Page 29 of Teacher of the Year

I turn to him and say, “Look, we’re friends, right?”

“Yes.”

He considers me a friend. That’s lovely. Mushiness expanding.

“Friends help each other out.”

“Yes, but. Well, I’ll have to do something to repay the favor.”

“Olan, that’s not how it works. Friendship isn’t transactional.”

“Well, I’ll take you out.”

Out? What kind of out?

“Sure, I love going out with friends. But we’refriends, we’re hanging out because we’refriends, not because you owe me.”

“As friends. Sure. I mean, we’ve been chatting, and I find you charming” – he blinks quickly and slowly leans in my direction – “and I was hoping, kind of…” His voice fades out.

He reaches over, across the console, his arm lurches toward me, thick and sturdy, and he places his hand on the soft spot right between my thigh and knee. My heart was already racing, but now churns up to full throttle as I feel the air leaving the cabin of this brash car. I genuinely don’t fancy a panic attack sitting in this car with Olan, so I close my eyes and take a cavernous breath into the core of my belly. The opening bars, flute, handclaps, and the glorious Four Tops voices sing “Reach Out I’ll Be There” to me, and Levi Stubbs’s voice sounds like butter if butter could sing, and I move my tongue in my mouth trying to taste the soft creaminess. Breathe. Reach out.

“Marvin, are you okay?” Olan’s fingers now squeeze my leg, and I attempt to return to reality. I’m unsure what Olan’s doing, but I’m genuinely perplexed.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I needed a moment to, um, yeah, we can hang out sometime if you want, but Olan, honestly, well, I’m a little confused.” With my chest lightly trembling, I turn to face him. “I think I’ve missed a beat. You were out with Cindy tonight. What happened? Did it not go well?”

Olan smiles, not the hesitant one I’ve become accustomed to, but the cosmic, beautifully luminous one he seems to only let out of the cage occasionally. He actually chuckles. His low, deep laugh reverberates inside the car’s cabin.

“Oh boy. You thought Cindy and I were on a date together?”

The tart lilt in his voice hints he may be mocking me.

“Well, since you asked me to babysit and literally went out together. Yeah.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Marvin. Cindy has a boyfriend. Plus, she’s like family. She’s been with us since Illona was two. She’s dating the sous chef at a new restaurant and tonight was their opening. She asked me to escort her. That’s why I asked you to watch Illona.”

“Oh.”

Never in my twenty-nine years have I been at such a loss for words. Somehow, I have become the prince of misunderstanding. My cheeks flush, and I feel drops of sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. I suddenly wish I could melt into the car seat and disappear.

“Marvin, why do you think I text you all the time?”

With all my obsessing about Olan, you’d think I’d have an answer, but I don’t.

“Because you’re new here and don’t know many folks, and maybe you’re bored?”

He gives a small rich laugh.

“Marvin, you’re adorable.”

He’s not wrong. Wait, did he just call me adorable?

“You’re not wrong, but I’m confused. You like men?” I ask because my brain can’t keep up.

“I like you.”

Hearing this from his lips makes my chest feel tight. The air feels thin and distant. All the texts, the coffee, the school bus closeness, and the glances at pickup take on new meaning. Olan begins to shift, leaning over the center console, no small feat in this luxury vehicle. As his face passes over and moves closer to mine, I smell his cherry ChapStick, see it glisten on his full lips, and do the only sensible thing for a neurotic Jew to do – fling the door open, jump out of the car, and sprint away like the biggest shlemiel in the universe.

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