Ann Aguirre - I Want It That Way

Finally, she glanced up. “It’s a game show format?”

“I thought I could give out small prizes for correct answers.”

Maybe I was wrong, but she didn’t seem thrilled. “These students all have focus issues, Nadia. How do you think they’ll respond to buzzers and Happy Meal toys?”

“Um. I didn’t plan to use buzzers.”

But she broke it down for me, all the hundred reasons why this would never work. In my structure, I had focused far too much on the fun aspect, not enough on the learning part. I needed a fresh, creative vehicle to deliver a reading lesson that wouldn’t also turn the room into pandemonium. Her criticism was on point, but I still felt horrible. She concluded, “We have to be especially careful in here. A number of our students on the autism spectrum have trouble with too much stimuli—lights, noises, colors. It’s our job to manage the environment.”

“I’ll do it again,” I said quietly.

“Have something else ready for Friday, okay? Remember, I’m rooting for you.”

“No problem. I’ll do better, I promise.” If I didn’t impress her and finish strong, she’d tell my new mentor for spring semester all about my failures, and when you started with certain strikes, the supervising teacher could make your life hell in so many interesting ways.

“Your idea was creative. In a traditional classroom, it would be a huge success.”

That made me feel a little better, enough that I mustered up the will to circulate and help students with their work. An hour later, I left the school, stewing on my mistake, went home for lunch then changed into my work clothes. The rest of the week flew, but I didn’t come up with anything that sounded better than what I’d originally produced.

And time was running out.

At four in the morning on Friday, I paced, trying to be quiet, conscious that I might be bothering Ty. Sure, I could structure something on a lesson plan I found online, but I wanted to be better than that. I sank onto the living room floor, surrounded by a sea of balled-up papers. Anyone could copy other people’s ideas; that seemed like the mark of a very by-the-book teacher, exactly the kind I didn’t want to be.

But staring at the crumpled pages gave me an idea. I didn’t have any on hand, and it was kind of old-school, but maybe— I got out my tablet and checked a couple of things. This is better. This can totally work. I stayed up all night printing up cards and then I stopped at a convenience store on the way to C-Cool to buy a newspaper. We’d need more for Wednesday, of course, provided Ms. Parker agreed.

She was in a good mood, smiling as she taught the lesson and then broke the kids into small groups. Her sets were never random, either; she put students together based on how well they could work together, often with complementary skills. It felt like I had an American eagle flapping around my guts while I waited for her to review my materials.

“This is a great idea,” she said finally. “I suspect most of their parents don’t even have subscriptions, so they don’t look at newspapers very often. This is an interesting twist on vocabulary sentences.”

I beamed. “So I’ll be teaching on Wednesday?”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Somehow I contained my excitement until I got out to the parking lot. Then I did a little dance beside my car. I still had some stuff to put together, but at least I had a firm direction now. The good mood carried me home, singing, so I was rocking out as I parked the Toyota. Max zoomed up as I got out, but he didn’t look happy. In fact, I’d rarely seen him so pissed off.

“Lauren trouble?” I guessed.

“I took your advice,” he said flatly. “But she shut me down.”

“Oh shit, Max, I’m sorry.” Lauren tended to play her cards close to the vest; she was quick with a joke and a hug, but digging beneath the surface took time, effort and a sharp trowel. Maybe I needed to do some gardening.

“It’s not like it came as a complete surprise, after what happened.” That had to be a cryptic reference to their shared secret. “But...it’s good to have closure, I guess. She also said there’s somebody else.”

“Huh?” Max was the last guy she’d mentioned to me, but only to say that sleeping with him had been a mistake. I hated to be the one to break it to him, but... “Sometimes we use that as an excuse when we aren’t into the guy asking us out. What exactly did she say?”

“‘Let’s not make this complicated. We both know this isn’t going anywhere.’ So I went for it, like you suggested. I said, ‘Lauren, there hasn’t been anyone else for a while because I’ve been into you for, like, six months.’ She got this sad look, shook her head and goes, ‘You only think that. You don’t really know me. Nobody does.’”

“That’s slightly alarming. I wonder what’s going on with her.”

