Page 1 of Teacher of the Year

Chapter1

Dear Families,

Happy New Year! I hope everyone had a restful break filled with cozy family time, hot cocoa, playing in the snow, and lots of good books! Your child is undoubtedly as excited to return to school as I am to see them. Our first day or two will be spent reviewing routines and procedures and thinking about our New Year’s resolutions for school. We also have a new student joining our kindergarten community, and I know everyone will welcome her with open arms. As always, I’m grateful for the opportunity to teach your children.

Warmly,

Marvin Block

* * *

“Nice of you to show up,” Jill quips.

“My damn gas light came on. Again. Hence my post-crack-of-dawn arrival.”

“Marvin Block, you had the entire break to get gas. Why do you always risk one more drive when there’s a serious chance of being stranded?”

“I honestly forget. And panic. Plus, I like to think of each trip with barely any gas as a Chanukah miracle. Not enough oil but look, made it anyway!”

Jill delights in teasing me. She may be the embodiment of petite, but Jill Kim commands a room like a boss. Technically, she stands at four eleven and a half, but I round up the extra half-inch when describing her because we all deserve a friend who embellishes. Jill and I joke that we both have two minority tallies (her: Korean and tiny, me: Jewish and gay). We’ve bonded over being outsiders, particularly at our school, where the staff resembles a nineteen-fifties housewife’s Tupperware party (white, straight, Christian, relatively tall, and female). We were drawn to each other from the moment we met at my interview nine years ago, when we locked eyes across the conference room table, she winked at me, and I knew our friendship was destined. She’s like the bratty older sister I never had, and I adore her to bits.

“Well, Baruch ata Adonai, I’m blessed you’re here,” she delivers in surprisingly accurate Hebrew.

“Yeah, I figured I better come in and do your job for you.”

She turns toward me and swishes her shoulder-length jet-black hair.

“Be my guest. I’ll gladly send my entire class over to you and go shopping.”

Our banter is routine, playful, and expected. As Jill whips around preparing her classroom for the day, her ankle-length flannel dress appears caught in a flurry.

“I mean, youarea contender for Teacher of the Year.”

Jill loves to mock me about the nomination. Heck, she likes to tease me, period.

“Listen, if it wasn’t the first day after vacation and I didn’t have a new student starting, sure, I’d gladly take them all,” I say.

This reminder shifts her demeanor, and her eyebrows gather.

“Right. What do we know about them?”

“Not much, just her name. A single dad, I think. I’m not actually sure. The mother’s phone number is out of state, and ‘lives with dad’ is scribbled on my paperwork, so who knows?”

“Oh, a single dad. Maybe he’s cute.”

Jill loves to bait me. She’s trying to spruce up my desolate dating life, and thinks that any single man with a pulse could be my Mr. Right.

“Ah yes, just what I’m looking for, a straight father whose child is in my class. Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

As she scribbles her morning message, the marker squeaks against the whiteboard. She sets it down and wraps her fingers around her hip.

“You do know to have a relationship, you actually have to put yourself out there, right? And why do you assume everyone is straight? That’s heterophobic.”

“Heterophobic? You made that up.”

“No. Google it. In any event, staying home watching movies with your cat isn’t the way to find a guy. You’re a catch. Adam was an asshole. Not all men are. Someone would be incredibly lucky to be your boyfriend.”

My relationship with Adam crumbled because I made the colossal mistake of thinking I could count on someone. Jill was my central pillar of support. She sat with me in silence and brought me strawberry ice cream and Junior Mints, my depression noshes of choice. The breakup with Adam crushed me. Walking in on him boning a stranger in the laundry room probably had something to do with the melancholy. Loving someone isn’t supposed to lead to immense hurt. The three years since the breakup have been a gradual reemergence from darkness, and I couldn’t have done it without Jill. Her friendship means the world to me, but her eagerness for me to date has caused her to be quite the yenta. Right now, dating doesn’t interest me. I’m fine by myself. Me and Gonzo. Our own boys’ club. A sweet furball laying on my chest, staring up at me, and voraciously purring, who needs more than a snuggly cat? Jill knows me well, knows I’m not ready, but still wants me to have someone to lean on the way she has Nick.

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