Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Maya
“It’s not just a poster board, Ms. Maya.
It’s a collage.“ Miles actually pulls Kiki’s pigtail and she shrieks in surprise.
“Besides, we all know Kiki’s mom is still in rehab!
” A chorus of “oohs” lets me know that the whole class was unfortunately listening in to the conversation.
Kiki turns red with rage and throws her unfinished necklace to the ground.
What is it with junior high kids that makes them such terrors?
I shoot a death stare to Miles to let him know I’ll deal with him later before running after Kiki.
She’s crying quietly in the empty classroom across the hall and quickly wipes her eyes with her sleeves when I enter.
We’re in the music room, surrounded by music stands and a few chairs left behind by the jazz band that finished earlier. I pull up a chair next to her.
“It’s a lie, Ms. Maya!” she shouts at me defensively.
“My mom isn’t in rehab; she’s in therapy.
The necklace is to make her feel better when she comes home.
” Before I started, Tiffany clued me in on some of the kids in the program.
Many came from difficult home situations or were struggling in school; art was to be their outlet to redirect the big feelings hitting kids their age.
In Kiki’s case, her mom had to be hospitalized for some pretty serious postpartum depression after her baby sister was born.
Before the program, she was acting out so much in class, she was in danger of expulsion.
“I know, Kiki.” I pat her on the back and try to keep the pity out of my face; these kids hate that. “Your mom just needed a little help to get better. We all do. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Kiki looks at me with red-rimmed eyes shining with tears.
“I hate him, Ms. Maya! He’s always trying to put me down in front of everyone!” A part of me wants to commiserate, since what Miles said was vile. If I were her age, Miles may have received a kick to the balls for making fun of my mom. Unfortunately, I have to be the adult in this situation.
“Don’t bother hating him, Kiki. He’s not worth it.” She sniffs again, her tears starting to slow. “Just know that we all have our struggles. It’s OK to get help.” I smile conspiratorially before adding, “Your necklace will be way better than his collage anyway.”
She laughs at that, and wipes her face again. It seems like being an art teacher also means being a therapist. Strangely enough, I actually like it. Maybe some of these kids will learn how to express themselves instead of just lashing out.
“Now let’s wipe those tears so you can come back and finish your present.” Kiki nods quietly, the puffiness in her eyes already subsiding. “I’ll be happy to help you finish it; I love handcrafted jewelry and I’m sure your mom will too.”
“Thanks, Ms. Maya.” She gives me a shy smile and we both stand to head back to the classroom. When I look up, Tiffany is leaning against the jamb.
“Go ahead, Kiki,” Tiffany says. “I’m going to have a word with Ms. Maya.”
I try not to look guilty. Shit. Did I handle that wrong?
“Hey, Tiff,” I try to keep my tone light. “What’s up?” She pulls up a chair and beckons me to sit down.
“I just wanted to have a chat with you real quick.” She gestures across the hall. “Don’t worry about your class; I called one of the girls from reception to cover for a few minutes so we could talk.” The dread builds in my stomach.
“Ok…Is everything OK?” Tiffany looks at me like a third eye just popped up on my forehead.
“Ok? Things are way better than OK. I wanted to talk with you to see if…you might be open to staying on with the program when the school year starts.”
I sag with relief against a chair that hardly feels sturdy enough for a full-grown adult. Way to bury the lead, Tiff!
“Oh my god, Tiffany! Seriously?! Yes, I’d love to.” Now it’s Tiffany’s turn to look relieved. Her smile gets wider and she embraces me in a warm hug.
“I’m so glad to hear it, girl. It’s still part time, but it would be after school, from 3 – 6pm Monday through Friday.
Then it turns back into a weekend class over all breaks.
The hourly pay would still be the same, but I figured that would be OK given you have It’s Personal too.
“ I swat her arm like the idea of paying me is ridiculous.
“That’s totally fine, Tiffany. Thanks so much!
I could always use the extra income, and I’ve actually grown to love these kids since I joined the program.
But what happened to what’s-her-name that I’m filling in for?
