Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SIMONE
Several days being shadowed by his guardian made more of a difference than I’d expected with Jasper.
He wasn’t sociable yet, still preferred to keep to himself, but his work was finished consistently and he stopped getting into fights.
An entire week went by without incident and when I reported the news to Reagan, she was ecstatic to hear it.
She was having less luck with Evan, and she was glad Jasper at least was trying to do better.
He’d also consistently done well on the assignments I gave him from the eighth grade math class.
Well enough that Reagan and I agreed it was time to test him a little, giving him a trial run in John’s class.
John was on board, and I filled him in on everything he needed to know about Jasper, including his guardian’s involvement in his education and willingness to sit in on a class or two to keep Jasper on track if need be.
Elias had been informed and gave the thumbs up.
The only person I hadn’t cleared it with was Jasper.
“Mr. Reed, stay behind, please. I have something I need to discuss with you,” I called over the noise of the students packing up their bags to move onto their next class.
He looked up with a frown, but didn’t argue, hovering by his desk until the class spilled out and we were alone.
I gestured to the desk nearest mine so he could sit.
“I didn’t do anything,” he started, already defensive. I ignored the tone, waving away his concern.
“I know. I didn’t ask you to stay behind because you did anything wrong. It’s actually the opposite.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Pulling out the most recent assignments he’d handed in to me, I offered them to him, pointing out the grades.
Slowly, he slid into the seat of the desk I’d gestured to, his brows drawn together tightly.
I noted the improvements since his first day, though, his posture less tense and coiled for a fight, the grip on his backpack strap more neutral.
Little improvements that made a world of difference when having a conversation with him.
“Have you noticed at all that you’ve been doing different assignments from everyone else?”
The way his face twisted told me the answer even before he shook his head. I nodded, unsurprised given that he still didn’t have friends as far as I was aware. At least not in my class.
“I noticed early on that you show a lot of promise in mathematics. With everything you were going through, I didn’t think it would be a good time to do any official testing.
Instead, I offered you some assignments from Mr. Karlsen’s class to see if the material was more at your level.
” I gave a significant look at the grades printed at the top.
“You know the material already, don’t you? ”
Something flickered across his face, a dark cloud that told me this was a more sensitive subject than I’d first thought. To my surprise, he didn’t just push the papers away and act like it was nothing. He explained himself instead.
“Mama was a math professor. She started teaching me math when I was Isla’s age. I’ve always been good at math,” he grumbled.
It explained a great deal more than just his ability.
It all suddenly made a lot of sense. His refusal to participate in my class especially, feigning ignorance on assignments I now knew were too easy for him.
It all connected to his mother, and indirectly to her death. It made math a sore subject for him.
My tone was softer, more soothing, when I told him, “She did an amazing job teaching you. You’re advanced enough that I’d like to do a trial run with you joining Mr. Karlsen’s class during math.” He was shaking his head before I finished the sentence. I pushed a little. “Can I ask why?”
“Mama and Mom both said they didn’t want me advancing grades. They said my social development was just as important as intellectual stuff. They wouldn’t want me to switch.”
Pursing my lips, I thought about how to approach the subject.
While I understood, and on some level agreed, with his mothers’ approach on his education and development, I wasn’t sure they’d stick to that mindset at his age.
“Your moms wanted you to grow with your peers, and that was important when you were younger. If it were me, I probably would’ve done the same thing.
But you’ve been developing socially for years.
You’re more than ready to handle the challenges of a more advanced course load and development at your age isn’t as strictly tied to age grouping like it is in elementary school. ”
“It’s not?” He looked confused, but not outright against the idea.
“It’s really not. Besides, a year difference isn’t something to worry about. You won’t lose anything they valued about your upbringing. Using that skill that your mother developed since you were a toddler will only be building on their values, not taking away from them.”
He looked down at the papers, then back up at me. For the first time since he arrived in my class, he looked truly vulnerable, his eyes searching mine for answers I knew he wished he could get from the women who raised him. I pressed my lips together, raising my eyebrows at him.
“I can’t tell you what they’d say or do if they were here, I didn’t know them like you did, but I can tell you that if your mothers were around, I’d be having this exact conversation with them. I’d explain things in the exact same way. You tell me, how would they respond?”
The question made him thoughtful and his eyes darted back and forth as he tried to imagine the conversation with his mothers present.
When he finally looked back at me, his expression was more confident.
“Mama always said education was important. If I wanted to be a good member of society, I had to work hard in school. I don’t think she would ignore a teacher saying I’d do better in another class. ”
I dipped my chin in agreement. “Knowing you as long as I have, I have to imagine they were smart women. I think they’d be the type to give it a trial run at the very least. So what do you think? Are you willing to spend a week with Mr. Karlsen? See if you fit in well there?”
