Chapter 10
AIDAN
No one warned me how many meetings I’d have to attend as a teacher. When I imagined my life, the image in my head was always me, in front of a whiteboard, with a room full of mesmerized students.
Yeah, I know.
There’ve been a few moments over my career that approached that, all promptly interrupted by a student complaining or a fire alarm.
The meetings, on the other hand, are never-ending. With parents. Administrators. Other teachers. Students. Custodians. It’s a whole range of things that don’t fall into what I consider teaching.
But here I am at yet another mandatory faculty meeting. No clue what they have in mind today, only that I can practically guarantee I won’t like the subject.
“Take your seats so we can get started,” Principal Rodriguez calls over the sound of multiple conversations. It takes a few minutes, but eventually everyone finds a seat and settles down. We all know exactly what it’s like to be at the front of the room and ignored.
“Now, I know that these meetings aren’t a favorite, so I’ll try to keep it short and sweet.” There’s no glee in the room. Mainly because that’s an empty promise we’ve heard a hundred times. It’s never short nor sweet.
“First, family night is in two weeks.” That reminder gets a big groan from everyone in the room.
“The students will be getting the information sheet to take home tomorrow. Start thinking about the things you want to highlight, gathering resources, and putting together what you’ll need.
It’s a nice opportunity to showcase the hard work students are doing in your classroom.
” Lucky for me, that’s easy in kindergarten.
Students produce a lot of artwork that’s easy to display, and parents are easily impressed by the work their kids do.
Still, I want to find the right thing to put up around the room.
It’ll be almost Thanksgiving, so hand turkeys are a given.
“Second,” she continues, even though I’m pretty sure the whole room is whispering back and forth instead of paying attention.
“I know these weeks around Thanksgiving and winter break can be especially long and hard, which brings with it the temptation to back off some of the more intense curricular elements. I want to encourage you to make sure you’re keeping pace and that you continue holding the students to a high standard. ”
There’s lots of mumbling, but no arguing.
When I was a kid, my teachers used to put on movies, making some vague suggestion that they might contribute to the overall curriculum.
And while I only have fond memories of that, it doesn’t fly anymore.
For good reason, but there are many days I wish I could put on a movie, sit in my chair, and catch up on lesson planning.
“And finally, I want to thank Mr. Matthews and Mr. Ralston for volunteering to serve as chaperones for the school trip to The Nutcracker. We still need six more volunteers, so please let me know if you’re interested.
If no one else puts their hand up, I’ll draw random names tomorrow to fill the slots. ”
I keep my gaze fixed on the front of the room. Every teacher in the room is likely staring at me, wondering what possessed me to do this. No one, and I mean no one, volunteers. Worse? I roped Silas into it alongside me, assuring Principal Rodriguez that he was equally excited at the opportunity.
Is he going to kill me? Possibly. From experience, I know he’d be terrible at hiding the body. He hides a few things around his room each year, meant to be part of a yearlong scavenger hunt. The students find every item before the end of September.
I manage to avoid the death stare I can practically feel putting a hole in my head. As soon as the principal wraps up, I make a beeline for my classroom.
“Aidan!” Silas shouts as he jogs to catch up with me. There’s no chance I’ll be able to outrun him, so I slow down.
“What the actual fuck?”
“First, language. Second, it’ll be fun. Plus, we’ll get to hang out together outside of school.” It’s a weak argument, one that wouldn’t work on me if our roles were reversed.
“If you need attention, then you ask me to go out for a beer. Not sign me up to monitor a bunch of brats at a ballet.” He pulls me into his classroom. “Is this about the whole Covey situation?”
“There’s no Covey situation. We’re friends. That’s it.” My mind flashes back to the diner, him sitting there with a waffle on his plate, covering it in maple syrup before digging in, the biggest grin on his face as he told me a story about a mishap during a show back in Amsterdam.
“Sure.” He waves his hand like there’s some code we’ve agreed on here. “But, I like him.”
“Of course you do, everyone likes Covey.” Not entirely true, but it should be. “He’s amazing.” What’s not to love about someone so sweet and full of energy?
Silas eyes me suspiciously.
“He’s a good friend.” I’m lucky enough to have met him early on.
The most amazing guy who somehow saved me on the first day of school and kept doing it nearly every day after.
Maybe that’s why I agreed to this whole thing now.
It’s my chance, for once, to swoop in and save him. Be the hero he’s always been to me.
“And how is he as a boyfriend?” He waggles his eyebrows at me, and I roll my eyes dramatically.
“No idea. Remember, that’s the part we’re faking.” My chest clenches as I say the words. It all feels so real, effortless. So much easier than my usual lackluster relationships.
“Oh, come on. At least use the full range of benefits. I mean, if you aren’t able to go out and get some in other places, then it only makes sense for your fake boyfriend to offer some real benefits.” I stare at him, mouth half open at the words. “What?”
“I’m trying to remember why I’m friends with you.”
