Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“I’m staying,” I promised with far more enthusiasm than I’d mustered since our initial New Year’s phone conversation. Regardless of Merry, I was needed here in a very real way. And maybe I still wasn’t staying for me precisely, but I’d finally found a few non-Merry-related reasons to get excited about. Naturally, I wanted the Merry situation to work out, but for the first time, I believed I might be okay either way. Maybe Merry wasn’t yet to the point where he could take a leap of faith, but I was, and smiling at Principal Alana, my shoulders lifted, whole body lightening. “This semester is going to rock.”
She grinned back. “And roll.”
Twenty-Eight
Parents! Please forgive us if the school seems a bit under construction these days. We’ve had roof issues affecting several classrooms. Also, our lost and found in front of the office is bulging with items. Students, please do your part to keep our school beautiful and welcoming!
MERRY
As a parent and a teacher, I was the lucky recipient of Principal Alana’s emails for parents and staff alike, which meant twice as many announcements to scroll through while waiting at the dentist on a Friday afternoon instead of teaching. I’d have to return to the school for the boys, of course, but I was enjoying the brief—
Scratch that.
I was enjoying nothing these days. Sure, missing my afternoon classes for a teeth cleaning wasn’t the most exciting schedule change, but even taking the long way to the dentist and stopping at my favorite food truck for a late lunch hadn’t lifted my mood. All I’d thought about the whole time was how much Nolan would like the food truck, how there was no one to fight with over the last few pieces of pineapple or push extra meat toward.
Forcing my thoughts away from Nolan, I resumed playing with my phone. I made the mistake of clicking to social media only to be confronted by Alyssa’s heavily made-up smiling face.
Gah. The universe really did hate me. Or perhaps this was a necessary reminder of how well things had gone the last time I’d trusted someone to stay. Grandpa’s lecture had stayed with me for days, but Alyssa was proof positive that being welcoming to mainlanders didn’t always turn out for good.
Moreover, because I was a glutton for punishment, I scrolled through more of Alyssa’s content. There was Alyssa boxing up the name-brand goodies she’d sent the boys, shouting out each brand that paid her in merch and showing pics of her shopping on Rodeo Drive with her besties for other items. There was Alyssa lounging by a pool in Vegas in a metallic bikini that likely couldn’t actually get wet, looking nothing like the twenty-year-old I’d taught to surf, both because of the numerous cosmetic procedures she’d had and because she was so carefully posed, no spontaneity or easiness to any of her carefully curated content.
Not at all like Nolan. Nolan, who dove head-first into new things and simple pleasures, whether it was food truck noodles, teaching, boogie boards, or a foil tree for a kid. Of course, Alyssa was ten years removed from her time on the island. I closed my eyes, leaning back in the plastic chair in a waiting room that smelled vaguely of mint.
But in my mind, I was in New York City ten years from now. And there was Nolan discovering some hole-in-the-wall dumpling store. Nolan leading his much-older nieces on adventures and randomly breaking into song because that wasn’t an act. That was simply who Nolan was.
“Mr. Winters?” The dental assistant in her pink scrubs with a tooth print broke into my mental time-traveling exercise. “The dentist will see you now.”
I arrived back at the school with about twenty minutes until the end of the day. Enough time to knock out some paperwork or grading, so I headed into the school, but I pulled up short at the double doors leading from the main hall into the courtyard.
“I’m so mad!” Kaitlyn stood on one of the picnic tables, and I was about to intervene in whatever this tantrum was when I realized she was singing. Loud and righteous, a mini diva steeped in rock and roll and blues traditions with a gravelly voice no middle schooler should be able to belt out. And yet, there she was, angry and awesome.
“Shout! Shout!” Around Kaitlyn, the rest of the class danced in agitated clumps, equally upset and compelling.
“More rage!” And in front of them all was Nolan, directing with his eyes closed, looking for all the world like he might be having a religious experience. “That’s it. Now, try stomping hard on that last verse. From the top! Let’s get loud!”
“What on earth?” Belinda Masters came up beside me carrying a stack of math handouts as Nolan’s class started the song over. “Is this appropriate?”