“Yes, you did. But when I first started dating Jackie, you covered my entire bedroom in sticky notes that said EM LOVES JACKIE 4EVER so I’m not really motivated to let it go, as it were.”
“In my defense, you do love Jackie forever. And I waited until you actually started dating before I sticky-noted your room.”
“So when you and Sam start dating I can get a tattoo that says LOTTIE LOVES SAM 4EVER?”
“Maybe think of something a little less permanent.”
“Good point. Well, have fun! Text me later.”
With a wave and a promise to text her that night, I got into my car and left Em standing in the parking lot, her defaced history textbook in her hands.
I had sat in on a couple of my aunt’s classes over the years, but I didn’t remember much. She taught about writing for children and the history of children’s literature, things I knew a little about but nowhere near as much as she did. I’d brought her computer with me in case there was anything on there that would help me.
I was wholly unprepared.
In her note Aunt Helen had made it seem like I was the obvious choice for a substitute, like she wasn’t worried at all about my ability to actually carry this out. I wasn’t so sure. Even Abe might have been a better choice—he didn’t want to be a teacher, but he had read every single important children’s book in the history of the English language, plus most of the unimportant ones, plus he had an eidetic memory for words. He would probably grow up to be the next J. R. R. Tolkien.
Or the next Helen Reaves, I guess.
I got to the library a few minutes later and opened my aunt’s laptop on the grass outside. Although I’d already done this days ago, I spent a few minutes browsing through her Word documents and found a folder labeled Lesson Plans, but of course the last one was for weeks ago, before she died. The students would have had three or four classeswithout her now, being taught by whatever substitute had been assigned to them. And now me. I really didn’t want to let them down.
I felt a hand brush against my hair, and then Sam was sitting down across from me, smiling and happy in sunglasses and a blue T-shirt.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
“First of all, you look like you’re about to throw up. Are you about to throw up?”
“I don’t think so. But I’m not a hundred percent sure.”
“Okay, I’ll keep my distance. What are you working on? Any ideas?”
“Literally zero ideas. I have no ideas at all. At this point, I think I’m just going to read the first chapter ofMargo Hatter Lives Foreverand be done with it.”
“Great! I have an idea. Let’s go.” He shot up and grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet. I put the laptop in my bag as he led me away from the library.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere very cool,” he said.
“That’s all I get?”
“That’s all you get.”
It wasn’t long before we arrived at the outdoor amphitheater. I’d been here before, with Abe and my parents, watching the drama department’s summer Shakespeare series.
“Are we seeing a play? We’re supposed to be working on a lesson plan,” I said as we approached the ticket booth.
“You have three hours until class. If you haven’t planned something yet, you’re not going to. You’re just going to have to wing it, Lottie,” he said. He bought two tickets and grabbed us each a program. He handed me one.
“The Little Prince,”I read.
“A stage adaptation by Reaves Players,” he said.
“Reaves?”
“Your aunt was their number one supporter. She made this possible. They used to be called the Seaside Players, but they changed their name when...”
