Twelve Truths and a Lie (14 page)

I
sat
at my desk after school grading math worksheets, but my mind continued to drift to my weekend with Aurora. I knew what this was between us, but I couldn’t help wondering if it could develop into something more in the future, regardless of my location. Didn’t our insane chemistry account for something?

To Aurora’s point, I needed to get myself together first. Really think about moving past the residual anger I still had over my ex and my best friend. I couldn’t do that if my brain was clouded with a new relationship.

Plus, there was the job offer itself. I had given the Franklin school system a preliminary affirmative that I’d take the position, which bought me a couple more weeks to officially confirm once I filled out the paperwork they were sending me.

I tried to gauge the state of my situation with my principal at school. I was given the one-year position because the previous teacher had taken extended family medical leave for the birth of her child. He seemed to think she’d be returning next year, along with some regular education teachers who had kept in contact with her. So at this point, it looked like I’d be reassigned or out of a job again.

On top of that, my roommate, Maddie, was acting sort of strange, but I couldn’t seem to get to the root of the problem. I knew he was nearing the time of meeting his future wife and that was nerve-wracking in itself, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his moodiness was related to something else.

“Why do you seem so distracted?” I’d asked one night after work over a pizza we’d had delivered.

“I just got a lot on my mind. Work and stuff,” he replied around a small bite. He had some dietary restrictions involving beef, but normally he could out-eat me on any given night.

“If you need to talk about anything,” I said, well on my way to devouring my third slice, “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks, man, appreciate it,” he said, picking at his crust. Maybe the huge project he was lead guy on at work was messing with his stomach. “But I want to hear more about your weekend.”

“Such as?” I pushed my plate away. “I already told you about the bar and the dance.”

His eyebrows quirked. “But you didn’t tell me about Aurora.”

“What about her?” I asked, heading to the fridge to refill my glass with soda and ice.

“I think you like her,” he responded, standing to rinse his plate in the sink.

“I do,” I said, following his lead. “A lot.”

He placed the leftover slices in a Tupperware container. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. Not before I officially decide on that other job at least,” I said and began loading the dishwasher. I had told Maddie about it when I got home, and he seemed just as bowled over as Aurora, even though she tried not to show it. “Besides, we’re both in different places, taking time to ourselves to figure things out.”

He thumped me lightly on the shoulder with his fist. “I think you tortured yourself enough.”

“This from the guy who razzes me all the time about having too much sex to get over my ex?” I asked, shaking my head at his change of heart.

“We all doing things out of character,” he said, opening the fridge and sliding the plastic container inside.

“What have
you
done?” I asked as I placed the pizza box with the trash. His answer would be a clue to his current state of mind, I was sure of it.

“It’s just…” He heaved a big dramatic sigh and sat down on the expensive leather couch. All I had to offer his posh apartment on my teacher’s salary was a second-hand chair and a bedroom set. “What if I’m not attracted to my future wife or our chemistry isn’t as good as I’ve had with somebody else?”

“Yeah, I get it, man. Those would be natural fears.” Maddie had been my good friend all through college. He had a different way of looking at the world, normally in more practical terms, so this was a bit surprising coming from him. “But why do I get the impression that this is about something more?”

He rushed his fingers through his dark hair, which I just noticed was growing out messier than usual. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

I quirked my eyebrow and he remained silent, flicking his thumb in some silent rhythm against his knee, pondering my question or ignoring it, I wasn’t sure which.

That’s when I noticed a couple of other differences about my roommate. He was dressed more casual, especially after a day of work. Gone were the slacks and expensive Italian leather shoes. Instead, he was sporting casual sneakers—still in pristine condition, as was his nature—along with some dark wash designer jeans. Had I been too lost in my own head to notice these subtle changes in my friend?

“Sooooo…” I said, attempting to lead him in the conversation, but he continued being stoic. “Is this about somebody you’ve recently hooked up with, that you’ve been thinking about a lot more than you’re letting on?”

He leaned back and shut his eyes. I had hit the nail on the head.

“I don’t know how to help you without you feeling like I’m disrespecting your religion,” I said, treading lightly. “I would never contradict what you and your family believe in. The way you choose to live your life is pretty admirable. I fell away from my Baptist faith a long time ago.”

“Go on,” he said, motioning with his hand. Now that I was on the right path, he wanted to hear what I had to say.

“But it’s got to be confusing and difficult as fuck being immersed in this largely white and Christian culture, even though you were born here,” I said. “And yet you still adhere to your beliefs.”

“Sure, it can suck being the minority in a society where some people don’t remember or give a shit that there are other cultures or religions outside of their own. But I’m preaching to the choir,” he said, rubbing his eyes, which now looked tired and worn. “Even still, this might’ve bugged me no matter where I’d been raised.”

“Okay, I’m listening,” I said. We’d had the conversation about diversity, or lack thereof, dozens of times, but I understood that this was about something more.