“No idea.” He sighed, climbing off his bike. “So tell me, Conrad, how do you get over a broken heart?” His tone was facetious, but I could tell he was hurting.

I shrugged. “Nobody’s ever broken mine.”

Max wore a layered, disquieting expression. “Give him time.”

I followed his gaze toward the building, toward apartment 1B, and I couldn’t honestly say that he was wrong. But knowing it would probably end badly for Ty and me, it wasn’t enough to warn me off. I only needed to think of him for the sweeping warmth to carry me under, drowning me in dreams of him.

“You’re probably right. I should quit him, before it’s too late. But forewarning won’t make me wise.”

“It never does,” Max said softly.

As he already knew, some mistakes had to be made in glorious color, as the sweetness of irreplaceable memories lasted forever, long after the ache of loss faded.

The rest of December flew by in a rush. I nailed the teaching aspect of my lesson plan; the kids were engaged when looking for vocabulary words in the newspaper, and nobody melted down. After that, I kept my head down and crammed for finals while also getting ready for the holidays. We got a tiny tree for the apartment and decorated one night while drinking hot mulled wine—courtesy of Angus—and hung up more lights than we really needed.

With little sleep and lots of coffee, I cruised through finals and came out with sanity intact on the other side. Afterward, I did the Christmas shopping; I hesitated over buying anything for Ty, but in the end, I got him a set of quality art pencils. On the way back to the apartment, I mailed presents to my family then wrapped the gifts I bought for my roomies and tucked them beneath the tree.

It was quite a luxury not to have anything on my plate but work for a couple of weeks, almost like a vacation. On Christmas day, we cooked an actual holiday meal, though Angus used us all like sous-chefs, telling us to open this or chop that. At three in the afternoon, we sat down to ham, baked potatoes, carrot-raisin salad and fried Brussels sprouts. For dessert, Lauren and I had made sugar cookies the day before. In lieu of fancy china, we’d bought some festive holiday party plates, mostly so we didn’t have to wash them. Some people fought with their roommates or they were indifferent to them, but I loved mine. Maybe it was because we’d all been friends for a while, but they felt like family, and at this time of year, when we couldn’t go home, it made all the difference.

“So what’re we doing Friday night?” Angus asked, as we settled in the living room to watch Christmas Vacation. The best thing about that movie was how much better it always made me feel about my own holiday plans.

“It’s Ty’s weekend,” I answered, before I considered how that sounded.

As expected, Max pounced on that. “You mean we’re in a shared-custody situation? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have spent more quality time with you.”

“Shut up.” Normally, I’d make a crack about his love life sucking, and that was why he was so fascinated by mine, but that seemed insensitive.

“Are you just hanging out at his place again?” Lauren asked.

“He’s got something planned. Not sure what, but he told me to pack winter gear.”

“Well, that narrows it down,” Angus said.

I waved my hands at them, pretending to focus on the movie, like I hadn’t been obsessing over this surprise for weeks. Only two more days. I was on schedule for a full-day eight-hour shift tomorrow and Friday, so the other teachers could spend more time with their families. Fortunately, working kept me from becoming too impatient.

And then it was Friday. So many kids were out for the holidays that we combined into two classes. Regular lesson plans went out the window, and we mostly showed cartoons while they played. Only five of us were working: me, two other teachers, the assistant director and Louisa, who didn’t seem pleased about making kiddie lunches so soon after Christmas. Sam wasn’t at school, so Ty must be taking some vacation days and spending them with his family.

Can’t wait to see him.

I got home at half past six, waved to Lauren and Angus, and went immediately to my room to start packing. Lauren followed me back, perching on the edge of her bed to watch me dig for a down vest. Something in her expression nudged at my memory, and then I knew. This was how she looked when she wasn’t sure how I’d react.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.”

None of my cajoling got her to talk. Eventually, she just said, “Have fun, okay?”

Bemused, I nodded, and she went back to the living room. I had the feeling she wanted to have a heart-to-heart, but maybe now wasn’t the time. I set out my best pair of winter boots and packed a spare set, just in case. Jeans, a thick sweater, my coat, hat and scarf. Gloves...here they are. Soon, I had all of my overnight stuff in a small rolling suitcase that I rarely used.