This was their second emergency all-staff meeting in a week, and from the rumors that had circulated in the teachers’ lounge at lunch, it was the first time William Henry Harrison High had ever had all-staffs on consecutive days. It was not how Ms. Somers preferred to spend her afternoons. Not that she had a fabulous evening planned. She’d hoped to catch up on some stuff around the house. Do a load of laundry. Vacuum while listening to Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins in D Minor.

Even thinking about it made her feel depressed. This was what she looked forward to at the end of the day? Vacuuming and Bach?

(No disrespect to Bach, of course. It was one of her favorite concertos.)

“Hey.” Coach Mendoza slid into the seat next to the one next to Ms. Somers’s aisle seat, leaving one metal folding chair in between them.

“Still haven’t gotten a pair of ears from Sophie Maeby?” she asked.

“Didn’t think they matched my hair,” Coach Mendoza teased. “Teddy’s a good kid. And he knows I think that without me dressing up like a bear,” he added, on a more serious note. “Besides, Sophie was all out. Again. But she’s apparently making more for tomorrow.”

“Excuse me.”

Mr. Dykstra squeezed past Ms. Somers and settled into the chair between her and Coach Mendoza. She was disappointed to see Coach Mendoza lean back into his seat, away from her. Why did Mr. Dykstra have to sit here, of all places? But, she supposed, the chairs were filling up now, as Principal Manteghi strode to the front of the gym.

“Thank you for joining me on short notice.” Principal Manteghi tapped the microphone for silence. She shuffled some papers in her hands and placed them on top of the podium. “And thank you to the maintenance team for setting up the chairs in the gym on such short notice. Again.”

“This school is in a state of chaos!” Ms. Powell shot to her feet, arm thrust up into the air. “What are your plans to restore order to the halls?”

“Calm down, Powell!” Ms. Somers turned around to see Mr. Rizzo shouting from the back row. He was wearing a pair of teddy bear ears. They were spreading to the staff now, too? Sure, Mendoza had joked about getting some ears, but she hadn’t seen any teachers actually wearing them before. Would Ms. Somers be expected to take a side? She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to believe that either Kim or Teddy was at fault. Honestly, she didn’t even really want to believe they’d actually broken up. “We’ve got a little thing in the teachers’ lounge called Tension Tamer Tea, Powell. Heard of it? Sounds like somebody needs a strong cup!”

“I thought we agreed that this year, all-staffs would be a heckling-free zone!” Ms. Powell said.

“Who’s heckling?” Mr. Rizzo looked around the back row like he was searching for hidden hecklers.

“I don’t think the school is in a state of chaos,” Coach Finn said pointedly from the row in front of Ms. Somers, “but don’t you think these teddy bear ears are a step too far?”

“A step too far? A step too far?” Mr. Rizzo repeated. “Since when is a headband a step too far?”

“When it hurts other students,” Coach Finn said.

“I agree with Coach Finn,” Ms. Johansson said. She was also in the row ahead of Ms. Somers. Ms. Johansson had her computer open like she was taking notes, but it looked like she was shopping for boots online. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s hurting anybody, but the ears are a distraction. Never mind that they’re supporting Teddy, when we all know the breakup was his fault.”

“It was Kim’s fault,” Ms. Powell said.

“If we can get a subpoena for Teddy Lin’s DMs like I keep asking, then we can finally have conclusive proof that it was his fault,” Ms. Johansson said. “We need to see those DMs. The International Olympic Committee needs to see those DMs. This isn’t just about William Henry Harrison High anymore. It’s about America!”

Mr. Rizzo started to hum the opening bars of “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Principal Manteghi silenced him with a very effective look.

“We are not here to discuss the breakup of two of our students,” Principal Manteghi reminded everyone. Although it seemed like that was exactly what they were doing.

“There’s nothing in the Student Code of Conduct that expressly forbids animal ears,” Mr. Rizzo said. “Honestly, if we start legislating animal ears, we may be preventing a student from expressing themselves in the future. Like, remember that cape boy? What was his name?”

“Ari Silver,” Coach Mendoza said. “Kid wore a cape every day for four years,” he explained to Ms. Somers in an undertone, leaning forward in front of Mr. Dykstra. “He graduated last year—before you got here.”

“Like a superhero cape?” Ms. Somers asked.

“Like a wizard cape,” Coach Mendoza answered.

“Yeah! Like the cape boy!” Mr. Rizzo snapped his fingers in recognition. “What if some kid wants to dress like an animal every day, and we’re taking that future child’s liberty away from them? It’s crucial for teens to be able to manifest their individuality at this stage in their development!”

