“I'd do it again,” I say. “Anytime.”
She hugs her arms to her body, gives me her teacher smile—an adult passing time with a student. “So the girl who came with you today—is she your girlfriend?”
“Honey? No way. We've been friends since grade school. I don't have a girlfriend.”
She looks as if she doesn't believe me. “How can that be? I would have thought you had several.”
“I'm holding out for the right one to come along.”
Now she laughs. “You're a romantic boy. When I went to high school, with guys it was ‘If you're not with the girl you love, then love the girl you're with.’ ”
I don't like her calling me a boy. I don't like thinking about how many years separate us. “Well, that's not me,” I say.
Her eyes go soft. “Good for you. Hold out.”
Somebody says, “Could you close the gap there, buddy?”
I start, look around and see that I'm holding up the concession line. I push forward and Lori comes with me. “I'll be scheduling parent-teacher visits in a week. I'm looking forward to meeting your family.” She's all teacher again. “They are planning on coming, aren't they?”
“My dad will show,” I say.
“Not your mother?”
“No.” I turn, leaving her to wonder, to be curious the way I'm curious why she comes on to me one minute and retreats the next. I've never known a teacher like her. A teacher who runs hot and cold. Maybe it's just a girl thing.
Honey
I get tired of waiting for Ryan to show with my hot chocolate. He's been gone forever and the sun's disappeared behind clouds and the temperature's dropping. I pass out a few more prizes and ask some girl to take my place. “Potty break,” I tell her.
I trot to the concession tent and duck inside. Since my heart has automatic radar for him, it takes my eyes about fifteen seconds to locate him in the crowd. He's standing off to one side holding two paper cups and talking to Ms. Settles. It bothers me.
“What's eating you?”
It's Jess, who's come up beside me. “Nothing.”
“That's not what your face is saying.”
I look at Jess. “Ryan went to get us hot chocolate and got waylaid by Stiletto Settles.”
We look across the tent together.
“They're just talking,” Jess says. “Besides, she's okay. I like her.”
“Oh, so now you're her defense attorney? A few weeks ago, you were calling her names.”
“Things change. She's all right. Really.”
“Oh, please!”
“Whoa! Why are you getting so worked up?”
I ignore her, march to the back of the concession line. She follows. “I'm thirsty. And cold. He was supposed to be right back.”
Jess takes my arm. “Slow down, Honey. You're acting jealous. She's a teacher, girl, and tons older than him.”
I know she's right, but I can't get my head around it. They were standing too close. Ms. Settles had her hand on Ryan's arm. They looked connected.
Jess asks, “Did you come today to spy on him? Or because you wanted to help? You don't even have world history with Settles.”
“I—I wanted to be around Ryan,” I confess. “And to help out, too. Helping the kids have fun is good.”
“Then get your drink and let's go help. This is Lori's project, you know.”
Great. So now Stiletto Settles has morphed into Lori in Jess's mind. I know when I'm outnumbered, so I bite my tongue and order my hot chocolate.
I've been working the fish pond a while and sipping my hot chocolate when Ryan returns. “Here's your drink,” he says.
“Too late,” I say, and waggle my cup at him. “I gave up on you and bought my own.”
“Sorry,” he says. “I got sidetracked.”
“Really,” I say, staring hard at him, but he just shrugs and sets down the paper cup he's been holding.
“In case you want another one.”
I pick it up. “It's cold.”
“I said I was sorry.” He walks away to help two kids take fish off their magnets.
I remove the lid from the cold cup and pour the murky brown mixture on the ground, watching it soak into the grass without leaving a trace.
Ryan
“Seems like you're doing all right at school,” Dad says.
We're driving home from McAllister's open house and our annual appearance in my classrooms for the meeting of parents and teachers. A stupid custom, especially in high school. I mean, who cares? In elementary school, parents are bumping into each other, the rooms are so crowded. By middle school, the crowds of “caring” parents have thinned, and by high school, most kids beg their families to stay away. Only nerds, geeks and superachievers have their parents hanging around. My dad's always gone, so going to these meetings is the dues he pays for all the travel that keeps him away from home. I'd rather he skipped it.
He looks over at me. “Your history teacher— what's her name?”
“Ms. Settles.” My heart goes bump.
“She's a real looker. I'm telling you, teachers in my day were never that pretty.”
“She's all right.”
“Just all right? Then I'd like to see your idea of a pretty woman.” He gives a short laugh.
He's making me mad. I don't like him talking about Lori this way. I don't like him thinking she's pretty.
“She had some nice things to say about you,” Dad says.
“I like history more than I thought I would.”
“Right.” His voice drips with innuendo. “Anyway, I like her.”
“She's old,” I blurt out.
“Old? She's probably in her thirties. That's not old, son. Believe me.”
“You want to date her?” I snap.
“Of course not. What's gotten into you, anyway?”
“Nothing.” I slump down in the car, feeling like a pouting ten-year-old.
“Well, cut it out. I was just making conversation.”
Dad doesn't date much these days, at least not when he's home. I have no idea what he does on the road. He could have another family for all I know. When I was in elementary school, he dated a few women. When I was in middle school, he hung with a woman named Diane, but they broke up after a year because he told her he didn't want to get married and didn't want her moving in. Cold. For a while, I missed her hanging around and cooking and all, but I got over it.
“You should start the college search, you know, looking into where you'd like to go, filling out some apps.” Dad changes the subject.
“I got lots of time.”
“No you don't. Aren't SATs coming up soon?”
“Took them already.”
“Oh.”
