Page 69 of Textbook Romance

‘I just don’t think there are enough hours in the day, you know?’ he tells me.

I lean forward in my chair. ‘Well, as your maths teacher, I am saying now that you will leave here with at least something in my subject. I will be sure of that. Even if I have to come to your training and shout out equations over the sidelines.’

‘Yeah, don’t do that, Miss,’ he laughs. The lad already thinks I’m a little mad for talking to myself in cupboards. ‘So you think I can do this?’

‘I have every faith, Gabe. Keep it positive. Give Fulham a go, show them you’re an absolute baller. These sorts of opportunities don’t come up that often so sometimes you’ve got to seize them with both hands and work hard – not think you can’t do it because you’re…’

‘Scared.’

‘Exactly.’

He nods. ‘Facts… facts. Did you use the word “baller”, Miss?’

‘I did.’

He laughs.

‘Hon, have you spoken to your parents about this? What about your form tutor?’ I ask him.

He shakes his head from side to side. ‘My parents are a bit overexcited about it. I don’t like my form tutor,’ he tells me plainly. ‘But I like you.’

He realises what he’s said, and I try not to smile too much. ‘Well, that’s very kind.’

‘Just in a teacher way, yeah. Not like I like you, because that would be well weird,’ he explains, the grimace on his face confirming that statement. ‘You believe in us and stuff. I don’t have anyone like that in my life.’

And I stop for a moment feeling sad but almost slightly relieved that I can fulfil that role for him. I can’t say I have any experience of what it means to be an elite sportsperson, but I have always felt this lad wears a lot of that pressure on his young shoulders and doesn’t quite know how to carry it. Maybe it’s from being a mother or having lived in this job for the longest time but you worry about all these kids like they’re your own, all you want is to see them succeed.

‘They will meet you and love you, I’m sure of it. If you’re coming unstuck with work and it starts to get too much, you know where I am. We can always chat more.’

‘Come unstuck. That’s funny,’ he says, and I look down to see the box full of glue sticks still in my lap.

His mood seems lifted, his body lighter, and he gets up from his chair. ‘You’re a real one, Miss.’ I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing how to answer that.

‘I’ll catch you later, Gabe,’ I tell him as he leaves the room, closing the door. I stare at the cupboard, watching it opening gingerly as Jack’s head pops around to see if the coast is clear. I shake my head at him.

‘Paperclips,’ he says, holding the box over his head. ‘Found them.’

I’m not sure I can handle what this tryst entails. From stolen kisses in darkened corners to having to snap on my teacher face, all of it makes me feel giddy, in a good if unfamiliar way.

‘I’m glad, Mr Damon. Did you get everything you need in there?’ I say, trying to remain cool and professional.

He stops for a moment. ‘I did. Thank you for your assistance, Mrs Swift. You’re a real one, you know.’

He laughs. I would laugh if I had a clue what that actually meant.

Jack

She bought me a Snickers. After I kissed Zoe in that cupboard, I went to the staff room and there was a Snickers waiting for me in my work pigeonhole. I remember telling her I liked Snickers in a passing moment, our heads on the same pillow and I remembered staring at it, smiling. There was a Post It note attached saying For the Anti-Wanker x

And I thought about how Zoe went out into that classroom and told a confused, stressed young man that he was amazing, and she had complete belief in him. I thought about how she does that, she raises everyone up on some sort of pedestal and watches them, content to just prop them up. It made me think I’d never met anyone like Zoe before in my life. A person who put that sort of energy out into the world. I then thought about the kiss. I thought about hotels, and it meant I went to my Year Eight French lesson distracted and basically let half of them engage in a paper ball battle which meant no one left knowing how to conjugate irregular verbs in the present tense.

Since then, five days have passed since I kissed Zoe in that cupboard. I’d like to say it was a complete moment of spontaneity but really, I woke up that morning and I had an ache to see her before the day started. Not that sort of physical, sexual ache but just a feeling like I missed her, that seeing her face would make this Monday morning feel a thousand times better, so I stole an apple out of the staff room fridge and I went to search her out. Since then, it’s been five days of messaging and random gifts appearing in each other’s pigeonholes. It’s turned into some lovely innocent form of courting because we work in a school and we have to keep things appropriate, but it’s built an intensity there, too, a string of messaging that has become quite sexually explicit. It makes me smile to think of her blushing at the content – content that includes pictures of my ding-dong. However, sitting in that cupboard, listening in to her conversation with Gabe, one thing also worries me and that’s what she said about me – ‘he may stay, he may go’ – and I start to wonder what she means by that. Does she worry that I’m taking this to be some mindless fling to help her get over her husband? Does she anticipate me leaving? Because I guess I could. Sarah’s job offer is still on the table and the option is there in a way it hasn’t been before. Zoe also spoke of opportunities, grabbing them with both hands, and her words echo so very true. But how could I do that to Zoe now? Given everything she’s been through, I don’t want to hurt her again. Maybe I just need to let her know I’m serious. All these feelings I have about her, the esteem in which I hold her, feels serious.

I’m waiting now in a local shopping centre, a zig-zag network of escalators overhead, low-level instrumental music in the background, surrounded by the buzz of a Friday night as people finish work and begin their weekends. This may not be the ideal date but at least it’ll prove to Zoe that she’s not just a fling in my eyes.

‘Hey, stranger.’ I hear her voice behind me and grin, spinning around to greet her. She looks relaxed, happy, scrappily trying to rearrange her curls. I reach in to kiss her and whilst she doesn’t flinch, I also sense some caution. We’re kissing. In public. We’ve done this before but there are far more people in the vicinity. There may be children around that we both know. She looks me in the eye but also spies the bag hanging from my arm.

‘We’re doing gifts?’ she asks, curiously. ‘Is that a contribution to my STEM club?’

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