Ben knocked on the doorframe of Zach’s room. “You coming to Bible study tonight?”

Zach sighed and looked away from the pile of papers he was grading. “Might as well. These aren’t going anywhere and if I keep staring at them, it’s just going to convince me that I’m a horrible teacher.”

“I never knew a teacher who took it personally when we didn’t understand something. You’re one of a kind, man.”

Zach shook his head. “I’m really not. I’d say it’s pretty typical for the teachers who manage to stay in the profession more than a year or two. Of course, not everyone shows it. And maybe after twenty or so years, you get over it. But the majority care.”

“Take a break. Maybe when you get back it won’t look so bleak.”

Or it’d just look even worse. That was more likely. These kids...he enjoyed them, but they had so many more problems than figuring out Algebra. And he couldn’t even help them do that. “They say miracles can happen. But I’ll tell you, Ben, I’m beginning to think I’m not cut out for working at a school like this one. Would I be better off at a more typical suburban school? Someplace where the only thing my students have to worry about are their grades, not where their next meal is coming from or whether or not they can avoid getting sucked into a gang before they graduate?”

Ben’s eyebrows rose. “I guess I always assumed you taught downtown because of kids like that. Not in spite of it.”

“Apparently I convinced everyone of that. Everyone but me, at least. I took this job because it was the only one I got offered. The perk of having my college loans taken care of pushed me over the edge. The school system here in the suburbs is one of the best in the country. It isn’t as if they have trouble filling their spots. All I ever got from them was a ‘thank you for your interest’ type of letter.” Zach grabbed his Bible and notebook off the nightstand. “Now there’s an opening out here for a mid-year replacement and I’m tempted. Seriously tempted.”

Ben nodded and started down the hall. “What about Amy?”

“What about her?” Zach jangled the keys and change in his pocket. “Who’s driving?”

“You can. Jackson’s meeting us there. You don’t think she’ll mind if you change schools?”

Would she? Maybe it’d be less convenient to grab a quick lunch together if their schedules aligned, but it wasn’t as if that happened very often. “I imagine we’d still see each other basically the same amount. And with a job out here, and the salary that goes with working in the ‘burbs, I’d be in a much better position to actually support us down the line.”

“Ha! I knew your thoughts were headed that way. Jackson said there was no way you were that serious, but I knew it.” Ben slapped Zach’s shoulder before crossing to the passenger side of the car. “That said, what has Amy said about this new job possibility?”

“I haven’t brought it up. I don’t even know if I’m going to apply. There have to be a ton of people who want it, so it’s not even a guarantee I’d get an offer if I do throw my hat in the ring.”

“Mm hmm.”

Zach frowned as he backed down the driveway. What did that mean? “What?”

Ben licked his lips. “Look. I’m not relationship expert, so take this with a grain of salt, but if I learned one thing on my journey to engagement with Becca, it was the importance of open, clear, and utterly honest communication. Seems to me that if you want Amy to be a big part of your life now and in the future, then you need to be up front about something like this.”

Zach sighed. Ben was probably right. But he hadn’t even decided if he was going to apply for the job yet and submissions closed on Friday. There simply wasn’t time to make up his mind and have a conversation with her about it.

Zach flipped over and stared at the ceiling. The peace he’d hoped to get from Bible study was nowhere to be found. Should he apply for the job or not? So many conflicting rationalizations flitted through his brain. There was the whole “you don’t have because you don’t ask” school of thought. And there was value to that. If he didn’t apply, he was stuck with his current job. Shouldn’t it say something that ‘stuck’ was the word that he came up with every time he thought about his current position? The kids were, by and large, great kids, once you overlooked the politics of teaching, parents, culture at large, and all crazy influences they had. At heart, they were good kids. He had to believe it. But he just wanted to teach math and have a shred of hope that one, maybe two, of his students would see the beauty instead of the stigma that society put on it. The magnet school offered that in spades. In all likelihood, the majority of those students would at least understand the point of math, even if they didn’t see the beauty.

But what if God wanted him where he was? His chest constricted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Would God really do that to him? He scoffed. If that’s where God wanted to use him, yeah. And it’d be smart if he stopped griping about it. Even in his head. Zach sighed. It wasn’t as if his current job was bad. He liked his coworkers and most of the kids. The commute wasn’t even that bad, all things considered. And yet...he was restless. But was that from God, shaking him up so that he’d be willing to move? Or was it his flesh looking for something easy, regardless of God’s plan?

And none of that gave him an answer about what to do. Did he apply and simply pray that God would make it clear what he should do? Of course, the best way would be to not get the job if he applied. Then he’d be sure. But what if he got it? What then? How would he know whether or not to take it? And if he left mid-year...aside from the contract penalty—which he could deal with, it wasn’t horrible—what would that mean for his current students?

He grimaced. How was he only just thinking of them now? If he left, they’d either end up with a long-term sub or, worst case, a stream of subs who had no clue about anything having to do with math. The few times he’d been sick, he’d left detailed plans and still...it hadn’t been pretty. Could he do that to them? But was it his responsibility to worry about them? Of course it was. Right now, they were his job. Jesus, please, tell me what to do.

Zach kicked off the covers and punched the button to turn on the lamp on his night stand. When it all boiled down, if he didn’t apply, he’d always wonder. He’d just have to trust that God would help him know what to do if they ended up offering him the job.

“You look rough.”

Zach scrubbed his hands over his face and grabbed one of the clean mugs off the shelf in the Faculty Lounge. “Thanks a lot.”

Amy cocked her head to the side. “Sorry. Are you getting sick?”

“No.” He poured coffee into the mug. “Didn’t sleep.”

“Everything okay?” Her brow furrowed with obvious concern. “Is there anything I can do?”

He shook his head. He’d spent the first half of the night tossing and turning as he wrestled with the decision to apply. It had taken most of the rest of the night to fill out the application and get it submitted before he could change his mind. After that, Zach had managed about an hour of sleep before his alarm went off. He probably would’ve been better off just staying up. And he didn’t really want to get into any of that with Amy. Especially not at school. Even if Ben was right and he needed to tell her about it, this wasn’t the time or place. It was unlikely that they’d fire him if they found out he was looking—half the teachers here probably had their resumes out as a matter of course—but it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. “I’m good. Just...one of those nights, you know? Thanks though. How are you?”

She smiled and everything in him lightened. “I’m doing great. Since they haven’t needed me for classes this week, I’m actually caught up with my real job and all the exciting paperwork that goes along with it. Of course it’s also given me a chance to deal with the flood of complaints coming in about the new food regulations they’re implementing. Like I have any ability to do something about it. But even with that, I think I’m ready for our first rehearsal this afternoon.”

The rehearsal. He’d forgotten about that. “I accidentally scheduled a make-up test and tutoring session this afternoon. I can try...”

“Don’t worry about it. Terri and I talked. We figure you’re probably better off doing the sets, since you said singing wasn’t really your thing anyway. So if you can’t make the rehearsals, it’s not a big deal. Though if you can come to the next one, we’ll figure out who wants to help with sets and crew and get you a team put together.”

“That I can do. Though if you’d remind me on Monday so I don’t forget, it’d be good. I’ll write it down when I get to my room though. That should help. Probably.”

Amy laughed and patted his arm. “You’re fine. Go drink that coffee and get ready for all the fresh, young minds who’ll be joining you before you know it.”

Zach lifted his mug in a salute, ignoring the heat that lingered where her fingers had brushed. He’d think about that later, when he wasn’t sleep deprived.