Page 40 of Teacher of the Year

I laugh because he’s so ridiculously literal and hilarious and then say, “No, silly. A man.”

“Nope. I’ve never kissed anyone except Isabella.”

“Oh.”

“Growing up a boy who was more into math and science than sports was tough in my family. I think questioning my sexuality felt like it would tip the scale. Pushing the idea out of my brain just sort of happened. When Isabella and I met, I suppose it was easier. And I did love her.”

My ears are listening to him, but my head’s ability to keep up is struggling. I heard he shouldn’t be dating. He might be bi, but he’s not sure. But there’s a confidence in the way he kisses me. Olan Stone may be confused, but there’s no doubt in my mind, he’s a good man. No, awonderfulman. Catching feelings for a parent is brainless, and the Teacher of the Year contest should be my focus. Dr. Knorse is counting on me. Damn, the entire Pelletier Elementary community is counting on me. And handing my heart over never works out. Stopping this nonsense would be the right course of action. Yes. No more kissing Olan Stone. Put those lips out of my mind.

“Listen, I like you. Maybe we can slow it down a little and hang out,” he says.

“I can hang out. I like hanging out. I’m an expert hanger outer.”

“See, you have to stop being so adorable,” he leans forward and kisses me, gently this time, short, like dotting an i or crossing a t.

“Let’s head back. I’ll send you a text to make some plans to…”

“Hang out,” I finish for him.

He takes my hand, stuffed into a mitten like a packed dumpling, and squeezes it. And even though it feels like the brakes have been slammed on our train, it’s still chugging along, and considering I expected the worst, I’m not entirely disappointed. Being friends with Olan makes perfect sense. No more kissing. I can do this.

Chapter15

Olan: Thanks for the chat. I feel much better.

Marvin: Me too.

Olan: How about Friday?

Marvin: To hang out?

Olan: Yes.

Marvin: Sounds awesome.

With our heart-to-heart chat on Monday behind us, my expectations plummet to a fairly low level. Think when any former member of Destiny’s Child (besides Beyoncé) releases music. The problem lies in that I don’t typically neck with friends. I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. Truthfully, I’ve never kissed anyone that way.

Part of me wonders if simply being out of practice, with the kissing stuff, made it all supercharged with Olan. There’s no denying the heat between us was palpable, but with so many reasons not to get involved, maybe being stuck in the friend zone wouldn’t be so terrible.

“Having a friend that hot isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Jill says, always knowing how to comfort me. We sit collating and stapling papers for a project.

“Thank you for that.”

“Hear me out. Hot people attract other hot people. It’s simple physics.”

“What the hell do you know about physics?”

“I read a book about this. Seriously. If you hang out with him, even as a friend, he’ll attract other hot people and increase your chances of meeting a hot person who wants to date you. It’s one of the laws of attraction. Like attracts like. Hot attracts hot.”

Her logic, while ridiculous, comes from a place of caring, and I’m unable to be upset with her.

“Well, bring on the hot people!” I shout.

To be clear, Olan’s irrefutable hotness might be part of what drew me to him, but it’s his awkward nerdiness, his tenderness with Illona, the uncomplicated way we communicate – those are what truly thrill me. I need to work on dampening that flame, not fanning it.

As is often the case, the week keeps me focused and busy, while the remoteness of Friday annoys me. I throw myself into teaching and being present for the children. Their sweet faces and random antics distract and entertain me. On Wednesday, at snack time, Zoe puts a raspberry on the tip of each of her fingers and tries to open her milk with “raspberry fingers.” The ensuing mess is worth the hilarity of the entire class cheering her on. These small moments balance the stress of school. Sure, the teaching part matters, but the silliness, the affection, and the time together matter a whole lot more.

Friday finally arrives and I’m more than ready for some rest. One positive about Olan and me being planted firmly in the friend zone, there’s less pressure surrounding our hanging out, and I’m actually pleased about that. The sight of Olan at pickup still causes a flip in my stomach, but it feels smaller, more manageable.

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