I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 45

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Unsurprisingly, all three of my roomies were in the living room, waiting to scrutinize me when I tapped to be let in. Max did the honors while Angus studied my hair. “So there was talking. Are you and Mr. Hot Ginger in a good place?”

“Lauren! Why’d you tell Angus to call him that? His name is Ty. And yeah, we’re fine.”

She grinned, ignoring my mock-frown. “He sure is.”

Max interjected, “I can take your car to the shop tomorrow. I’m pretty sure we can fix the window. If need be, I’ll swing by the junkyard and get a replacement.” As I considered the logistics, he suggested, “I’ll give you a ride to work on my bike and pick you up in your car on my lunch hour. You can drop me off before you head to campus.”

“Okay, deal. How much will this cost me?”

“Depends, but I’ll work on it free. So just parts.”

Relieved, I hugged him hard around the neck. Until Max came through, I had no idea how I was fixing my car, replacing my phone, buying Christmas presents for my friends and family, plus the usual expenses of rent, food and utilities. My knees actually felt a little weak.

Angus seemed to take it as a personal challenge, though, because he said, “I was thinking about buying you a new phone for Christmas, anyway.”

“That’s too much.” I shook my head. While Angus came from money, I didn’t like him buying me expensive things. His boyfriends generally felt otherwise.

“Then I’m using my upgrade and giving you the one I have now.”

“I’d let him do it for me,” Lauren said. “Provided the SIM fits.”

“It should.” Angus’s current phone was one step up from my old one. “Okay. But I forbid you to buy me anything for Christmas.” Beyond touched, I leaned down and hugged them all at once. “You guys are the best friends ever.”

“Hey,” Max said, tapping the end of my nose. “You’re always around when we need you. So it would be pretty shitty if we said ‘good luck with life’ when you need us back.”

When I went to sleep that night, I felt much better.

At Rainbow Academy the next day, Ty pounced as soon as I hopped off Max’s bike. He kissed me good morning in the parking lot. I wrapped my arms around his neck and returned it full measure. When he pulled back, he kissed my forehead and each cheek in turn, mouth deliciously hot against the chill in the air. A shiver went through me.

“Keep this up and I’ll think you missed me.”

“Don’t ever doubt it.”

The wave of euphoria in the wake of Ty’s words carried me all the way to Mrs. Trent’s classroom. Sam was ecstatic when I walked in. “Hey, bud.”

“My name is Sam! Where were you? You were gone forever.”

“Was not. It was, like, four days.”

Sam pulled on my arm. “My mom’s gone forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Dad says she’s really busy. With science.”

I had no idea what to say, but Mrs. Trent started the day’s routine, distracting Sam. Just as well. I wasn’t ready for that conversation. But Sam was clingier than usual; it seemed like he hardly climbed off my lap all day.

At noon, when Max picked me up at work, my car window was fixed. “You are so awesome. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate this. How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

No matter how I argued, Max wouldn’t even let me pay for the replacement window, and that afternoon, Angus used his upgrade, passing along his old phone. My friends are the best. After such a shitty return from Nebraska, I braced for life to explode further, but my professors didn’t bitch about the absence and let me turn in assignments a day late. The next day, my phone carrier came through with a replacement SIM, leaving me in good shape for Wednesday when I had to show Ms. Parker my lesson plan. If she approved it, I’d teach class the following week.

So understandably, I was nervous when I arrived at C-Cool. I waited for a lull, students working quietly at their desks, before offering my work. She flipped through the handouts and markers I’d created; I couldn’t tell what she thought from her expression.

Finally, she glanced up. “It’s a game show format?”

“I thought I could give out small prizes for correct answers.”

Maybe I was wrong, but she didn’t seem thrilled. “These students all have focus issues, Nadia. How do you think they’ll respond to buzzers and Happy Meal toys?”

“Um. I didn’t plan to use buzzers.”

But she broke it down for me, all the hundred reasons why this would never work. In my structure, I had focused far too much on the fun aspect, not enough on the learning part. I needed a fresh, creative vehicle to deliver a reading lesson that wouldn’t also turn the room into pandemonium. Her criticism was on point, but I still felt horrible. She concluded, “We have to be especially careful in here. A number of our students on the autism spectrum have trouble with too much stimuli—lights, noises, colors. It’s our job to manage the environment.”

“I’ll do it again,” I said quietly.

“Have something else ready for Friday, okay? Remember, I’m rooting for you.”

“No problem. I’ll do better, I promise.” If I didn’t impress her and finish strong, she’d tell my new mentor for spring semester all about my failures, and when you started with certain strikes, the supervising teacher could make your life hell in so many interesting ways.

“Your idea was creative. In a traditional classroom, it would be a huge success.”

That made me feel a little better, enough that I mustered up the will to circulate and help students with their work. An hour later, I left the school, stewing on my mistake, went home for lunch then changed into my work clothes. The rest of the week flew, but I didn’t come up with anything that sounded better than what I’d originally produced.

And time was running out.

At four in the morning on Friday, I paced, trying to be quiet, conscious that I might be bothering Ty. Sure, I could structure something on a lesson plan I found online, but I wanted to be better than that. I sank onto the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of balled-up papers. Anyone could copy other people’s ideas; that seemed like the mark of a very by-the-book teacher, exactly the kind I didn’t want to be.

But staring at the crumpled pages gave me an idea. I didn’t have any on hand, and it was kind of old-school, but maybe— I got out my tablet and checked a couple of things. This is better. This can totally work. I stayed up all night printing up cards and then I stopped at a convenience store on the way to C-Cool to buy a newspaper. We’d need more for Wednesday, of course, provided Ms. Parker agreed.

She was in a good mood, smiling as she taught the lesson and then broke the kids into small groups. Her sets were never random, either; she put students together based on how well they could work together, often with complementary skills. It felt like I had an American eagle flapping around my guts while I waited for her to review my materials.

“This is a great idea,” she said finally. “I suspect most of their parents don’t even have subscriptions, so they don’t look at newspapers very often. This is an interesting twist on vocabulary sentences.”

I beamed. “So I’ll be teaching on Wednesday?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Somehow I contained my excitement until I got out to the parking lot. Then I did a little dance beside my car. I still had some stuff to put together, but at least I had a firm direction now. The good mood carried me home, singing, so I was rocking out as I parked the Toyota. Max zoomed up as I got out, but he didn’t look happy. In fact, I’d rarely seen him so pissed off.

“Lauren trouble?” I guessed.

“I took your advice,” he said flatly. “But she shut me down.”

“Oh shit, Max, I’m sorry.” Lauren tended to play her cards close to the vest; she was quick with a joke and a hug, but digging beneath the surface took time, effort and a sharp trowel. Maybe I needed to do some gardening.

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