Wasn’t she supposed to be coming back from her honeymoon? ” Tiffany gives me a rueful smile.
“She was, but she and her wife fell in love with Spain and decided to extend their trip by another two months. She understood I couldn’t start the school year with no art teacher. Plus, the kids love you. Someone comes into my office to sing your praises every week.”
I beam with pride. I can’t believe a favor to a friend turned into such a great opportunity. It seems my personal life had to go up in flames for my professional life to take off. I wish I could celebrate with Adam…or Denise. Tiffany senses a shift in my mood and puts her hand on my shoulder.
“What is it, Maya? You’ve seemed a bit down lately.” I sigh, worried her comforting words are going to make me crack when I’ve been working so hard to keep it all together. How ironic would it be if I came in to help a crying student and ended up crying myself?
“It’s just…Adam and I had a big fight and essentially broke up. He basically said he couldn’t keep convincing me he’s really into me if I refuse to believe him.” Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them away. Tiffany waits for me to continue, sensing I have more to get off my chest.
“And Denise…” More blinking. “Denise got pissed and took Adam’s side. She said I only see the worst in myself, and I just use my friends like therapists when really I need to talk to a professional about my self esteem issues.”
And suddenly, it hits me: Denise is right.
She said I just dump on my friends and I am literally dumping my problems onto another friend, on the verge of tears.
And I told her about my fight with Adam, but not that I caught him cozying up with “Ms. Plan B”.
Deep down, I know there’s more than what I saw.
What I think I saw. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if I made a mistake in not hearing him out.
He is clearly crazy about me…and the feeling is mutual. Tiffany lets out a long sigh, resigned.
“Maya,” she begins carefully. “You are my girl. You have been since junior high. But you do have a tendency to see the worst in yourself. It’s like you internalized everything in that stupid slam book years ago and never got past it.
“ Little does she know I think about that book fairly often.
Those hurtful words have stuck with me all this time.
“You went to a great school. You spend time doing what you love. You just got another job helping kids who need it most, which means not only are you successful, but you’re a good person.
And whether or not you want to believe it, you’re a beautiful woman.
“ I suppress a snort, but she still hears it.
“It’s true, Maya. Carrying around a little extra weight doesn’t make you ugly. Look at me! I’m thick and got the fellas lining up around the block for a taste!” She preens and clicks her tongue, like the confident queen she’s always been.
“You’re beautiful, you’re amazing, and you’ve got amazing friends. Own that shit! And then go get your man back.” She gives me another hug. “But before you do, go make up with Denise. I’m loving being the three amigas, and it won’t work if y’all stay mad at each other.”
She gets up to leave and I head back to my classroom. Denise’s brutal honesty truly hurt, but it isn’t enough to throw away sisterhood.
Back in my place after a sad solo meal at Chipotle where I ate a burrito way too fast to be ladylike, I drop my keys on the kitchen counter.
Kiki finished her necklace and Miles got a verbal warning: cut that shit out or make other plans for Saturdays the rest of the summer.
Considering he has to be in the program because his dad works two jobs and can’t afford a babysitter, Miles swore he’d apologize to Kiki and get his act together.
He didn’t have to say, but I can tell the whole reason for the incident was that he has a crush on her.
I guess teenage boys will forever be clueless when it comes to getting a girl’s attention.
I pick up my phone and pet Khan absently while it rings. He purrs like a motorcycle; his way of offering moral support. I’m going to need it. Denise picks up on the third ring.
“Hello?” She doesn’t sound pleased to get my call. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Hi Denise…Do you have a second to talk?” I’m going to do my best not to drop all my problems at her feet anymore.
“I picked up, didn’t I?” Ouch! Her voice is still full of anger and hurt. I can do this.
“I—“ I clear my throat, which has suddenly become sandpaper. “I wanted to call and apologize.” I hear her sharp intake of breath. She wasn’t expecting an apology.
“You were right; I make my problems your problems, and I don’t listen as much as I should.”
“I may have been right, but I was a bitch.” In seconds, the anger has completely drained from her voice.
“I didn’t have to unload on you like that.
