my mother was the theatre teacher. My sister Debbie used to teach dance here, but now she choreographs for film and TV. I'm divorced. I don't have any children. I have a dog named Willie. I think that covers everything. Is there anything else you'd like to know, Ms. Angela?"
She's divorced, Angela thought silently, making a mental note.
"Oh no, I don't want to pry. I figure we have the rest of the school year to get to know each other."
"Mmhmm. Very well," Phylicia nodded as silence filled the room.
It wasn't awkward—more like they were waiting for the other to continue.
"There is one thing..." Angela said.
"And that is?"
"Why do people dislike you so much?"
"What do you mean?" Phylicia asked, though she already knew.
"When I came in this morning, I was warned to stay clear of you because you aren't the nicest person. The students call you The Warden compared to the other teachers."
