CHAPTER 22
Palmer
Day Three
“Ms. Jade, why do we have to do this stuff?” Jamari whines, draping himself over the back of his chair. “It’s so boring.”
Brinley pipes up from beside him. “Besides, can’t our phones help us, like, read something if we don’t know how?”
The other four students in the room shout out in agreement.
“Because, you guys, reading is important. You have to be able to read to do anything else.”
Zain pats himself on the chest. “Not me, yo. I’m going to be a professional football player/streamer.”
The other students make jabs at him, but Zain pretends not to hear.
“Oh, really?” I ask. “Well, who’s going to read your contracts for you?”
He waves my question away with his hand. “Pfft, that’s easy, Ms. J. Imma hire an attorney.”
“Uh huh… and how do you know he’s telling you the truth and doing what’s best for you?”
Iyla interrupts snarkily, “Uh, hello? It could be a she. Women can be scammers, too, ya know. Fight the patriarchy.” She raises her fist in the air.
“Man, you play too much, Iyla.” Tyson sucks his teeth at her, shaking his head in annoyance. “Obviously it could be a woman. She’s just saying.”
Iyla opens her mouth to argue back, but Raf jumps in first. “It’d definitely be a chick. You know girls be crazy.”
The boys start laughing and giving each other high fives, but I cut them off.
“Guys, don’t be rude. You can be silly and goofy and play with each other, but what do I tell you about stereotypes?”
The four of them have the good sense to look ashamed even if the expression is paired with a couple of eyerolls. “That they’re harmful to everyone,” they mutter in unison.
“But we was just playin’!” Tyson says.
“I know you were, but pretty soon, the things you say becomes the way you think about yourself and others. Is that the kind of thing you want to think about women your whole life?”
“No, ma’am.”
Iyla looks smug while Brinley sits with her head in her hand, waiting for us to get back to the lesson.
“Now, I guess I should probably correct what I was saying. Zain, how would you know whether the lawyer was telling you the truth if you didn’t read the contract yourself?”
Zain looks at me confused. “Wait, why’s a lawyer looking at it? I thought I had an attorney?”
The rest of the class bursts into laughter.
“And this, my friends, is precisely why we practice reading: so that we can know what different words mean,” I say with a grin on my face.
Only middle schoolers.
Tyson bumps Zain playfully. “A lawyer is an attorney, dawg. It’s the same thing.”
Zain makes a face, looking remarkably like Urkel, then says, “Well, yeah. I knew that.” He walks around next to my chair then puts his arms around my shoulders. “I was just making sure Ms. Jade knew that.”
“Oh, my word, Zain. You’re ridiculous.” I nudge him, then whisper loudly, “Thanks for keeping me on my A-game.”
He winks at me. “I gotchu, Ms. J.”
I shake my head and chuckle to myself. It’s the same argument we have every time.
We almost have it down to a script. “Okay, my dudes, it is time to pack up our stuff and head to second hour. Make good choices, and I will see you later. You all ready for your math test?” I take the pained looks on their faces as a resounding no.
“That’s okay. We’ll do some review, so you all feel ready to rock and roll. ”
The students each give me a fist bump as they leave the room and join their peers in the cacophony of the hallway for passing period. I step into the hall, chatting with students and prompting them along so they’re not late. “Hustle, hustle, everyone! David, let’s go, my guy!”
My watch vibrates, and I see a text from an unknown number. I pull out my phone to read it and am pleasantly surprised to see that it’s from Bailey.
Bailey: Good morning beautiful.
Palmer: Who is this?
While I’m glad he did text me, I’m pretty annoyed that it’s been multiple days.
I thought he’d told me that he would have his phone at this training.
And I, being a dumbass, forgot to ask him for his number before he left on Sunday, so it’s not like I could text him first anyway.
I would like to blame it on the fact that I was super bummed he was going to be gone, but honestly, I’m pretty sure I was dehydrated, and my body was in some form of mild shock.
You know, from all the orgasms.
Bailey: Haha very funny, Palmer.
Palmer: I’m just playing. I know it’s you, Bailey ?
Palmer: Just had to give you some shit for not messaging me the past two days or giving me your number before you left on Sunday.
Bailey: Yeah, sorry, baby. I was in a hurry to get stuff packed, and getting my number in your phone wasn’t exactly the first thing on my mind when I was with you.
Bailey: I thought we were going to have our phones the whole time but apparently not.