“You just want an excuse to wear a costume,” Ms. Johansson said dismissively. “Anything that’ll let you lord your Halloween costume contest win over the rest of us.”

“This has nothing to do with that!” Mr. Rizzo protested. “I was a taco for Halloween. A taco is nothing like a bear!”

“Focus, please!” Principal Manteghi tapped on the microphone.

Ms. Somers hadn’t realized feelings about the fact that Mr. Rizzo had won the faculty costume contest for the fifth year in a row ran so deeply. But it had been an extremely impressive taco. If Ms. Johansson had thought she’d beat out a taco with her fairy costume, she had been kidding herself. The kids were way too old to care about fairies anymore.

Although maybe the cape boy would have voted for it.

“If I was going to be a bear, let me tell you, I wouldn’t just be wearing ears,” Mr. Rizzo continued, ignoring Principal Manteghi’s exhortations to focus. “I’d be so bearlike that somebody would call Animal Control again.”

“Did they end up getting all the snakes?” Ms. Johansson asked. “This is exactly why we shouldn’t let students wear the ears. We’re supporting a snake criminal.”

“There were no snakes,” Coach Mendoza said. “Some freshman girl heard a rumor, got scared, and called Animal Control.”

“See? This is what I mean!” Ms. Powell said. “Total chaos!”

“Maybe there wouldn’t be so much chaos if some people weren’t trying to give every Teddy Bear in sight a demerit for some fabricated reason,” Mr. Rizzo responded. “I’ve had Teddy Bears in and out of my classroom all day, complaining that they’re being targeted by certain members of the staff.”

“I can assure you every demerit I’ve ever given was for entirely sound reasons,” Ms. Powell claimed. “Like disruption of the educational process!”

“Powell, I’m not even talking about you!” Mr. Rizzo threw up his hands in exasperation. “Everyone knows you’re Team Teddy.”

“If we can focus for a minute here, I’d like to discuss the fact that my educational process is actually being disrupted.” Ms. Somers squinted toward the front of the room, trying to figure out who was speaking way up in the first row. She wished she hadn’t left her distance glasses in the car. “You freshman teachers have it easy—they’re all on the same side. All of the juniors were crazy today. They pushed their desks to opposite sides of the rooms, refused to do any small group work with someone who wasn’t on their ‘team,’ and turned in essays about why they were Team Teddy or Team Kim instead of the document-based question they were supposed to be answering on Expansion and the Jacksonian Era. Also, I believe there may have been some intentional farting for comedic effect.”

“I thought the Fart Bandit had been apprehended!” Ms. Johansson shrieked. “Wasn’t it a freshman? Is it spreading to the junior class? Does the Fart Bandit have disciples now?!”

“I can promise you this—the Fart Bandit is a member of Team Kim,” Ms. Powell pronounced solemnly.

“FOCUS!” Feedback squealed out of Principal Manteghi’s microphone. Ms. Somers clapped her hands over her ears.

Coach Finn raised her hand, waited to be called on, and said, calmly, “I think the ears are making Kim feel bad, and that’s why we need to shut them down.”

“But what about Teddy?” Coach Mendoza asked. “Isn’t it nice for him to get a little support from his friends and teammates?”

“Especially considering the way he was savagely attacked earlier last week?” Ms. Powell asked shrilly.

“Calm down, Powell, you’re making it sound like someone jumped him in the parking lot,” Coach Finn said.

“Emotional damage leaves lasting wounds!” Ms. Powell retorted.

“Clearly,” Ms. Johansson said in a way that made Ms. Somers think she wasn’t talking about Teddy.

“People are wearing red ribbons in their hair to support Kim,” Coach Mendoza said.

“They’ve also drained the art room of all the red paint,” Mr. Buckley, the art teacher, said. “There’s not a drop left!”

“Ribbons, ears, it’s all the same thing,” Coach Mendoza said. “The kids just want to support their friends.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Mr. Rizzo scoffed. “The ears are a statement. The ribbons are lazy.”

“It’s hard to tell the kids apart when they all look like bears,” Mr. Dykstra added.

Mr. Dykstra was notorious for being unable to learn his students’ names well into the second semester. Ms. Somers had an absurd vision of him addressing them all as Bear. She let out a giggle, then quickly stifled it.

“Since there is nothing in the handbook preventing the wearing of animal ears or hair ribbons or headbands, I will let the students proceed,” Principal Manteghi said.