“That’s why you’re my go-to guy.” Maddie stared hard at me. “Just talk to me like a friend who knows I have a weighty obligation over my head that I need to fulfill in order to stay in my family’s good graces.”

“All right,” I said, my heart pounding hard, because I felt for Maddie. He was a great friend, loyal and dedicated, a hard worker. It was tough to watch him struggle like this. I couldn’t help thinking that I wished I had Aurora to talk this through with. She’d know what to say in this situation. Her perspective was always a welcomed one.

“Well, fuck.” I took a deep breath. “Anything we do in life involves a risk, right?”

“Right,” he said, playing with the tab on his shoelace.

“My fear is that years down the road there’s going to be this longing inside you that you can’t quite squash,” I said and he nodded. “And the person you live with day in and out is not satisfying that need—or maybe vice versa—and so you start to resent each other.”

“The part messing with my head right now is the Western ideal of
the chase
. The choice to pursue whoever I want gets taken away from me. There’s nobody who’s going to pine over me and fall in love with me and vice versa,” he said, using air quotes, mimicking my choice of words. “I feel cheated out of that part of it.”

My stomach was in knots for him. I thought about my choice in pursuing Aurora. At this current moment, I was choosing not to. But to his point, that was solely my decision.

“But the pursuit, the
choice
,” he said, “that’s still no guarantee. It might not be enough to sustain a relationship down the line.”

“Isn’t life supposed to be about fulfilling yourself?” I asked, sitting down in the chair across from Maddie. “Being your best self and surrounding yourself with people who help you be your best self?”

“That’s why the decision is being made for me,” Maddie said. “It takes away the emotions that might cloud a person’s head and gives them the best possible match.”

“They might be the best match on paper,” I said, stretching out my legs. “But how do feelings come into play?”

“They don’t,” he said shrugging. “It’s all about adjusting to the situation and making what you have work, no matter what. And sometimes…love might figure into the equation after all. Happened for plenty of my Indian friends in their first year of marriage.”

Maddie’s cell rang and he walked to the kitchen table to retrieve it.

I sat back and thought about my own words in this discussion. What if I lost the opportunity to get to know Aurora even better? What if, after her hiatus or after I moved four hours away, she meets and falls in love with somebody else?

Well, fuck, I guess then it wasn’t meant to be.

But what did that mean?

According to Maddie’s viewpoint, it didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot.

T
he following day
at work was rough. Was it a full moon or something? Teachers swore by the phases of the moon as much as ambulance drivers did.

The kids were simply off-kilter this week and Darius, I suspected, was off his meds.

I was up at the blackboard attempting to create a graphic organizer on a story we’d read for my language arts period. Sometimes the school ran out of books for ancillary classrooms, and this was one of those times. My students usually got shafted because the new orders for the school year typically went to regular education classrooms first because they had a surplus of students.

While we waited on a new set of books, my kids got the leftovers, so a couple of their desks were pushed together in order for them to share. Which sometimes led to wrestling matches or arguments.

“Darius, this is my second warning,” I said, as his fingers folded over the Xeroxed sheet I had made the kids for this assignment, in order to create a paper airplane. We relied heavily on reproductions of pages from textbooks.

Sandy was forever at the copy machine for me before and after school. She was nothing short of a godsend and would be fantastic in her own classroom after she earned her license in another couple of years.

Darius was smirking about getting in trouble, and the other kids were watching him instead of me. He had leadership qualities for sure, but today? Negative ones.

It was an unusually warm spring day and the students had just returned from recess, which meant their brains had turned to sludge. I usually kept lighter assignments for the afternoon for just this reason, but I was attempting to finish this unit on main ideas and move on, so we could be on target with the other grades and classrooms. Normally it didn’t pan out, given our varied needs, but I gave myself a gold star for effort.

“Okay, guys, let’s take a quick break,” I said, keeping my exasperated tone to a minimum. I nodded to Sandy, who was attempting to help one of the students focus on the reading assignment at a small group near the back table. “Let’s play division basketball for a breather.”

There was the immediate response of some whoops and fist bumps and chairs sliding around. “The student who puts their books and pencils away without drawing any attention to themselves can go first.”

It got so quiet, I could hear a pin drop, as the kids self-regulated and did as I asked so they could earn a turn. The class loved this game, and I could usually get them to comply by mentioning there was a chance we might play at the beginning of the day.

Students stood at their desks and were asked to solve a math problem in their head. When they called out the right answer, they were able to take a shot with the soft basketball that matched the hoop hanging above the second blackboard on the opposite side of the room.

Each student dealt with their emotions in different ways and some could become frustrated over small things, like a missed math problem. But they knew from experience that each one of them would eventually get a turn, because we would keep trying until all of them got a shot at that basket. It was important for these kids to feel some measure of success, even if it was only answering a question at school correctly.

