She stands up and heaves the giant plastic bag she carried in over to where I’m sitting. “I made youbaonfor a few days.” She grips my face, using her thumbs to wipe the tears running down my cheeks. “But I’m going to see you soon.”
Gloria leaves my classroom, but I only have five seconds to break down before Emmanuel, Mia, and Tamika barge into my classroom.
“We saw Mrs. Flores come in here—oh boy,” Mia says.
“Noooo,” wails Emmanuel. “I didn’t wear the good Korean eyeliner today. I’m not ready to cry,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
“Georgia,” Tamika says, taking my hand.
They hold me for a few minutes.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I get out between heaves.
“You don’t have to, honey,” croons Emmanuel, who is petting my hair.
“We can talk about something else?” Mia says.
I take deep breaths, then push them away. “I need help with Max. I don’t know what to do about him.”
“Deflecting is such a healthy coping mechanism,” muttersEmmanuel.
Tamika smacks him. “Have you talked to Jermaine? Our social worker?” she asks.
I shake my head, “no.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Mia chimes in. “Jermaine would have strategies you could use in class with Max. Maybe he could even see Max for at-risk counseling.”
I nod, wiping my nose on my sleeve. “I’ll look for him later today. Thanks, guys.”
“Anytime, Garbage Juice.” Emmanuel sniffs the air. “Is that Filipino food I smell?”
“Go for it,” I tell my team, and they sprint towards the bag.
“Do you know any of Max’s social history this year?” Jermaine asks me later that day.
“A little. I know he was living with dad at the beginning of the year. Then dad caused that incident during the Fall Festival and went to jail, maybe?” I answer him.
“Oh shit. Yeah, I remember that. I think he did, but he got out after a bit because the charges didn’t stick, because he didn’t actually touch anyone. At least that’s what Oliver said when he told me about the order of protection,” he says.
I wince at Oliver’s name. “Yeah. But then during that time Max went to live with mom. I think he’s been with her ever since.”
He nods. “Who has custody?”
“I think they’re battling it out now. But I think mom’s going to get it.”
“So what behaviors has he been exhibiting in class?” Jermaine asks then.
“It’s been kind of a roller coaster with him,” I start. “In thebeginning of the year, when he was with dad, he was a mess. Unkind… mean, really. But then when he went to live with mom, he started getting better. He was happier. Nicer to everyone. Making friends. He and I built up a pretty good rapport. But lately he’s been… not mean, and unkind, not like before. But like… attention seeking. Naughty, maybe. He’s been driving me crazy. Mom said he’s been doing the same thing to her at home.”
Jermaine nods.
“Oh, but Max got into a fight with Kyrie at recess. And you know Kyrie,” I tell him, giving him a look.
“Is that the Dungeons and Dragons kid? The kindest friend in the universe? Who would never hurt a fly? Or even pull his nose out of whatever sci-fi he’s reading?”
“That’s him.”
“Yikes.” He looks at the ceiling, thinking. “Well, I do have some room in my schedule for at-risk counseling. I could pull him from class and talk to him for like thirty minutes a week, see what’s going on. Try to teach him some healthy coping strategies, social skills to use with his peers, build up his self-confidence, self-esteem, that sort of thing.”
