Taylor's POV
So, maybe alcohol isn't the best choice in my current state. I barely remember getting home the other night, but according to Abigail it would've been a bigger issue if the blonde from the bar hadn't stepped in to help us out. I was so embarrassed, but I guess it needed to happen at some point, so now I can just work on moving on and not letting myself get that drunk again.
Matt and Abigail are spending one of his rare days off together, so I was happy when I got the call about a job interview at the local elementary school. Ever since I was a little girl I loved the idea of being a teacher and shaping young minds, and I'm really excited about the fact that I might actually get my dream job.
I park my car close to the front entrance, since its summer break there isn't really anyone around so that's not a hard feat. It's not a big school since it's mainly the kids from the military base who end up going here, but the kids toys in the playground and a little vegetable garden amongst the flowers and bird feeders shows that it's a very loved place indeed.
The inside isn't much different either, the walls are covered in art and different achievements of the students, it's not cold and unwelcoming. "Hey, my name's Taylor Swift, I've got an interview with the principal?" I smile sweetly at the receptionist, and she looks up to me with a kind smile in return, "take a seat, sweetie, he'll be right on his way."
Southern charm was definitely a thing in Nashville, but the people here are just so much nicer than back home. I'm nervous to say the least, I'm twenty five and I've never had any kind of job, so I have no clue how this is going to go.
"Miss Swift?" I'm startled by a voice and I stand up, offering the man my hand immediately, "that's me, sir." He chuckles as he shakes my hand, "I'm Mr Goodwin, why don't you follow me." He leads the way into his office and I follow him, butterflies still fluttering about in the pit of my stomach.
"So, Miss Swift, what brought you to our gates?" I cross my hands neatly in my lap as I smile, tucking one of my blonde curls behind my ear, "I always wanted to be an elementary teacher, but up until lately I had more pressing commitments. Then I decided that it was time to put down roots somewhere new, so I moved out to Texas and now I'm hoping that I can finally have my dream job here." I quickly realised that keeping my life story to myself is best, especially here, vague will go further. "What do you think you could bring to our school as a teacher?" he's smiling at me, so I hope that's a good sign, but I just keep my aura of fake confidence around me either way. "I want to shape young minds and help guide them through life the right way, and I feel like my patience and respect for the children as human beings will help them learn to have faith and be confident within themselves."
You wouldn't be wrong if you said I was rehearsed, but I want this job so badly, nevermind the fact that I need it to be able to live out here. "So, you're looking to stay in Texas on a long term basis?" He's reading over my resume and I know on paper I'm the perfect candidate; unmarried, no kids to care for, no other commitments apart from the job. "Yes sir, Corpus Christi looks like home from here out," I don't know if that's completely true, I might move on, but for the foreseeable future I have no impulse to move on. "That's good, a lot of our kids don't really have much stability with their parents being deployed so often, we like to be that place of security for them."
I never thought about that, but I guess school does become like a second home and for some of these kids they're barely going to know what home feels like if they're constantly being uprooted. This definitely feels like the right fit for me, I can only hope that Mr Goodwin thinks the same.
Karlie's POV
"Did you have fun, buddy?" I grin as Gray comes running towards me, and I open my arms to my son. "I drawed you a picture, mama," he thrusts the sheet of paper towards me and I take it with as much enthusiasm as he gives it to me with, "this is amazing, you're my little Picasso," I make a huge deal out of it even though I'm not exactly sure what it's meant to be. "We can put it on the refrigerator the second we get home," I plant a kiss on his cheek as I lift him up, carrying the four year old as we leave the school.
