Only a few months into the school year and I knew why.
Being the new girl at the time, I’d kept my mouth shut, although I’d been horrified they’d talked about their students that way. How in God’s name could they be so horrible?
The kids were exactly as described.
If only my life held a little excitement, something to look forward to. I’d debated planning a vacation on my own, but what fun was it exploring new locations all by yourself?
One time I’d tried going out to dinner by myself. One time. The poor waitress had openly avoided me given I was in tears within fifteen minutes. No, it wasn’t because I was all that fragile. I’d just come from an anxiety ridden doctor’s appointment, but the stigma of eating alone had remained.
I knew what my new Tampa friend would tell me to do.
Have a one-night stand. Hunger and hunt. Those were her two favorite words, even if Tawny had a boyfriend. Somehow, I didn’t think their relationship would last. I also wasn’t that kind of naughty girl, but after growing up in a conservative world where even dating was frowned upon, I was ready to break out of the mold.
A hand raised in the back of the classroom drew me out of my moment of misery. “Yes?”
“Ms. Carrington. What if we don’t finish?” Anthony asked the question using what he thought was a powerful voice. He did so out of a need to intimidate me, hoping to keep his reputation as the campus bad boy intact. While he stood over me by a few inches, very little intimidated me any longer. I’d been through way too much in my life.
“Then I fail you for the year.” That wasn’t true, but they didn’t know that. At least at this moment.
At least a few heads popped up, at least six pencils circling answers furiously. Maybe I was in a much more sarcastic mood than I’d originally thought.
Perhaps that was due to the fact that a fellow teacher continued to ask me out on a date. Even though I’d told him no twelve times now, he refused to take no for an answer. I could see I’d need to use other tactics to drive the arrogant prick from my life.
“Hockey players don’t need to read.”
The entire room laughed at Anthony’s insistence. He did love to be the center of attention.
“Well, Anthony, maybe you’re right. Hockey players are dumber than boxes of rocks, but at the end of the day, they still need to be able to read their contracts and the plays demanded by the coaches. If you want to be considered for some team, you’ll need to graduate from college. Which means you need to know how to read.”
I had no idea what I was talking about as I couldn’t stand hockey players and hadn’t watched more than five minutes of a game in my entire life. But at least Anthony had paid attention to what I’d just said. I’d call that a successful day.
Five minutes on the clock.
Between the dirty looks I continued to receive, the tennis shoes tapping purposely on the scuffed tile floor, and the constant giggles coming from the group of girls in the back, I was on hour fifty-seven of my mind formulating various escape routes, not just away from the school but out of the city.
Maybe the state.
Oh, what the hell, why not the country?
I could use a vacation right about now.
With another stern but controlled glare across the room full of students, I returned my attention to my laptop, hoping to finish grading the last paper before the bell rang.
Given the older building, an old-fashioned wall clock remained hanging in homage to the ongoing renovations occurringthroughout campus. With the steel hands bent after so many years of abuse, the constant ticking only added to my annoyance.
I’d just entered the grade on the system when the bell rang. After a few additional groans, the students started to gather their things.
“Bring your quizzes up to my desk. I emailed your homework assignments for tonight.”
Another groan. My mother had always told me what happened when hands were idle. I’d certainly seen that in action with this group.
Since this was the last class of the day, the kids took a few seconds before making their way to the front.
When every paper was placed on my desk and the kids were walking toward the door, I closed my eyes. Only when I heard the door close and their voices fade did I drop my head into my hands. I’d wanted to be a teacher since I could remember. Well, that was after the phase of eating, sleeping, and drinking ice skating. In my heart, I’d known I’d head to the Olympics one day.
Then the bottom had been dropped out of my perfect little world and reality had settled in. Dreams really didn’t come true.
A slight sound brought me from my painful memories and very slowly I lifted my head.