You’d just had a crazy stressful night with your boyfriend’s family and I made the whole thing about our bullshit.
” My heart squeezes when I remember all the painful things she yelled.
“Maybe next time, don’t wait years to tell me the truth.
” That’s what hurts the most; not only did she think I was a terrible friend, but she waited years to tell me anything about it!
But if I don’t let that go, I’m letting go of a friend that’s like a sister.
That’s major for an only child. “The only reason I always came to you, is because I trust your opinion more than my own. And I always assumed you would do the same if you needed to talk to me about something.” I wipe the tears starting to form in my eyes and hear her long exhale over the phone.
“I definitely do, Maya. But I talk to a professional about the really heavy stuff.” My shoulders tense as soon as I hear the word “professional”. Does she think I’m crazy or something? She must’ve guessed what my silence is about.
“Don’t be like that, Maya. I go, maybe once a month, or more if I’m really going through something.
Most of the time, it’s like an emotional tune-up to make sure I’m not picking up some unhealthy coping mechanisms. Like excessive retail therapy, or going on a bunch of Tinder hook-ups where I barely remember their name. ”
I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realize Denise went to therapy. I didn’t realize she had a reason to need therapy, though I guess that sounds crazy when I really think about it. I’ve waited too long to talk again and Denise chuckles.
“All right, all right. Enough of the after school special. What happened with all the Adam stuff? Did y’all make up?” Ha! Not exactly.
“We actually kinda…broke up.” Denise gasps dramatically.
“Maya! Oh my God. Are you OK? What happened?”
And for the second time today, I tell someone other than Khan all the gory details about the breakup.
I even tell her about sneaking into Adam’s apartment building to apologize, catching him with Emily and a bottle of wine, and the embarrassing scene on the sidewalk.
But it doesn’t feel good to get it all off my chest. It feels final, like saying it out loud validates the breakup, and I’ve been desperate to believe it was all a horrible nightmare.
“Damn, Maya. I’m so sorry,” she almost whispers. So was I. “I know you really liked him, even though it’d only been a few months.”
“To be honest, I was in love with him. I am in love with him.“ She stifles a snort that would really piss me off if I weren’t already devastated.
“How can you be sure? It’s hardly been any time at all.” Even so, I’ve known for weeks. I allowed myself to believe it was mutual; that it was just a matter of time before we exchanged the words.
“I just know. That’s why I kept running away so much at first. Feeling so strong so fast scared the shit out of me.” I hang my head, beyond hopeless. “And now it’s over.”
“Maya, what the fuck?” My head pops up, shocked at her response. Maybe she’s still pissed at me. “You’re gonna through away a great guy, a guy you claim to love, over one bad fight?”
“But he said he didn’t want to see me!”
“No he didn’t, bitch!” She’s talking to me like I sometimes hear some of the other teachers talk to students.
Like she’s disappointed I’m not seeing something right in front of me.
“He said he’s tired of you taking out your insecurities on him when he’s clearly crazy about you.
I don’t believe he was hooking up with Emily for a minute.
You said he practically had to get a restraining order. ”
“Oh, I know that,” I say absentmindedly. The bombshell that Adam didn’t dump me is still swirling around my head, making all other thought almost impossible. He didn’t break up with me?
“Well, then why haven’t you called him? Or texted? Or tried going over there again?” From the sound of it, Denise is gesticulating as she gets more and more hyped.
“I’ve tried texting and calling,” I shrug, defeated. “He doesn’t answer my calls, and texts are just, like, one-word answers. He’s not trying to link up to talk. He’s not trying to see me at all.” And it’s excruciating.
“Oh. Well…Maybe just give it time. Give him time to cool down.” She hesitates. “And…maybe give yourself time to talk to someone to help with your emotional stuff. There’s nothing wrong with it. Just think about it.”
I had never thought about therapy, but Denise is my girl, and she wouldn’t suggest it if it weren’t legit. Plus, she seems like the most confident, bold woman I know, next to Tiffany. Maybe it’s because of therapy. Maybe it’s time to let some of my baggage go.