Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
That message greeted me bright and early on Tuesday morning.
Mack: I know you’re reading all these texts. And I’m just wondering when my beautiful, amazing, sexy coworker is finally going to respond…
And that one came in last night. Obviously, I did not respond.
Although, I haven’t completely ignored him. At school, I’ve been nice and friendly, but I’ve also had to flash more than a few pointed glares in his direction whenever his smiles have gotten a little too inappropriate or his hands have managed to discreetly brush against my arms or hip or back whenever we’re in the same room together.
The man is persistent with a capital P.
But this sudden shift in tactics is quite amusing. He’s seemingly dropped the flirtatious route and is trying to keep things all business by acting interested in doing planning for the Career Day Principal Dana assigned us to organize together.
I’m not sure I’m buying it. My gut tells me this is his way of trying to coax me into more fun with him.
The kind of fun that you’re still fantasizing about…
No matter how tempting Mack Houston might be, I know I have to stay strong in my decision to keep whatever happened during spring break in the past.
Sure, our impromptu vacation definitely changed my view of him, but Mack isn’t the kind of guy you date or get into a relationship with. He’s the guy who has half the females in the city on speed-dial in his phone.
Still, given the nature of this message, and my ever-consistent call to professionalism, leaving him hanging on Career-Day-related planning isn’t going to help either of us.
I glance at the clock and see that Sammy Baker is running a few minutes behind, and while I wait, I decide to finally give him one text message response.
Me: I can’t do dinner. How about a thirty-minute meeting in my classroom after school today?
Frankly, I’ve already started the Career Day planning myself. The flyers I printed up this morning—that are currently sitting on my desk—are proof of that. But I won’t snub Mack out of his role entirely. At least, not unless it’s wholly necessary.
I half expect Mack to respond right away, no doubt with something witty, but to my surprise, no message comes in.
I wonder briefly if this is some other kind of tactic—reverse psychology of some sort—but I don’t get the time to stew on it before Sammy Baker finally walks in, her eyes a little wide and her hair just slightly out of place.
“I am so sorry,” she says by way of greeting as she hurries into my classroom and plops her purse down onto one of the empty student desks. “I had a late delivery at the restaurant.”
“It’s no problem.” I stand, shake her hand, and then hold up a finger as I run to the closet in my room to grab an adult-size chair. She smiles gratefully as I carry it toward her. “I thought this might be a little more comfortable to sit in.”
“Thank you. I really hope I haven’t messed up your schedule by being ten minutes late.”
Normally, I might feel a little annoyed at her tardiness, but as I’ve gotten to know this year, Sammy is an awesome, working, single mom of two boys who’s just trying to juggle all the things.
I’m not in that place in my life right now—but I might be someday. And I hope people will have compassion for me.
“I have a free period right now, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”
“Okay, good,” she says through an audible sigh of relief. “Now, I’m guessing you didn’t want me to come in because Seth is your most well-behaved student, and you want to give him an award.”
A laugh jumps from my throat. “No, not exactly.”
Her face crumples in resignation. “What has he done this time?”
“Well, this week has been a little…hectic with Seth,” I tell her honestly. “Monday, he brought in a whoopee cushion.”
“Oh God,” Sammy says on a sigh that almost makes me laugh.
“Tuesday, he…well, he farted the National Anthem while everyone else was trying to do their subtraction worksheet. And on Wednesday, he pretty impressively told a Nate Bargatze joke about his wife being the ‘man of the house.’” I shrug. “I recognized it since I’d just watched that special. But as you might suspect, he was supposed to be doing math-related work at the board when he started his stand-up routine.”
Her sigh is so loud it could be heard In China, and her cheeks are flushed a brilliant crimson.
“Ms. Baker, I really—” I start to continue, but she cuts me off.
“Please, call me Sammy. I mean, at this rate, we should basically be the best of friends with how many parent-teacher meetings you’ve had to schedule with me this year.”
“Don’t sweat this, Sammy. The purpose of this meeting isn’t to chastise the job you’re doing or even suggest that Seth is in some way ‘bad.’ I definitely don’t think that, and I know you’re a really good mom,” I explain and mean every word. “My biggest priority is making sure he doesn’t get behind. I know he’s smart. And I know he is capable of a lot. But I’m struggling with consistently keeping him on track in the classroom. Some weeks, he does great. But other weeks, we’re really focused on being disruptive.”