“Because I’m amazing. And because I’m going to do this whole chaperone thing without giving you too much shit about it.” I suspect his definition of too much and mine might be drastically different.
“Something like that.” I turn away and go back to my work.
“It’s not like it’s such a big loss for me to go a few weeks without dating.
” Honestly, there’s a nearly one hundred percent chance I wouldn’t have gone on a single date during this time.
The holidays are not the ideal time to go around picking people up—women or men—and starting a relationship.
It might work for a night or two, but I want something more fulfilling. A relationship that’s about more than sex. Where my college friends bragged about their conquests and seemed energized after a hookup, I always felt empty. It’s a feeling I’m not looking to continually replicate.
“Covey and I talked about it and agreed on some parameters for physical contact.”
“Parameters for physical contact,” Silas impersonates me with a robotic voice. “So does that mean you can fuck him?”
I sigh. This conversation is going nowhere except to a place where I reconsider my friendships. “Language.”
“The kids aren’t even here.”
“It’s still good practice. It’ll keep you from saying something stupid later when they are here.” That’s my philosophy. The minute I make exceptions, I start dropping f-bombs in the middle of story time. I’m pretty sure that’s a good way to get myself fired. Or worse.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Can I interest you in changing the subject if it comes with a beer?” I offer.
“I’m listening.”
“That’s the whole thing. I’m bribing you with a drink—one drink. In or out?”
“Sold, but I’m only dropping the topic for the night. It’s coming back for you.” He tilts his head to the side. “You owe me.”
COVEY
“Are you even paying attention?” The way Krisztina says it, it’s not a question.
She’s already decided. The worst part is that she’s right.
My brain seems to have wandered off somewhere around our fifteenth attempt.
Not great considering how little it was doing before then.
Brain and body are not on the same page today.
“Sorry,” I mutter. “Let’s do it one more time.
” She huffs but resets to her starting position.
Honestly, if she chose to walk out of the room without another word, I wouldn’t be surprised.
A little disappointed but not surprised.
It’s been one screw up after another. I’ve done everything except drop her, but there have been a few close calls.
I hit play on the music and wait for the cue for my entrance.
I wish I could say everything suddenly came together, but it didn’t.
Not even close. Where there’s usually a sense of flow and connection, today I’m all thumbs and toes.
Partnering feels foreign, like my limbs aren’t even attached to my body.
I haven’t felt this off in… I can’t remember the last time.
It’s not quite a catastrophe, but it’s close.
When I fumble on one of the turns, Krisztina pulls away and glares at me.
“I’m done.”
Well, shit. We've only practiced together once, and she already hates me. This doesn’t bode well for my future with GMBC.
It’s not like she has a lot of pull, but getting a reputation as anything other than pleasant and easy to work with this early in my tenure is likely to be a kiss of death.
I’m not in the mood to be back out on the job market or moving again anytime soon.
Besides, I only got back in touch with Aidan beyond liking each other’s images on Instagram.
Aidan. He’s the reason my head keeps floating away.
It keeps going back to our fake date together.
Except, the time in the diner wasn’t fake.
It wasn’t us trying to convince my family that we’re together or put on a show.
That time was all us, the version of us I remember from years ago.
Laughing our way through a meal that realistically couldn’t be half as good as homemade lasagna, and yet every bite tasted perfect.
It’s not because they have the best waffles—I’ve had better.
It was all Aidan, the comfort and spark he brings into my life.
When we left to go to our cars, we lingered for a few moments, standing close enough that I could’ve leaned in and kissed him.
A thought I shouldn’t be having.
“I’m sorry, I’ll work on the steps a bit more tonight, and then we can try again.” I’m not sure more practice will help, but I have to offer something.
“It’s not the steps, Covey. It’s your head. Where is it?” Krisztina points to the side of her head.
“I don’t know. I’m trying.”
“Well, maybe that’s the problem. You’re trying too hard.
Dance is here.” She taps her chest a few times.
It’s not a new sentiment. I’ve heard the same thing a hundred times throughout my training.
Still, no matter how much heart and dedication go into it, at least some of it is in my head.
And a bit in my feet and legs. “You need to free your heart to focus on the dance.”
No idea what it means, but I nod my head assuredly, hoping she’ll buy it.
“We’ll try again tomorrow, Covey.” She gives me a quick hug and peck on the cheek. It’s mildly reassuring. Now I’ve got twenty-four hours to get over whatever funk I’ve gotten myself into.
As soon as the door closes behind her, I make a beeline for my bag and my phone. Aidan’s name is in my notifications, which makes the dread coursing through me ease up a bit. It’s because he’s such a good friend, and after a day like this, I could use one.
Aidan
Busy tonight?
Am I? Realistically, I should spend the rest of the evening rewatching the video recordings from previous years and working on the steps.
Maybe meditating a bit to clear my mind—of heart—to be ready for tomorrow.
But there’s a nagging sensation begging me to see him.
Maybe I can do both? Yeah, probably not, but I’m willing to try.
Me
Nope. Come over?