Page 6 of Romance Languages

“She’s recovering at her family’s cabin. I’m going to send her some baked goods and flowers from everyone to hopefully cheer her up. But since she’s going to be out, I’ve been looking for teachers to cover her classes. We’re short on subs. I see that you have fourth period open. Would you be up for teaching her health class?”

“Sure. Whatever I can do to help out.” The material wasn’t challenging, and I could read up on her lessons. Health class was about discussing physical, social, and emotional changes that came with adolescence. None of the kids took it seriously.

“Excellent! I’ll update the schedule. Thank you for pitching in.”

“Of course. What’s the grade and current lesson?”

“Eleventh graders, and they’re up to…” He referred to his print-out. It seemed he wasn’t one hundred percent onboard with the new software either. “Sexual education.”

“Sex ed?” I asked and hoped my voice didn’t crack.

“Yep. So you’ll be teaching the unit all about different kinds of sex and safe sex. It’s like that Salt-N-Pepa song. Get ready to talk about sex!”

He cracked himself up, while I could barely muster a grin. Because of all the things I could teach about, sex was nowhere on the list. Whoever came up with the expression “Those that can’t do, teach,” hadn’t taken into account my predicament.

3

SEAMUS

Ilook into the camera lens. Smile. Chest out. Give ‘em that influencer swagger.

“Okay, I’m Mr. Shablahblah and these are random things that my students love to touch.”

Cut to me strumming my fingers on the corner of my desk.

“My desk. Whenever they pass by, they have to touch the corner. For good luck, I guess?”

Cut to me running a finger over random notes scribbled on my markerboard.

“Markerboards. They literally can’t get over the fact that they can erase words with their fingers.”

Cut to me sliding my finger across a row of World Book Encyclopedias as if they’re piano keys.

“Old books. For some reason, there’s an old set of encyclopedias in my classrooms. They don’t like to open them. Just touch them. And last.”

Cut to me hopping up to touch the top of my classroom doorframe.

“The doorframe. Every guy has to jump up to touch it when they leave, and if they don’t, they will be cursed with immortal humiliation. If you like this video, make sure to like and subscribe to see other weird things my students do.”

The sound of exaggerated slow clapping snapped me back to the present. I pulled off my headphones.

“Nice! Oscars for everyone.” Greg hung in my bedroom doorway. The sleeves of his Browerton University hoodie were pushed up his arms. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I think I’m gonna just grab some snacks and continue working tonight.”

“What? You can’t do that. Your dads cooked you a delicious, nutritious dinner, and we’re all going to eat like a family.”

“Dude, you gotta stop saying stuff like that. It’s weird.” I strummed my fingers on my desk. The aroma of a warm, cooked dinner from upstairs made me reconsider. “What is it?”

“Spaghetti and turkey meatballs.”

“The ones with the breadcrumbs?”

“You know it, son.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You and Ethan are only two years older than me.” I hopped up from my desk chair and sucker swatted him in the stomach. “Race you upstairs!”

---