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“Everything will go all right,” I hear a deep voice behind me, and I startle before my mind registers it’s Tyler’s voice.
Turning around, I find him standing there with a smirk at the fright he just caused me, a gaggle of five-year olds hanging around his legs.
“I know. I’m actually very excited,” I tell him, turning my nose into the air.
“Good. You should be. The kids are excited as well,” he tells me, and he has this gleam in his eyes as he looks at me that makes me feel all types of ways.
When I get to the front, I lead my group ahead of the line, handing the guard the tickets while the kids make their way through the turnstiles. Once everyone is inside, I make an announcement.
“Okay, everyone, let's meet back here at noon for lunch!” I call out, watching as the kids can barely contain their excitement at the vast expanse of the museum.
The second I turn my back on them, my group in tow, tiny feet scatter, and there are yells of glee as the kids go off with their chaperones to explore the museum.
Tyler leads his group along with mine. Luckily, our groups enjoy hanging around each other, so we get to be together a while longer.
And I’m not complaining.
We go into the Arctic Adventure section, and I make sure to keep my eyes on my kids as they disperse to look at different parts of the exhibit. They already know not to go far, so I’m not too worried that someone will wander off.
“What are you looking at here?” I ask a few of my students as I watch them place their hands on the wall.
“It’s cold,” Aaron calls out, and I furrow my brows as I press my hand to the wall as well.
And they’re right; it is cold. The sound of cracking ice and blowing winds also invades my senses, and I find it amazing how they’re able to simulate the Arctic experience.
When we move onto the dinosaur exhibit, the children do their best impressions of a T-Rex as they stand in front of the large model of one. I can’t help but watch and laugh at them, finding it more entertaining than the exhibit itself.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’ve never been here?” Tyler asks, his body suspiciously close to mine as we stand by the wall.
“Really? Not even on a school trip?” I ask, figuring everyone even remotely close to the area goes here on school field trips.
He shrugs at me. “Guess they weren’t doing it when I was in school.”
“Oh, I forgot,” I begin, lowering my voice for the next part, “you’re a littleolder.”
I can tell he’s about to retort, but a pack of my students coming up to me, hands trying to cover their giggling faces, has me turning my attention to them.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, bending down some, so I’m at more of an eye level with the kids.
Dante is pushed forward by his peers, trying and failing to hold in his laughter.
He seems as if he’s struggling to find his words before he finally blurts out, “Do you two like each other?”
My face involuntarily turns crimson at the question. Is it that obvious? If my students can see it, can everyone else? I splutter, trying to find a way to answer this question before Tyler finally beats me to it.
“I like everybody here,” Tyler answers easily, but I’m sure on the inside he’s laughing maniacally.
I just know he loves seeing me flustered.
“But do youlike-likeeach other?” Charlotte pipes up from behind Dante, and my face gets even more red if that’s possible.
“Why would you ask that?” he responds, and again, I think about how he would have made a great teacher.
The kids stand still for a moment, pondering the question. But then, they all give matching shrugs, their attention quickly turned away by some fossils.
However, the sound of their giggles as they walk away tells me this is not the end of it.
“They have great intuition,” Tyler muses.
