New Faces

The final bell rings and everyone eagerly steps out to start their long anticipated weekend. No one even looks in my direction. Not a problem, though. They just wanna go home and take a break on their phones and game systems and crypto currencies or whatever kids these days get into. Either that or they just wanna take a good ol’ fashioned nap. Who am I to get mad at that? Still, it wouldn’t hurt if one person stopped to say something, but you can’t have everything, I guess.

As I finish up my business and prepare to pack everything up, I hear a knock on my door. Must be Claire to tell me how much I suck again. Alright, let’s have it.

“Come on in,” I announce, not even bothering to look at the door,

“Hey, what’s up, Sazh,” I hear a completely different voice say, taking me off guard.

I peek over at the door and to my surprise, it’s Snow.

“Hey there,” I greet back, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin’ much. Just checking in on the school fossil. You still kicking, old timer?”

“Ha ha. Funny. Haven’t heard that one before.”

“Yeah, I bet you haven’t. No, I just came by to see if you heard about the new recruit coming in next week.”

Really? This late into the year? There’s just 3 months left before school ends.

“New recruit?” I question, “A bit late in the game, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I know,” he concurs, “But one look at her will immediately make you yearn for summer to pass by.”

“That much of a looker, huh?”

“That doesn’t do her justice, man. She’s hot. Smoldering. One look at her will kill you.”

“Alright, alright, get a hold of yourself before you make a mess on my floor. Janitors have it bad enough already. So when exactly is this inferno lady showing up?”

“First thing Monday. And I have never wanted a Monday to appear more. If that doesn’t tell you how sexy this woman is, I don’t know what will.”

“Well, your spoilers for your wet dreams for later aren’t exactly doing that job. Not at all. I’m surprised you don’t have a picture of the poor girl already.”

“Give me a day.”

“You sure your hands will be free at that time?”

“Laugh all you want, you old fart. All I know is that the second she steps in this building, it’s only a matter of time before she’s all over me.”

“Uh huh. Like how Claire was ‘all over you’ when you shot your shot with her. How’s your elbow, by the way?”

He narrows his eyes at me before shifting his hand to his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be a nice guy,” he says, causing me to snicker,

“This is true,” I respond, “And as a man who’s assuming that role, I’m just telling you to be careful unless you want a potential repeat.”

“That was a fluke. Complete misjudgement. A slight mishandling of the situation. No different than the constant risk one takes when stepping out of their home. You either reap the benefits or crash and burn-”

“And burn you did with that one.”

He glares at me, earning another chuckle, before continuing with,

“…Buuut it’s all just a matter of learning from history or else you’re doomed to repeat it. So I just need to reevaluate my previous encounter, tinker it a bit, present it to her, and you’ll be calling her my Mrs. You’ll see.”

“Oh, I’ll be seeing something, alright,” I reply, packing my things, “Until then, just take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, ok, man. Wish me luck.”

“Yeah. Right. Good luck.”

He then steps out of the room, leaving me shaking my head. He doesn’t need luck. That boy needs a prayer. Poor girl, though. Her first impression of the faculty is gonna be a guy who doesn’t have the slightest clue of what it means to give up. And while that’s admirable for some people, something tells me she’s not really gonna be in that camp.

After collecting my things, I head out the room and head down the halls. As I’m traversing down the hall, I pass by a room where I hear Snow reciting his plans to Cid. Poor, poor woman. Thank goodness his health insurance is as good as it is. I’m then greeted with Claire stepping out of her room, looking as irritable as ever. In an attempt to change that the slightest bit, I decide to at least greet her. It can go a long way in some cases.

“Hey, there, Cl-”

“Bite me,” she interrupts.

And this case isn’t one of them, it would seem.

“Well, aren’t you even more chipper than usual?”

“Well, when I’ve got one idiot babbling on and on about harassing his future coworker, 80 idiots either staring at me and ignoring every damn word I’m speaking or staring at their phones, fucking up my overall performance, and another idiot standing in front of me, excuse me for not being so uppity.”

“Hey, watch your mouth. We don’t need that kind of language in this building.”

“Eat a dick, you wrinkled old bitch.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. Is that really the kind of energy you want our newest educator to be exposed to?”

“She can be exposed to the goddamn lunch recipes for all I care. I just wanna go home and enjoy my only means of solitude before reliving the constant 5 days of unrelenting monotony. So if you wouldn’t mind-”

I chuckle before finally showing her mercy and stepping out of her way and letting her pass. As she does, though, she bumps into my shoulder, giving me a snarky grin before storming off. Gotta love how there’s never a dull moment around here. Definitely a welcoming environment if I’ve ever seen one.

After driving home, I check on Dahj, who’s absolutely knocked out in his room, and start the egregious process of grading papers. And that’s always a treat. Leave it to high schoolers to have you rethink your choice on pursuing creative writing. To this day, these kids just find new ways to resent their previous teachers. How is it that we’re still having the “they’re”, “their”, and “there” problem? Why is writing a cohesive sentence the hardest thing in the world? Why is staying on topic the bane of everyone’s existence?

At least they’re not always so horrendous. Some of these stories are very insightful. Some are very immersive. Some, while lacking in variety when it comes to words, have very imaginative feels to them. These are the stories that make me feel young again. I remember when I could afford to be this active, this gluttonous, this liberated. Now look at me: 62 years young and I’m crackling if I even think of picking something up wrong.