He nodded again, more determined now. I thought maybe by bringing his moms into the conversation and asking what he’d think their opinions would be, it helped with his uncertainty.
Gave him a little more confidence knowing he was making choices based on what they would’ve wanted.
And when he stood, he offered me a hand to shake like a proper gentleman.
I bit back a laugh, standing and shaking his hand.
“Thank you for listening, Mr. Reed. We’ll have you start with Mr. Karlsen on Monday.”
“Thank you, Ms. Brooks,” he said politely, heading for the door. It felt like I was seeing the real Jasper for the first time, more polite and self assured, a young gentleman raised by two women who adored him and taught him well. I had high hopes for his future.
He paused in the doorway, seeming to hover for a second before looking back at me. He looked contemplative, and when I tipped my head at him, waiting for him to speak, he wrinkled his nose. “Do you only tutor older kids?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I teach middle school. Who else would I tutor?”
He opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated, that earlier confidence wavering. I pushed just a little. Whatever he wanted to say was important, I could see it on his face. He just needed the confidence to speak without being judged.
“Whatever you want to ask, just ask. I promise you, there are no stupid questions.”
He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me, which at his age, was entirely fair. He likely thought a lot of his classmates asked stupid questions. He’d learn eventually that no matter the question, it was better to ask and learn than it was to keep it to himself and attempt something blind.
“I, uh… Mama started teaching me math when I was Isla’s age. I want to do the same for her, but I don’t know where to start. Can you help me? I don’t want her missing out just ‘cause Mama’s not here.”
The request was so sweet, I could have melted. I kept the response to myself, nodding once. “I can do that. How about I come to visit this weekend and we can sit down with Elias and make a plan on Isla’s education. Something that your mothers would approve of. How does that sound?”
He nodded again. “Sounds good. Thanks.”
He left the room after I gave him a pass for making him late, and I sank into my desk chair, letting out a slow breath.
Of all the requests he could have asked, I never expected that one.
Maybe I should have, even when he was at his worst he showed he put his little sister first, but it wasn’t something I expected a middle school boy to ever think about.
And while I’d never done tutoring for a toddler before, I couldn’t make myself say no.
He’d lost enough in his life. He was trying not to lose his sister’s connection to their parents. If I could help with that, I would.
A knock at the door drew my attention and Reagan poked her head in, a frown pulling at her lips. “That was the most heartbreaking conversation I think I’ve ever heard.”
Huffing a laugh, I sat up in my chair. “You were eavesdropping?”
She shrugged. “I was walking the halls and overheard you talking. My interactions with Jasper have been limited, but he sounded a lot older than his years talking to you. And you treated him like an adult, letting him make the decision himself. Not all teachers would do that.”
“I’m not all teachers,” I countered, which made her roll her eyes.
I chuckled, shaking my head as I tidied the papers on my desk.
“I try to balance treating my students like they’re capable of making their own decisions with the fact that they’re still very much kids.
Jasper is a special case. I get the feeling he had to grow up fast after his moms died, taking care of his little sister while waiting to find a stable home.
He’s also the only one who knows how his mothers thought.
He would know better than anyone how they would respond and what they would prioritize.
Letting him be that voice for them seemed to help. ”
She nodded in agreement. “I think so too. And since he’s starting in John’s class on Monday, you can finally shoot your shot with the hottie biker who couldn’t stop looking at you whenever he was in your class.”
Spluttering, I looked up at her, wide-eyed. “What?”
She grinned, and the look was entirely too mischievous for a middle school principal. “I’m pretty sure everyone noticed. It didn’t matter where you were, if he was walking past you, he was staring. And I didn’t miss the flirtatious looks he sent your way.”
“I– I didn’t– I never–”
She held up a hand, stopping my rambling protests.
“Relax. I know you. You never would allow yourself to start something with a parent or guardian while that student is in your class. But he’s not in your class anymore, or at least he won’t be soon.
No one would blame you for testing the waters a little.
Go on a date. See if there’s a spark. You’ve been single so long, you’re at risk of the local cat population showing up at your door. ”
“Reagan!”
“Simone!” she mimicked my tone, snickering when I started rubbing my temples.
“Look, you’re my closest friend and I noticed the way your voice softened whenever you talked about him from day one.
I respect you keeping things separate while Jasper is your student, but you should give him a shot.
He’s a good guy. Which sounds weird when talking about a biker, but he spent half a week in class with Jasper to get him back on track and never lost his temper once.
He also did a presentation in Mr. Stickleman’s class, played dodgeball with the kids, and read passages out loud in Ms. Blair’s class, all with a smile on his face.
If you’re going to take a chance on someone, take a chance on the guy who’s willing to do all that just so his cousin knows he’s got someone in his corner. ”