Page 97 of Crossing the Brooklyn Briggs
I nod, glad that I picked Tuesday for my movie night with Houston. It will give me one more day to figure out how to break the news to him that Jordan and I are together.
Though he seems reluctant to leave, Jordan pauses next to Mark and sizes him up, even though they’ve met twice now. They’re similar in height, but Jordan looks so much better in every way.
“You must feel pretty good about yourself,” he says, making me tense. I do not need him to start a fight or make Mark angry. But then he adds, “Anyone who is at the same level as Brooklyn must be exceptionally smart. Good luck with the whole Teacher of the Year thing.” He winks at me, and then he disappears through the door right as my first students start to show up.
Mark looks like he can’t decide what to make of Jordan, which is pretty standard when it comes to Jordan Torres. He steps closer, lowering his voice. “Guess this means I’m not getting a second date?”
You didn’t want one anyway, I want to tell him, but with the way he’s looking at me, that might not be true. Maybe thereissome real interest there.
“Sorry,” I tell him. “Things with Jordan happened pretty quickly.”
“Clearly.”
Well, this is awkward. And he should really get back to his classroom. Who knows what the kids might be doing with that cake?
“Uh, happy birthday again,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.
That seems to confuse him. “You really didn’t put all that stuff in my classroom?”
“I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“Huh. Okay. Well, thanks.”
With his hands in his pockets, he shuffles off with a lot less swagger in his step than he usually has. Is that my fault?
“He’ll be fine,” Mateo says as he pokes his head out of my office. He must have been listening, which is slightly mortifying. “Hey, do you want me to pair up with anyone specific today?”
He sounds so eager, even though he could easily take half of the class period for his lunch like I offered. Something tells me he likes feeling useful, and an idea starts to form. TAs aren’t really a thing in public high schools, at least not when it comes to the teaching part, but I could probably make an argument for it with how well Mateo already knows the material. It would help me out, and it would give him a challenge. He likely doesn’t get many of those.
That’s for another day, though.
“Do you think you could join Pedro and Weston today?” I point to their table, grinning when Mateo heads right over and starts chatting with the two boys.
This could definitely work.
The laughter starts up in the middle of fourth period. I don’t have a class this period, so I’ve been working through the finished lab reports from today in the blessed quiet of my prep period.
When I hear a class laughing every couple of minutes from the direction of Mark’s classroom, I can’t help but investigate.
Jaydin appears at her door at the same time I do, even though she has a class this period, and together we creep toward Mark’s room. I’m afraid of what I might find, but Mark isn’t yelling or anything, and the laughter is sporadic. Hopefully it’s nothing problematic.
To my surprise, when I peek my head through the open door, Mark is at his smart board, teaching like normal, and all of the kids are paying rapt attention.
“How do we figure out the slope of a curved line?” Mark asks calmly. Several hands go up, and he points to a girl in front.
Before she speaks, she lifts a balloon to her mouth and takes a deep breath. “We need to find the limit,” she says, her voice high pitched and warped from the helium.
The class busts up, but only for a second. They quickly quiet back down, giving Mark a chance to continue his teaching. The next time he asks a question, a kid in the back gives his answer on helium as well, sparking more laughter.
“Mr. DeNiro?” a kid asks, sounding like a chipmunk. “Can you explain that last part again?”
I’ve watched Mark teach more times than I would care to admit, but I’ve never seen his students this engaged before. I’ve also never seen him smile like this, like he’s having almost as much fun as his students are as they all try to get a chance to answer a question with a helium-affected voice.
“Where did the balloons come from?” Jaydin whispers. She seems just as fascinated as I am, though she pays more attention to the kids than to Mark. “Also, don’t you sneak away after school without talking to me, girly. I saw Mr. Bronze Abs leaving your classroom today.”
Heat flushes my face, and I press my hands to my cheeks. “Apparently it’s Mark’s birthday today.”
“You’re going to give me all the juicy details about Hot Landscaper no matter how much you deflect.” Giving me a narrow-eyed stare, she scurries back to her own class, leaving me alone in the hallway.
