I will get this promotion. And I will walk into that meeting with confidence.

Once I get a little reinforcement. Pushing my chair back and standing, I grab my phone, tapping on the screen and pulling up FaceTime. Our group chat is preset, so I hit call, checking my makeup as I wait for my best friends, Gemma and Harley, to pick up.

Other than a tiny zit brewing under the would-be-pasty-were-it-not-for-bronzer skin of my forehead, my face looks flawless. I touch up my matte pale pink lip anyway and fluff out my light-brown-but-highlighted-within-an-inch-of-its-life hair.

Gemma answers first. “Okay, I’ve got ten minutes until my room is flooded with twelve-year-olds and their post-lunch sweaty hormones. Hit me.”

“First, did not need that visual. Second, where’s Harley? I only have time to do this once.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Harley’s face pops up on my screen, and judging by her slightly breathless greeting, she had to duck out of her own office before answering my call. “Are we waiting for Nick?”

“Like he’d step away from his desk for a pep talk.” Gemma snorts. “Sadie, stop touching your face.”

I glare at her but also heed her advice. “First things first, appearance check.” I hold the phone as far away from my body as I can, turning slowly from one side to the other, like I’m a ballerina in a music box. Or a chicken on a spit. I learned very early on what a perfect appearance could do for a woman, and I work hard to maintain mine. Confidence in my above-average looks often helps mask the self-doubt in my brain.

“You look fine.” Gemma’s not even looking at me, currently scribbling something on her whiteboard instead of bothering to glance my way.

Harley jumps in before I can snap at Gemma. “You look perfect as always, Sadie. You got this.”

I push my shoulders back, my non-phone hand clenched in a tight fist, resting on my hip. “I am a strong warrior goddess.”

“You are a strong warrior goddess,” they both chant along with me, Harley mustering much more enthusiasm than Gemma.

The outward confidence seeps inward, drowning out my pesky negative inner thoughts. “I am going to get that promotion and show these motherfuckers who’s boss.”

“Yeah, I’m not saying that in the middle of my classroom when a kid could walk in any minute. But yes.” Gemma plops down at her desk and shoves a chip in her mouth. The loud crunching travels through the phone, making my shoulders tense up.

I drop the mask for a brief second. “Guys.”