My face flushes at the memory of Sunday night, but I need to get it together.
I’ve got kids to teach and things to do today.
I can’t spend all day on my phone with Bailey, but I sure want to.
His comment about their phones makes me wonder why they couldn’t have them, but I know better than to ask.
Based on what he told me, even if I did, he wouldn’t be able to give me an answer anyway.
Palmer: I’ll take it into consideration. I’ve got to get to my next class, but I’ll message you as I get time throughout the day.
Bailey: That sounds perfect. I’ll try to text you, too, but you know how that goes.
Palmer: Suuuure. You just don’t want to talk to me ? How will I ever survive?
Bailey: You know damn well that is not the case. Need I remind you of how I proved it on Sunday?
Palmer: Negative, Ghost Rider. I hear you loud and clear.
Bailey: That’s what I thought. Talk to you later, baby.
Palmer: Talk to you later.
When most people think of the labors of Heracles, they consider feats of great strength and wisdom, not trying to avoid texting someone.
But I would like to present for consideration the fact that the specific someone in question makes me go all weak in the knees just by looking at me and has some sort of unnatural power that makes my body react in the most extreme ways.
I would argue that my restraint is Herculean in nature.
We just won’t mention the fact that I mentally convince myself at least seventeen times an hour that I feel my watch vibrate and check it only to be greeted with a blank watch face. It’s bad enough that the kids notice it, and they’re middle schoolers; they notice nothing.
“Dang, Ms. Jade. Your doctor supposed to call or something?” Jamari asks in fourth hour.
I look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He scoffs at me. “Girl, don’t play like you don’t know what I’m talking about. People only check their phone if they’re expecting bad news, waiting on the doctor to call, or—” Jamari’s eyes light up mischievously. “Ooooh, Ms. J, you got a new man?”
“No,” I answer a little too quickly, confirming his suspicion. “The doctor. Just waiting on that.”
“Nuh uh, Ms. J., you shoulda seen your face when Jamari asked if you got a new man.” Zain’s eyes go big, and his mouth gapes like a fish out of water. “What! No! It’s the doctor!” he mimics me using a high-pitched voice. “Soooo, who is he?”
Iyla chimes in. “Yeah, Ms. J., who is he?”
I school my face into my teacher mask and gently chide them. “Guys, there’s no guy. I’m just waiting on test results from my doctor.”
Jamari’s face takes on an expression of genuine concern, all joking gone from his eyes. “Yo, you not dying, are you, Ms. J.?”
“No, I’m not dying,” I reassure them all then continue weaving my lie. “It’s just some bloodwork to test my blood sugar.”
They all nod, seeming to accept the answer, then turn back to their work. Crisis averted… for now.
It’s not that I have a problem telling them I’m dating someone.
They knew about Clay and that we broke up (I didn’t give them details, just that we had).
The thing is that Bailey and I aren’t exactly dating, and I can’t imagine the school board and their parents would appreciate if I gave them this version of the birds and the bees, so right now, it’s easier to say nothing at all.
I decide to message Bailey over lunch. Maybe I’ll have a better chance of him responding than of him initiating; he is kind of shy anyway.
Palmer: Man, these kids are ca-razy today!
Palmer: Hope you’re having a good day. Can’t wait to talk with you later ?
I reread then delete the most recent text I typed out.
It seems a little desperate, and I don’t want that.
My ho phase is supposed to be about me getting laid and having good orgasms, not catching feelings for unavailable men and bringing emotions into any of it.
After tucking my phone away in my desk, I leave it there for the remainder of the day.
Only once all the kids have left and my contract time is up for the day do I take my phone out and unlock it.
Zero new messages.
Even though I had told myself that might happen, disappointment settles quickly into my body.
I had somehow convinced myself that my watch just wasn’t getting any messages or wasn’t talking with my phone, but when I checked my phone, there would be message after message from Bailey.
I know he doesn’t have to message me. He’s honestly probably busy!
But I had just kind of really hoped he would find some time to text me.
It’d be nice to know that I’m on his mind even a fraction of how much the man is on mine.
As the afternoon falls into evening, I do my best to stay distracted.
Despite having a dishwasher, I handwash my dishes, and not just the ones that are dirty, reasoning with myself that all dishes can use a good scrubbing every so often.
Mouse and I play fetch for so long that it ends up being me chasing the rope that I toss across the lawn for her, and she watches me from the shade of the patio.