“Let’s just get through this, first,” I said. “Then you can guilt trip me about how mean I’m being to the poor, poor Amazons.”

Tracy walked over to the front door where our students had all dutifully lined up (just as Natasha was coming out of the bathroom). She opened it and my class dutifully marched to the cafeteria where parents were already waiting for our big show.

I’ve said it before, but I hated the cafeteria. Too loud. Too noisy. Too crowded. Packed to the gills during mealtimes and scarily quiet at most other instances. I wasn’t close enough friends with anyone to warrant spending my precious twenty-five minutes with the other teachers in the connected lounge.