Kate
“So, you’re saying whenwe eat cheese”—Claire’s face twists with disgust—“we’re eating fungus?” The class cringes at her question.
“I’m saying,” I start as I shut my textbook, officially giving up for the day, “that cheese is produced through fungal and bacterial activity.”
“Bacteria?” Tess whines.
I rub my temples and reassure the class. “It’s just how cheese is made, you guys.”
“No wonder you’re vegan,” Claire remarks, shaking her shoulders as if the conversation has physically accosted her.
“What about meat, then?” Travis shoots his hand up. I guess we might as well stay on this topic. I check my watch, praying the universe speeds up time. “Does it have bacteria?”
“It could, but it shouldn’t be eaten if it does.”
“What if it was roasted on a spit?”
“Dude, let it go.” Devon tosses a pen cap at Travis’s head.
“I can’t! I’ll probably never get a chance again!” Travis groans, attempting to throw his pop quiz paper at Devon. It flutters slowly to the floor between them.
“What are you—”
“Travis is just pissy he didn’t get to see a pig roast at camp,” Ethan murmurs from the back.
“Oh, why?” The class ignores my question, making themselves busy with their pen and paper. Whenever any of them are in cahoots about something, they do a terrible job at hiding it. Last fall, they really thought their plans to crash the school board meeting for Ellie and Benny would go unnoticed. Secret meetings in the chemistry lab were my first sign that something was up—most of these kids never set foot in that area.
Silence fills the room, so I ask the looming question, “What happened to the pig roast?”
The bell rings, and a wave of relief washes over their faces as they gather their things.
“No homework this weekend, but please have your final presentation topics chosen by next week. We will work in groups.” My words are directed at an empty class as the students rush out as fast as humanly possible.
Tidying up my desk, I check my phone and see a notification from Derek, my newest online buddy. It feels weird calling him that, but there’s no other way to put it. This online dating situation has flooded my inbox with so many options I can’t fully wrap my head around it. So, in an attempt to sidestep the gnawing feeling of desperation that likes to make itself known anytime I scope the selection pool, I have elected to call them online buddies—people I’m getting to know, feeling out, with very open-handed expectations. A kind of judgment-free zone I’ve created for myself. It’s made it more enjoyable these last couple of weeks. The less pressure surrounding this venture, thebetter. I’m pretty sure I already have everyone and their dog judging me. I don’t need to judge myself too.
DerekL123:Hey! Are we still on for today?
A smile creeps across my face as I respond with an eager yes. Derek has been the best of the bunch lately, very much wedding-date material—which, I will admit, has become a driving force for speeding this process along. Up until recently, it had nothing to do with Ellie and Benny’s upcoming nuptials, but when Ellie reminded me that we have six months until the altar, I started to panic. Swiping right on every option with a full set of teeth was step one. Now I have to establish a relationship with someone and get to a comfortable place where asking them to be my date to the wedding isn’t alarming.
Derek is an electrician, currently in school to get his MBA, with hopes to own and operate his own business one day. He has zero pets, zero dolls, and, so far, zero red flags. A perfectly harmless option.
I make my way down the hall to drop off some forms Emma asked me to handle before prom, noting the slew of prom-esque decorations lining the halls. Students have taken it upon themselves to decorate their lockers with memorabilia dedicated to their favorite literary works. I doubted the hype Emma’s prom theme idea would get, but I am pleasantly surprised at how wrong I was. A few lockers have dedications to Jane Austen and Julia Quinn, while others have bats and faeries covering every inch of their locker door. I’m not sure what those are referencing, but they’re all very warm and cozy in their ownright. The ceiling is covered in twinkly lights weaved around vine plants, with book pages hanging by thread like they’re floating.
The twinkle lights aren’t lit yet, but I can already tell it will look magical in here come Friday night.
“What do you mean you can’t get it done in two days?” Emma’s snappy words travel out of the break room and into the hall.
I approach slowly and quietly, taking in the scene. Emma paces back and forth on the phone while Ellie and Benny watch her from the table withanotherbanner attempt underway. Emma has vetoed four of Ellie’s banners already. I wish she would just let it go. Margaret sits in the recliner, knitting a rather large sweater? Or hat? Something with a collar and three legs. Malcolm leans against the refrigerator, sipping his coffee and gazing out the large window. I sidle up next to him, doing my due diligence to avoid eye contact with Emma in her current state.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, drawing Malcolm’s attention away from the window.
“Something about an ice sculpture,” he says into his mug, taking another sip.
Of course it is. Leave it to Emma to come up with these ridiculous plans days before the event. Who in their right mind can get an ice sculpture ready and delivered in less than forty-eight hours?
“I recommended a giant teddy bear instead, but she didn’t appreciate that.” Malcolm smirks, his piercing blue eyes lingering on my face. I can feel his eyes, like a gentle caress down to my pulse point, and I can feel myself longing for it.
Another reason to sludge through the online dating pool.
