Page 20

Twenty

Jade

I’m sitting at my desk Monday morning, still thinking about my mom’s advice.

Is she right? That I maybe didn’t have to be gone for the last eight years? I did find a piece of myself, but I think I may have lost a big part of myself in the process.

I stare at the big brown house out the window. An elderly couple lives there, and I watch one wife help the other down the stairs as I have almost every morning before the school bell rings. She holds one of her arms, and with small steps, they reach the two chairs near their garden. They’ll sit there until the kids go to music class. She’ll refill their coffees and place a sweet kiss on the top of her wife’s head.

“Miss Jade!” Micha runs into the classroom, bending over at his waist and catching his breath. “YAY!” He does a small fist pump. “I beat Bodhi.”

Every day, they’re coming earlier and earlier, and my moment before the day starts is growing shorter.

“No!” Bodhi says a minute later, seeing Micha already putting his stuff away. “It’s Mack’s fault.” He stomps over to his cubby and, as always, meticulously puts away his backpack and coat.

“I beat you today!” Micha says to Bodhi.

“It’s because my daddy is playing in Colorado, and Mack brought me. He says this game of who is first is ridiculous.”

I can’t say I disagree with Mack. I swivel my chair away from the happy elderly couple, unsure if I’ll ever feel as peacefully happy as they seem.

“Okay, boys, let’s have a quick conversation since we have about ten minutes before anyone else gets here.” I walk over to the armchair.

“You look really pretty today,” Bodhi says.

“Thank you.”

Micha glares at Bodhi. “Kiss-up.”

“Both of you sit.” I lean forward, placing my arms on my thighs. “I know you enjoy being early, but it doesn’t matter who gets here first. Aren’t you guys bored having to sit here with me for so long before the other kids get here?”

“Not me,” Bodhi says.

“Me either,” Micha says.

I can see I’m not going to get anywhere because their competitive nature is front and center right now. They remind me of my brothers.

“Okay then, I think I’m going to start a new rule. If you come to the classroom more than five minutes early, we’ll use that time to practice our math. While you’re at lunch today, I’ll make up some worksheets, and we can get some extra work in before everyone else.”

They turn to one another then look back at me. Yep, I didn’t think either of them would be thrilled about that.

A couple more kids come join us in the classroom.

“Good morning.” I wave and look down at Bodhi and Micha. “Go ahead and get to your desks.”

They groan and stand, shuffling to their seats, unhappy with my new rule.

I return to my desk and turn on the smartboard to begin today’s lesson.

At lunch, Mrs. Hassels, whose first name is Joyce, comes into my classroom. “You should come to the teacher’s lounge during lunch,” she says, pulling out a small chair from one of the kid’s desks. “How are you doing? Need any help?”

I put down the tuna sandwich leftover from my lunch with my mom. “I use my lunch to make sure I’m doing everything according to Mrs. McConnell’s wishes. I don’t want her coming back thinking I was slacking and haven’t hit every lesson.”

She smiles. “They’re just first graders. Most important thing at this age is to make sure learning is fun. That’s the biggest key. But from the chatter I hear from the kids in the hallway, you must be doing a pretty great job.”

“Thanks.”

I’m enjoying the break from photography, but all in all, I’m not sure this teaching gig is for me. Maybe it’s too structured. How am I about to turn thirty and still haven’t figured myself out yet? Talk about feeling like a failure.

“Can I ask you a question?” Her head tilts.

I’ve heard that tone and hesitation before. A hundred bucks says it has to do with Henry.

“Sure.” I put on what I hope looks like a genuine smile.

“Someone found a picture and…” She pulls it out of her pocket and places it on my desk. “Is this you?”

I pick up the picture and lean back in my seat. It’s Henry and me when we were in the seventh grade. I’m standing on the stage behind a podium. My hands are out at my sides, and I’m talking to the room. I look so sure and confident in myself. Henry sits in the chair behind me, along with two other students. He was growing out his hair then, the blond strands covering his right eye, but he was focused on me, and he was smiling. I always loved that smile.

“It’s you, right? And Henry Hensley?” Joyce asks.

I nod, unable to take my eyes off the picture. “It was the student election, right?”

“We’re pretty sure it was. You know how rumors can fill all the nooks and crannies of a private school. Any school probably. So, someone did a little digging and found this. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No. It was just a really long time ago.” It feels like a lifetime has passed since then, and something inside me feels disappointed when I look at that younger version of myself. Because I’m not who she thought I’d be.

All my mom’s words flood through my brain, and I can see the truth of them now. God, she’s right. I lost myself because I was so afraid to lose Henry. Every time he was available, I made myself available no matter the consequences because I justified it by thinking he was so busy that I had to take what time I could with him, and I could get to what I wanted later. But later never really came. No wonder I’m still lost after all these years.

“You can have it,” she says.

I’m not sure if Joyce sees something in my expression, but I want to keep the picture as a reminder of who I was and who I need to be. My fingers run over Henry’s face, and my heart pricks. It’s time I do a little self-discovery.

Later that day, I return to my desk after walking the kids out to their parents. I sit down to go over the lesson plans for the next day, but before I can, I find a red envelope on my desk. I pick it up and open it. It’s an invitation to Bodhi’s birthday party.

The glimmer of excitement I feel should concern me I suppose. I really shouldn’t go, but how do I not?

Just when I think I’m ready to figure out who I am with or without Henry, I get dragged back into his world. He was my best friend once, and now he’s decided to invite me to his son’s birthday party. Is it a peace offering? An olive branch to find some new normal between us? That’s the problem. I have no idea, but I need to decide which way I want this to go.