Page 24 of Between the Lines

I shrug. I’m typically the picture of collect, but apparently in the face of compassion, my insecurities are willing to claw themselves outward.

“I can’t even imagine,” Sam says, leaning forward to clasp his hands between his spread knees. “I got into this job for the kids, you know? More power to you, my man. I have a love/hate relationship with sending them down here for discipline.”

Sam rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, as if he’s apologizing for asking me to handle discipline when it’s my job.

“I…”

I am not the speechless type. Ichooseto be quiet. I dole out my words carefully and with intention. And yet, I can’t seem to let them out, because suddenly, the words that want to escape are confessions. It’s as if ten minutes of staring at bills and one show of empathy is cracking my heart at the foundation, as if my walls of trauma suddenly want someone to dump it all on.

“You taught history before, right?” Aaron asks. “What was your focus?”

“I taught early American history, but my favorite was a specialty class that I taught about Greek and Roman mythology.”

The edges of my bruised and unused heart start to lighten.

“Oh, sweet! Like Percy Jackson?”

I huff a short laugh.

“Wedidspend a week analyzing that text and its inaccuracies.”

“I’ll bet Juliet’s students would eat that up. You ever think about starting a club?” Sam smiles.

“Maybe someday,” I say, still not sure where this conversationspurred from, or which direction I evenwantit to go. It’s on the tip of my tongue to confess just how much I miss simply being ateacherwhen twin buzzes sound on their watches. When they both look down and smile, it reminds me of that sense ofdoes not belong. That I am other.

“Well, the ladies call,” Aaron says. “We have a biweekly meet-up for drinks and apps.”

He stands and claps Sam on the shoulder as he does.

“But hey, you’re more than welcome to join us. We’re heading to Twisted Pineapple tonight, but we really don’t have a rhyme or reason—it all kind of depends on when everyone’s schedules line up,” Sam says.

“Don’t lose yourself in this office,” Aaron adds.

I nod. “I’ll let you know.”

The two move to leave, and as my heart debates between settling to calm, and beating rapidly at the newness, it decides on the latter. Because Aaron flicks his watch face up, and says,Oh, sweet! Claire can make it tonight too, and my heart doesn’t give me a choice otherwise.

twelve

claire

Matthew’s soccerpractice was cancelled because of the rain.

It’s the only reason I was allowed out tonight, and even then, my mother was hesitant. But somehow, I stole myself some free time like a thief in the night.

I’m really only stealing two hours tops at the sports bar I used to work at, because I have to be home for bed time. But I get to be social. Juliet is joining us too, and for once in my life, I get to pretend I’m a regular adult human being who has control of her social life.

“How are my babies treating you?” Juliet asks once we’re all settled.

“They’re great! We’ll have to get together before you come back to go over a few behaviors, but I really do love your class. They’ve stayed on top of all of the lessons so far, too.”

“You’re a godsend,” she says, clasping her hands over her heart.

I’m not used to praise. My work at home is expected, and really, the only feedback I receive from my parents is being reprimanded if something goes wrong. God forbid my mother have to step away from her social circle for five minutes to actually be a parent.

Juliet turns toward Sam to hear something he’s trying to say, andI sigh over the top of my iced tea, waffling between being grateful for the extra time, and spending all of those sacred minutes watching them countdown.

“Okay. Claire. Two-o’clock. He has a full head of hair and a pair of sad eyes that simplyscreamhe would be a fantastic pleasurer. He’d probably worship you for hours before he even let you touch him.”

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