Chapter 7 And the Winner Is… #2
Luca and Allegra didn’t merely laugh politely at Roxy’s infectious humor, they contributed to it.
They enjoyed it, and Isaac listened to the three of them tell stories avidly, remembering that time in his life when this was the best part of whatever event had brought him to a restaurant.
It didn’t matter if it had been a concert, a rave, or a passed final—sitting at the table, listening to other people’s stories, had always felt very communal.
They were down to their last sip of virgin margaritas (and who didn’t love a sour lime Slushee?), and Roxy was winding down the unlikely but true story of when her first student-teaching class had rebelled against her, staging a revolt that included talking and ignoring her, standing on desks and yelling while she was alone in the room without her master teacher to back her up.
Luca and Allegra laughed at the appropriate parts and winced sympathetically, and then Luca said, “But you came back? I can’t believe you came back after the little bastards did that to you. ”
Roxy sighed. “The thing about teaching,” she said, leaning back and wiping out her drink, “is that it’s about belief.
I spent all summer looking at myself in the mirror, saying, ‘I do not deserve to be shit on. I know my subject. I’m older than these little assholes.
If anybody’s going to cry today, it’s not going to be me.
’ And then I walked into my next student-teaching class that fall saying that to myself.
At first I was sort of an unbearable bitch, but eventually you find that balance, you know?
Between belief in yourself and the need to assert authority.
” She glanced at Isaac. “It helps when you admit your weaknesses. I don’t exude natural authority.
Isaac doesn’t either. Which means the kids have to listen to us because there’s something in it for them. ”
Isaac nodded thoughtfully. “You have to make damned sure your lesson plan is ready to go. I mean, sometimes you have room to experiment—the extra credit assignment today. But sometimes if you get one instruction the least bit fuzzy—”
Roxy snapped her fingers.
“Like that,” he said. “The class will go like that. And if you’ve got any strong personalities….”
They both shuddered.
“That was bad,” Roxy said. “I… damn. Isaac, you walked back into the classroom after that. Bravest thing I ever saw.”
Luca cocked his head. “What was?” he said. “Isaac never told us that story.”
Roxy glanced at him, and he shrugged, making the time-honored “go on” gesture with his hand.
“Two bad things happened at once,” she said, turning to Luca and Allegra.
“The first was the front office got the schedule wrong for when progress reports went out. Nobody had entered their grades, and the computer just sent out progress reports that had half the kids failing, and we hadn’t even talked to the kids about what they were missing or how to fix it.
It was bad. The whole school was pissed.
You could smell it in the air. It was bad. ”
“That’s serious,” Allegra said, straightening. “That’s dangerous.”
Roxy and Isaac both nodded. “The day was hot, and there was this dry wind blowing down in October—even the weather had everybody’s back up,” Isaac said, remembering.
“What was the other thing?” Luca asked.
“The other thing was that fuckin’ hate group,” Roxy muttered. “You know, the one that keeps trying to make it illegal to be gay or trans?”
Luca and Allegra both raised their eyebrows. “Yeah, we know that one.”
“Well, there was a Proud Boy rally at the local park, supporting their favorite hate group,” Roxy said. “And there was a kid—sweet little thing, right? Trans. If these kids hadn’t grown up together, practically from the cradle, not a soul would have guessed she wasn’t a she from birth.”
Isaac tried to keep his breathing even. He thought he could deal with this story, but his heart still ached.
“And there was the whole school, just this one big ugly grumble, and there was the ten percent of the school whose parents thought the Proud Boys were the shit, and there was Angel, running through the quad in a rainbow miniskirt, calling Isaac’s name because she was scared.”
Luca and Allegra both stared at them in horror.
“What happened?” Luca asked.
Roxy glanced at Isaac, and her eyes were dark with memory. “It was terrifying,” she said. “Isaac saw Angel from his room—saw the crowd after her, like in a movie, but scarier, and he ran to his door to let her in and then slammed the door shut behind him and locked it.”
“You were right there with me,” Isaac said, finding his voice. “You must have sprinted—you were, like, seven months pregnant. Scared the shit out of me. There we were, our backs to the door, and the crowd….” He shuddered.
“Someone took a swing at me,” Roxy said, “and Isaac stepped forward and caught it in the face. At that point the principal stepped into it, started shoving kids out of the way, telling them to break it up and go back to their classes. Other teachers stepped in, started doing the same thing, and eventually the mob broke up.” She glanced at Isaac.
