Page 3 of Unsupervised
The giggles floating around the room don’t help, and I know my face must be turning red.
“A reader. Good.” He smiles and nods at me like I’m not acting like a complete idiot. “Second question. Why did you take Economics?”
It’s not what I expected, and I pause, blinking for a moment before giving him the honest answer. “My brother said I should. That everyone should.”
“Smart guy.” He nods and takes a step back where he can lean on the desk again.
I’m starting to relax a little. As long as I just look at him and pretend this is a regular conversation and that there aren’t forty other pairs of eyes on me, I might make it through without any other stupidity.
“The last question is one you get to ask. What’s something you’ve always wondered about but never asked?”
The words spill out of my mouth without any conscious effort. I’m not sure I actually spoke them until the roar of laughter rolls over me. “Do crabs think we walk sideways?”
To Mr. Aldrich’s credit, he tries not to lose it along with the rest of the class. His hand goes to his mouth, but not quite fast enough to hide the wide smile I might’ve thought was sexy if it wasn’t there because I’m an idiot. His eyes glaze over as he fights the urge to laugh, and he shakes his head as the laughter dies down.
“Ms. Bryant, that is—hands down—the best question I’ve ever been asked. I’ve never been so disappointed not to have an answer. I’ll have to get back to you.”
Finally, he moves on to the next student, and I lay my hot face in my hands.
Well, off to a great start, Kelly. What do you have planned for act two?
I do my best to pay attention through the rest of the class, but between the fading embarrassment and the little smile Mr. Aldrich gets every time he glances my direction, it isn’t easy. Fortunately, the rest of the class only consists of student introductions, an overview of what we’ll be studying this semester, and a quick review of the syllabus. He ends up dismissing a bit early, and I make a beeline for the door.
Out in the hot, early afternoon sun, I take a deep breath. I have an hour to kill before my last class, so I grab an iced coffee from the small café affiliated with the school. About half of the tables are taken by students. There are a few I recognize from class, but I’m not interested in joining them or trying to make friends today. A few minutes alone is what I need.
It feels a little awkward to sit by myself. Before I moved, I would’ve never gone out for a coffee or to eat alone. My friends would’ve seen that as pathetic, and my mother would’ve had a heart attack. A quick glance around shows me that no one is paying any attention to me. Maybe doing things on your own isn’t as outrageous as I was led to believe.
It gives me an opportunity to flip through my new school handbook. The section I’m interested in lists all the clubs and extracurricular activities available. There’s a long list since the university welcomes the community college students to join as well.
Our campus is unique since it’s a combination of the state university and the town community college. Many students—me included—take advantage of the opportunity to attend classes at the community college, then transfer to the university after the second year. It saves a lot of money.
Zara’s advice that I find something I’m good at has been ringing in my head. Maybe I’m not good at anything, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn something new. Now that I don’t have to worry about how my choices will be judged, I’m eager to try new things.
The only thing I’ve ever been told I had a talent for was playing the piano. It’s something I really enjoy, but while my mother encouraged me to learn and even bought me a beautiful piano, my father made it clear that it was a novelty. Something to entertain, but ultimately a useless talent.
Sipping my coffee, I read through the list of activities. Most of them are sports, and I’m hopeless at anything athletic other than yoga, but there are other options. Tabletop gaming, poetry writing, a school newspaper, glee club. Nothing catches my eye until I reach the bottom of the list.
Adulting Club.
Come and learn skills that aren’t generally taught in a classroom. Do you know how to change a tire or maintain a vehicle? Can you cook simple meals? Do you struggle with filling out tax forms or budgeting? Learn to be a successful, independent adult in a fun environment.
I don’t know how to do any of those things. It’s embarrassing, and I assumed I was the only one with so many gaps in what seems to be basic knowledge, but that’s clearly not the case. I think I’ve found my after school activity.
Before I can change my mind, I stop at the office and register for the club before heading to my last class of the day. General music. I’m surprised by the small class size of what I thought would be a popular elective, but I’m also glad. Everyone seems nice, and I’m comfortable in the small group.
There is a range of experience and ability among us. A few people can sing, a few play instruments and can read music, while it’s clear a couple of students have chosen it because it seemed easy and have no experience at all.
The teacher, Mrs. Lee, is kind and explains that we’ll work on our own projects and earn our grade in a variety of ways. We spend the first class just getting to know each other and fiddling around with the available instruments.
By the time I climb into my car to go home, there’s a smile on my face and I’ve mostly forgotten the fool I made of myself in economics class. I find myself looking forward to the first Adulting Club meeting. I’d like to learn new things. Legally, I’m an adult, but on a good day, I don’t think I feel any different than I did at fifteen. Is there an age where you suddenly feel like you’re grown and responsible? Currently, I feel like I’m stumbling my way through my days, trying not to screw up.
God, that’s not adulthood, is it?
* * *
“Please, Kelly, the woman who usually plays called off sick at the last minute. It would only be three songs. You’ll still have plenty of time to visit the job fair.”
Zara’s pleading look isn’t something I can say no to, no matter how much I may be tempted. I’m already nervous about job hunting today, and now I’m getting roped into helping her at a pre-school sing along group at the library. “Okay, three songs. Do you have the sheet music?”