Where did the years go? It seems like just yesterday I was play fighting with my boys, drinking tubs worth of drinks, playing all types of sports, taking in and conquering nature, I just really knew how to make life give me what it had to offer. I was invincible. And now I get exhausted from thinking about it. What I’d give to go back to yesteryear. Return to the man I used to be.

Too bad time doesn’t work like that, though. I’m confined to the prison that is withering. At least I can still live vicariously through these stories, though. I mean, look at this one. This guy’s fighting a gator to save his friend. Not the most realistic or optimal scenario to be in, but I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be an exciting experience. Just forcing those vice-like jaws open before they have the opportunity to slice off your arm and using that arm to choke the hell out of that gator.

Not to mention the ultimate prize for such a heroic feat being presented in front of an unexpecting girl. Again, the chances of any of this actually happening are asinine. It’s borderline impossible. But it’s still fun to think about. My very empathetic friend seeing me covered in my wounds, desperate to help me in any way she can as a way to express her gratitude. Cleaning my wounds, telling me how she was so scared and how glad she is that I’m here, washing my sweaty clothes, bathing me-…

Ok, that’s enough grading for one day. I’ve got the whole weekend for it. Damn, these kids really know how to write an engaging story. But I should probably get Dinner started for Dahj. It’s getting pretty late. I mean, it’s on- 10:30?!?!?!

What the fuck?! I’ve only gone through five stories! Jesus, I’m really losing track of my time. I gotta learn to take a few steps back from work. It’s not healthy. And poor Dahj. I mean, sure, he’s old enough to feed himself and there’s plenty in the kitchen for him to eat, but we really should spend more time with each other. A boy needs quality time with his old man. Plus, a parent’s involvement is essential to a kid. And with his mother gone, it’s my job to step it up.

But not at this hour. Both because, while I’m a language arts teacher instead of a math teacher, I know that teenage boy + internet connection + night time = not the most optimal time to bond, and I’m getting a bit hungry, myself. I’ll just heat something up and go to bed. I’ve gotta brainstorm some things I could do with Dahj to better our relationship, so my head’s gotta be crystal clear and fully operational. And being hungry and tired isn’t doing anyone any favors.

The sun eventually rises as the gorgeous lightly cloudy Saturday morning greets us all. I take care of my hygienics before looking at my phone. 10:26. Definitely later than usual, but not bad at all. And from the sounds of it, Dahj is up, too. Perfect. I head out of my room and over to his, knocking on his door.

“Just a sec,” I hear him say through the door.

Alright, no rush. I wait patiently as a few moments pass.

“Ok, come in,” he finally invites.

I accept his invitation, opening the door. But before I can even think of a way to propose the idea of hanging out with him, I see that he’s already dressed for an outing. And it’s not just any old outfit that he just threw on. It’s his favorite outfit to wear. He’s got his favorite black jeans, black, white, and red sneakers, and deep blue excalibur shirt. But not only that, I’m also getting a hint of…cologne?

“Oh,” I start, struggling to find my words, “ You got somewhere you gotta go?”

“Oh, yeah,” he replies, “I’m going out with a friend. I wanted to tell you, but I figured you were too busy with grading. Hope it’s alright.”

Well, damn.

“Oh, it’s no problem at all, son,” I say, “Go have fun. Where are y’all going? I’ll drop you off.”

“That’s ok. His dad’s driving us. We’re just going to the arcade and getting some food after. I’ll be home around 8.”

“Hm. Well, enjoy yourself. Don’t get into any fights or anything.”

“You’re really not gonna let that go, are you? We were just playing around, dad.”

“Sure, whatever you say. But seriously, be safe.”

“I will.”

I then shut the door, letting him finish getting ready. Well, shit. What now? That was my only plan for the day. I mean, I could finish grading, I guess…Buuut I don’t want to. Well, I’m an able bodied adult. Surely, I can think of something to do with my seasoned age.

I head back to my room, sitting on the foot of my bed before taking out my phone and searching up things to do. Dancing? No, the only place close is closed on Saturdays. Karaoke? Sounds fun on paper, but I’m not much of a singer. Ok, that’s just insulting. I’m not gonna lower myself to playing bingo of all things…hmm…Ah, there we go. Drinking’s always an option. And there’s a place not too far. Good. My night’s just been saved. Just gotta remember to pace myself.

Hours pass and I make it to the bar, parking in the front and taking a good look at the place. First impressions: it’s ok. Kinda dull. Just a medium sized “Lenny’s” sign and a building containing the goods. Yeah, it’s simple, but it’s still direct. You know exactly what to expect here. There’s no pussyfooting.

I can see myself periodically going here from time to time. I mean, it’s got nothing on the bars that I used to go to, but it’d be very unfair to judge it on that front. The blunt nature kinda gives a demand of respect that strangely resonates with me. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. Just get your alcohol and move the fuck along. Which is what a bar’s identity is at the end of the day.

After getting my eyeful of the joint, I step inside its doors, dying to see the inside, too. And the inside gives a similar vibe. It’s a little more lively with a bit of color here and there with blue LED lights on the banister and colorful designs on the tables. Other than that, still nothing to write home about. Standard dart board, pool tables, tv’s in the corners set to sports, guy sitting in the back, fighting with himself to try and hit on the bartender, it checks every box for a typical notable bar.

I take a whiff of the alcohol polluted air that I haven’t experienced in quite a long time.