“Isaac was a mess. He had a concussion, his eye was already swelling, his nose was bleeding, his lip was split open.”
“Poor Angel,” Isaac said. “She had to change schools.” He gave Roxy a sad smile.
“John—the principal,” he added to Luca and Allegra, “he… he was really good. But he started drinking shortly after that. We didn’t blame him, but he finally quit so he could dry out and parent his own kids. I think he sells insurance now.”
“And you guys kept teaching?” Allegra asked, wide-eyed.
“Who else is going to help the Angels?” Roxy asked, a faint smile at the double meaning. “And honestly, that was one instance out of a handful—but seventy percent of the time, you have days like today. Quiet miracles. Those are the reasons to stay.”
Luca frowned. “I’m not great at math, but… five percent of the time it’s terrifying, seventy percent of the time it’s wonderful—what’s the other twenty percent of the time?”
“Admin,” Roxy and Isaac said together and then laughed.
“God, meetings are the suck,” Isaac said, with feeling.
“I swear to God, after that thing happened, there were at least ten meetings in which I was trotted out as the poor soul who was injured in the line of duty, and Roxy and I were the first people cut off whenever anybody looked for a solution to the root of the problem. Gay-Straight Alliance? Too radical. Town meeting where we talked about hate speech? Too divisive. How about just a letter to parents where we put the blame on the kids who were shouting slurs the entire time and a zero-tolerance policy? Nope. And you gotta give props to the English and history departments—they were fighting along with us the whole way.” He shook his head.
“What’d the administration do?” Luca asked softly.
“Nothing,” Roxy murmured. “In the end, nothing. That was five years ago. As you may guess, it’s getting worse again.
” She grimaced. “Brian begged me to quit. I managed to leverage the moment into some extra paid maternity leave, which was good for both of us, but if I hadn’t done that, he might have won that argument. ”
“What about Todd?” Luca asked.
Isaac looked away. “Todd actually wrote my letter of resignation. He picked me up from the hospital, and it was all written, on official stationery, and notarized. All I wanted was a fucking hug, and he put a pen in my hand.” Isaac snorted.
“I almost stabbed him with it.” He paused and remembered what Luca had said about remembering the good things too, and suddenly, he saw Todd’s handsome, patrician-featured face, with the strain around overbright, red-rimmed eyes.
“We didn’t talk for a week. It took me that long to recover from the concussion, and by then I’d figured out that he’d been worried about me.
Yeah, taking time to write the stupid letter while I was waiting in the ER was a douchebag move, but…
you know. I think his heart was in the right place. ”
“It’s a good thing you waited a week to tell me that,” Roxy muttered.
“My blood was so hot by then, the only thing that kept me from coming over to stab Todd with a pen myself was that I was on bed rest.” She gave half a laugh.
“I begged Brian to do it—I seem to recall referencing Strangers on a Train. Nobody would suspect him—it would be the perfect alibi. He went out and got us both cookies and ice cream instead.”
“Ben & Jerry’s,” Isaac remembered with a fond smile.
“And E.L. Fudge. He put them in my lap himself when I was sitting on the couch, and then he went to fetch a spoon. Todd just stared at him, but Brian gave me a napkin and winked and told me to come visit you as soon as I felt better and then left.” He gave Roxy a grateful look.
“It’s a good thing he’s a keeper, because otherwise, you need to tell him to stop getting you pregnant. ”
Roxy cackled. “Nope. We want a basketball team with a bench player. It’s a goal.”
There was general laughter, but the story had brought the tone down a little, and it was getting late.
When they got out to their vehicles, Roxy drove away first, and Allegra got in the passenger’s side of Luca’s truck. Luca walked over to where Isaac was setting his leftovers on the console and waited for him to stand up to speak.
“What’s up?” Isaac asked. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Oh yeah. Uhm, Allegra was wondering if we could bring Nonna and Pop Pop over too. That way I could show them how the house is going, and you and Nonna and Allegra could do the yarn thing, and they could get out of the old folks’ home for a day.
I can cook, if you like. I’ve got a pesto dish that’s a pain in the ass, but if I’m cooking for five of us, it’ll be worth it. ”
“Cook?” Isaac asked, suddenly absolutely pleased.