I pulled the Nerf ball from my desk and headed toward the middle of the room near the basket. There was an anticipatory air in the room about whom I’d call on first. I made eye contact with Sandy who, with a flick of her head, signaled whom she thought had earned the right and nine times out of ten we usually agreed.

Today, Darius had a tight set to his jaw as he fidgeted at his desk and rolled his eyes my way. Normally I could rely on him to rein the other kids in with supportive words like,
you’ll get it next time
. But I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to help him turn the tide, not when he already had trouble controlling his words and actions.

I couldn’t imagine what it was like to suffer on a daily basis with a disorder that jumbled your thoughts and loosened your limbs. The best course of action was to try to get him through the day and place a call to his mother for support.

“Jared, you can go first.” The other kids groaned but then fell right in line with the game, knowing they’d ultimately get their chance.

When I got to Darius, he threw out his answer without even thinking the math problem through. Christopher, who loved to push buttons, snickered loud enough for him to hear, and Darius shoved his chair aside and headed toward his desk.

I stepped toward the middle of the room. “Sit down, Darius.”

“Figures,” Darius said, throwing his words at me like bullets. “You’re going to dock me, but not him for laughing at me?”

“How about you let me handle this? I’m standing right here, I have eyes and ears, and I’m in charge in this classroom,” I said, in a tight voice, attempting to establish control of the situation. “Just because somebody gets on your nerves doesn’t mean you need to get in their face, not in this situation.”

“Yeah?” he said, tightening his fists, not even looking at me. “Watch me.”

I walked up behind Darius, knowing he was more than likely going to need me to put my hands on him to get him to stop. He had that unhinged look in his eyes, and if I didn’t put a halt to this situation, both kids would be suspended.

And for Darius, having another suspension would get him expelled.

My aid fished my flash cards from my hand and attempted to continue the math game, but the whole classroom was riveted. Thing was, the minute you lost control of the rules and the routine, the kids had you, would walk all over you. Not that a teacher shouldn’t show vulnerability. But this wasn’t the time for that. It would take days to rebuild that respect again.

Darius was at Christopher’s desk now, getting the upper hand by standing over him. The kid pushed back his chair and continued to taunt him.

“Christopher, use your head in this situation. He’s bigger than you, why provoke him?” I said in a calm voice, even though I was expecting the worst, full moon and all. “You pull this same crap out on the street you’d get your butt kicked. You realize that, right?”

Christopher glanced at me with a glint in his eye. He knew I had to stop Darius, which was why he was doing this. Little smart fucker.

“Darius, think about what you’re doing. Don’t take this any further. Go back to your seat or leave the room,” I said, stepping closer, into what felt more and more like a boxing ring. “One of you needs to walk away. Go. Now. Make the right choice.”

Neither would listen as they stared each other down. Then Darius advanced, his arm grasping for Christopher. I reached out and clutched onto his hoodie from behind. One hand at his shoulder, one lower, at the middle of his back. I firmly tugged him away from Christopher, the aim to get him out of the room to cool down.

My intervention pissed him off. He struggled against me and before I even knew what had happened, his fist came up and connected with the side of my head. I saw stars. He had rung my bell pretty good. I released him as some students responded in unison, “Oooooh.”

My aid took immediate action and began the restraint process, but Darius didn’t even struggle, as if all the fight had gone out of him. She had him prone on the floor, holding his arms while I assisted at his feet, my head fuzzy. Darius was breathing heavy and crying his eyes out, sniveling into his shoulder. He knew he was in serious trouble for assaulting a teacher.

I looked around the classroom to see who the calmest kid was in this situation and noticed Manuel sitting quietly at his desk, mouth agape, watching. “Manuel, code red.”

He headed to the emergency phone in the classroom that was located near the door. He picked it up and pressed the bright red button that would alert the office staff that we had a situation in our room and that both teachers were indisposed.

Problem was that in this situation, so many things could go wrong. The other students could run off unattended or as had happened in the past—begin destroying the room. It had resulted in fistfights and utter chaos. So the idea was to get the teachers up and teaching again.

My principal, a six foot four black man who was the toughest and fairest person I’d ever worked for in this district, was up in our classroom in two minutes flat. As soon as he entered, all of my students began shouting at once about the turn of events.
Darius punched Mr. Miller!

Christopher had his head down on the desk as if he could become invisible.

The principal gaped at me and mouthed, “You okay?”

I nodded, more upset emotionally than physically.

He took over as he and Sandy walked Darius out of my classroom. As he passed through the door, Darius looked back at me, eyes sorrowful, and remorse already setting in.

I looked at Christopher as I straightened my shirt and ran my finger over the small lump forming at my temple.

“You’ve lost all classroom privileges this week,” I said, as the color drained from his face. “And I’ll be letting your mom know exactly what went down.”

What a fucking miserable day.