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Elouise
When the finalbell of the day rings, I sag in relief.
To say today was taxing, would be a gross understatement. The combination of my crappy mood, my lack of sleep, and the kids’ overall inattention after a week off from classes was just about as much as I could handle.
But we’re not done yet.
“Alright, kiddos, grab your projects and line up at the door.”
Picking up an array of science projects, the kids do as asked. When everyone is ready, I lead them down the hallway towards the cafeteria – which doubles as our gym.
Thankfully, there’s already a handful of parent volunteers and other teachers standing by to help the kids get set up at the right tables.
I don’t know whose bright idea it was to have a Science Fair the first day back after spring break, but surprisingly all of my students had something prepared. Some obviously better than others, but hey, I’m not judging.
With the kids in good hands, I head back towards my classroom.
Thirty minutes.
I have thirty minutes to sit and find my chill before the fair starts.
Entering my now quiet room, I close the door behind me and walk the few paces to my desk. It’s not an overly comfortable chair, but I still drop into it as though it’s an ergonomic throne.
I should really use this time to get ahead on tomorrow’s lesson. Maybe write a few things on the board. But I won’t. I just want some peace and stillness before I have to wander through the cafeteria, listening to overelaborate explanations of potato batteries.
Crossing my arms on top of my desk, I lower my cheek against my wrist and close my eyes.
Breathing in, I will my mind to clear. But instead of blackness, chocolate hair and golden eyes greet me.
I squeeze my eyes tighter.
Go away!
Meditation Beckett floats closer.
Stop it, you asshole!
Inhaling, I focus back on the darkness. Forcing his handsome face out of my mind.
Just as his visage starts to fade, the sound of my classroom door clicking open breaks the last of my focus.
Popping my eyes open, I lift my head and find Mr. Olson stepping into my room.
I resist the urge to clench my teeth at this uninvited interruption and sit up.
“Hi, Mr. Olson,” I try for a smile.
He uses one hand to push the door shut behind him, the other holding a bottle of water.
His smile is genuine, “You really don’t have to call me that when students aren’t around. Richard is fine.”
This is not the first time he’s brought this up, and I wish he’d take the hint and leave it alone. He’s never been anything but friendly towards me, but I just don’t feel comfortable having that level of familiarity between us.
I let my smile relax into something more real. “Sure.” I don’t mean it. “So…” he’s the one that just walked into my room, but the silence is awkward, and I feel the need to fill it. “How was your first day back?”
His reply is just as stiff as I expected. He’s happy to be back… Blah blah, so on and so forth.
I mean, I love my students too, but the poor guy must have zero social life if he’s this eager to get back to work.
I nod along, but want to hiss when he asks me about my day.
Talking with Mr. Olson is not how I want to spend – I glance at the clock – my eighteen minutes of freedom, but I know that’s not gonna happen. So, I sigh and tell him about all the spilled glitter that happened during our Art Hour.
