Page 17 of Just Joshing
I led. The wind picked up, battering us as we walked the short way to the entrance. "Do you know the center?"
"Only through what Sam tells me. So, nothing."
I grinned, picking up my pace. "The kids here are wonderful. The staff too. The center caters to a variety of needs but mostly low-socio economic families who just need some help. They run programs for the little kids, afterschool care, single parents – particularly teens – and a bunch of other supports. It's become a hub for the neighborhood." I pushed open the heavy door, leading him inside.
Immediately, staff called out greetings while kids swarmed in the reception area.
"Jesucristo," I heard Josh mutter behind me as we wadded into the chaos.
"Just stick close," I called over my shoulder, dodging a ball. "I'll keep you safe."
We headed down one of the hallways. "Left side of the building are the playgrounds, gymnasium and pool. On the right are the daycares and classrooms." We stopped at a non-descript door labelled 302. The painted numbers were peeling.
"This is my class." I pushed open the door, calling, "Hello class! Sorry I'm late."
Twelve sets of eyes landed on me before immediately skirting to Josh. I watched as they all immediately narrowed in interest.
I heard Josh's footsteps stutter to a halt as the door smack shut behind us, sealing him in.
"Don't worry," I said, dropping my bag on the teacher's desk. "They'll be gentle."
The teenagers were all single parents. While their children played in the creche or slept in the nursery, they attended classes, teaching them marketable skills like finance, accounting, programing and so forth. The classes were credited towards their GED.
"Who's this?" Amelia, my most outspoken student, jerked a thumb at Josh. She had her long electric-blue and black hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She wore a cropped hoodie, her midriff bare while her lower half was covered in ripped jeans and white sneakers. Her familiar make-up barely covered the blackeye – a present from her boyfriend, no doubt. Despite my best efforts, she wasn't ready to talk about leaving.
"This, Amelia, is our special guest for today." My mind scrambled to come up with a different lesson plan. "Josh Greenfeld is a-"
"Holy shit!" Jessika dropped her phone, all heads twisted to stare at the normally quiet teen. "You’re the guy. You wrote that movie!"
Heads swiveled back in unison to stare at Josh. He tucked his hands into his pockets, a small smile pulling at his mouth. "Which one?"
"This guy's from Hollywood?" Amelia perked up, her eyes narrowing in interest on Josh. "He don't look famous."
"Bitch," Jessika barked back. "He wrote They called him Dog."
Chatter broke out. Some of the teens rose, half-standing, craning to see him better. Josh glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. I crossed my arms, leaning against my table. "I force all my classes to watch it."
A grin slowly crept across his face sending his eyes dancing. "Supporting your brother?"
I winked, answering his grin with my own. I turned back to the tittering class. "Ladies, gents. Settle. Josh will answer all questions. Who's first?"
Hands shot up.
I nodded at Trent. A young scrawny kid, he'd somehow managed to find a girlfriend, knock her up and then get lumped with the baby when she split just two weeks after giving birth. Just quietly, he was one of my favorite students – a hard worker, he desperately wanted to give his son a better future.
He dropped his hand, leaning forward eagerly. "Do you take on interns?"
My heart clenched.
"Sure. You got your diploma?" Josh moved to the desk, coming to lean beside me, his thigh pressed to mine, his hands dropping to the table behind us. His pinkie brushed mine on the desk.
Trent's face dropped, red flushing his cheeks as he looked away. "No, sir."
"You close?"
Trent nodded, face rising, expression stubborn. "Three classes left."
"Good. Get Ms. Archer to call me when you graduate."
