Page 81 of Cackle

“You’re the only cool teacher here,” she says.

I wish it were possible to catch a compliment, to hold it in the cage of your hands like a firefly and never let it go.

But . . . it isn’t. The high is transient.

After school, I stop at the Verizon store in Aster to get a new phone. The guy who sells it to me seems annoyed by my very existence, and to be honest, I find it deeply relatable.

I go to Tops Friendly Markets and get a rotisserie chicken and a liter of ginger ale. Then I stop at Simple Spirits for a bottle of bourbon.

“What’s the occasion?” Alex asks me, her eyes narrowing with their usual judgment.

“Had a hankering,” I say, surprising myself with my lack of shame.

If I want to drink straight from a bottle of bourbon on a Monday night, that’s nobody’s business but my own.

I let this attitude keep me company as I plow through a hefty fraction of the bottle while eating the rotisserie chicken with my hands, sitting on the kitchen floor.

When I’m done, I leave the carcass on the counter and go straight to bed.

—

On Friday, I run into Jill while getting coffee in the teachers’ lounge.

“Hey!” she says. “I was just thinking about you.”

I don’t say anything. I search the fridge for half-and-half.

“Are you sure you don’t want to meet Pascal? We saw him last weekend and I just really think you guys would hit it off.”

“There’s no half-and-half,” I say. I give a long, defeated sigh as I pour 2 percent milk into my tumbler.

“We could all do dinner. Or drinks?” She’s persistent. “Double date.”

Of course, I’m thinking about the picture. Of course, I’m thinking about Sam and Shannon.

I wonder how he’d feel if he saw me with someone else.

Probably indifferent.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

“Really?” she squeals.

“Yeah,” I say.

“It’s going to be so fun,” she says. “When are you free? Next weekend?”

“Whenever.”

“Yay! I’ll talk to my husband and see what we can see! I love setting people up,” she says. “I’m good at it, too.”

“High success rate?”

She nods, her ponytail bobbing.

“All right,” I say. “I have class.”

“I’ll let you know about plans!”