“But—”

“While keeping a close eye on the situation, making sure to monitor it for any future escalation,” Principal Manteghi concluded, cutting off Ms. Powell’s protest. Ms. Powell sank to her seat, a disgruntled look on her face.

“Can you believe this Tom and Kelly nonsense?” Mr. Dykstra asked Ms. Somers in an undertone while Principal Manteghi shuffled some papers up at the podium. “I don’t understand why people are getting all bent out of shape about some breakup.”

“Kim and Teddy,” Ms. Somers corrected him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Tom and Kelly, they’ve been causin’ problems from the get-go,” Coach Mendoza said from the other side of Mr. Dykstra, his voice a gruff approximation of Mr. Dykstra’s low tones.

Ms. Somers turned her face away so he wouldn’t see her laugh.

“Sounds like it,” Mr. Dykstra agreed. “Maybe give ’em both in-school suspension. Give ’em a minute to think about why they’ve got everyone running around dressed up like circus animals.”

“It’s Kim Landis-Lilley and Teddy Lin,” Ms. Somers said. “I’m pretty sure you teach them.”

“Oh, Kim and Teddy,” Mr. Dykstra said, realization dawning. “We’re still talking about that? I thought they broke up on Monday?”

Ms. Somers couldn’t believe it had only been two days.

“Thank you for voicing your concerns,” Principal Manteghi said, “but this meeting was not called to discuss animal ears. I’d like to introduce you to our newest staff member, Chris Guzman.” A man Ms. Somers didn’t recognize stood up from the first row, turned around, smiled, and waved at all the teachers. “Mr. Guzman will be covering for Señora Parrilla during her maternity leave, effective immediately.”

“Immediately?” someone in the front row asked—probably someone from the Spanish department.

“Yes,” Principal Manteghi confirmed. “Everything’s fine, but Señora Parrilla will be on bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy.”

Ms. Somers hoped Señora Parrilla would be okay. And she hoped Mr. Guzman would be okay, too, thrown headfirst into what was undoubtedly the weirdest episode in William Henry Harrison High history.

Ms. Johansson raised her hand.

“Who’s taking over as Prom Committee advisor?” she asked.

“That would also be Mr. Guzman,” Principal Manteghi said.

Mr. Dykstra snorted something through his mustache that sounded an awful lot like “sucker.”

“And a big thank-you to Ms. Somers, for filling up our last prom chaperone spot,” Principal Manteghi said, and Ms. Somers blushed as everyone looked at her and gave her a halfhearted round of applause.

“So you’re going to the prom, Somers.” Coach Mendoza leaned behind Mr. Dykstra to talk to her. “What made you sign up?”

“Someone told me it would be fun,” she whispered back, then quickly looked forward so Principal Manteghi wouldn’t glare at her for talking during the meeting.

“It will be. This is my fourth prom—I’ll make sure we get good assignments. If we’re lucky, we’ll get stationed right on the dance floor.”

“On the dance floor?” Would that mean they’d be dancing … together? Ms. Somers had a vision of herself swaying in the gym under the disco ball, wrapped up in Coach Mendoza’s strong arms.

Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. Ms. Somers was chaperoning the prom, not attending it.

“Oh, yeah. Our very presence is meant to discourage any kind of inappropriate dancing. Since teachers are such trolls.”

Coach Mendoza, with a dimple that revealed itself in his left cheek when he smiled, was nothing like a troll.

“Rizzo got removed from dance floor duty last year after he did too many coffee grinders, so I think you’ll be in luck,” Coach Mendoza said. “I think that second dance floor spot has your name on it, Somers.”

“You’re both suckers,” Mr. Dykstra said. Ms. Somers jumped—she’d forgotten Mr. Dykstra was sitting between them. “I wouldn’t touch that prom with a ten-foot pole. It’ll be all dancing bears and nonsense.”

“I’m sure all of this Kim-and-Teddy stuff will be over by then,” Ms. Somers murmured. It would be. Wouldn’t it? She couldn’t imagine it stretching over the next couple weeks and into May.

“That’s why I get my chaperone credits during the chess tournament in January,” Mr. Dykstra continued, like Ms. Somers hadn’t said anything. “Those kids are zero percent nonsense.”

“Nothing worse than nonsense,” Coach Mendoza agreed. He winked at Ms. Somers behind Mr. Dykstra’s back.

Ms. Somers wondered if maybe her life had been missing a certain amount of nonsense.