7. Keith
KEITH
“I see we’re short two students, so I’m going to give them about five minutes before we start. In the meantime, if you want to continue working on your projects or read the lesson plan for today, feel free to do so.”
While it wasn’t unusual to have a few dropouts from the first class, I sincerely hoped that the pair at the back workstations hadn’t decided the workshop wasn’t for them. Although it was too soon to pick favorites, those two were definitely high on the list.
I hadn’t thought much of my first walkthrough with either of them beyond confirming that the Barbie one definitely was intentional about her enrollment in my class, but ever since I’d caught that errant chisel, my mind kept going back to that moment of adrenaline.
I knew it was unwise to try to catch a pointy thing mid-flight, but it had been instinct more than anything else. That instinct had brought me face-to-face with a woman who I’d only barely talked to, and my student at that.
Except, in that split second where we were in such close proximity, my mind hadn’t cared that she was a student. No, it had clocked those wide eyes of hers, shining bright like uncut gems of amber. I hadn’t noticed them before, but in that moment, it was like I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
Her rounded face had been so cute in its expression of surprise, then horror, then finally what I liked to think was a tiny bit of admiration. But maybe that was just my ego talking, because I was impressed with myself for catching the flying tool without hurting myself.
So yeah, maybe she had been on my mind through the night, and maybe I had been thinking of witty, woody things to say to her to engage in a pleasant conversation again, but clearly that was a moot point because she had left.
Bummer. The first time I actually noticed a woman in an interested way and now she was gone. I could use the class sign-up sheet to figure out who she was, but that felt like a huge abuse of my power, so I let it go.
Some things simply weren’t meant to be.
At least, that was what I thought until someone cleared their throat behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I saw none other than Miss Barbie (I really needed to learn everyone’s name) standing at the front entrance of the workshop.
“Good afternoon,” she said simply before stepping to the side rather dramatically. Then I realized that what we were witnessing was none other than a classic reveal.
And what a reveal it was, because behind her was the woman I had been hoping would arrive.
Gone was the downcast expression. The woman looked straight ahead with those gorgeous, amber eyes of hers.
There was something about the way she squared her shoulders and held her head high that captivated me, like I was watching royalty enter my space.
I had thought that she was pretty before but seeing her practically glowing with confidence had me that much more intrigued.
“Sorry, we were running late,” she said.
Her voice was still musical, but it now had a strength to it that hadn’t been present.
I really needed to stop noticing all these things, because my admiring was turning into an interest that wasn’t entirely professional.
She was my student, and I needed to keep that in mind. “Traffic, you know?”
I nodded, trying to remember the last time I had felt so comfortable in my own skin as she clearly did. Had I ever? As far as I could recall, I’d always been in a body that was a little too klutzy and took up a little too much space unless there was a block of wood in my hands.
“Yes, the exits here can get quite congested when a lot of students go to lunch,” I said, proud that I sounded unfazed. Because I should be unfazed.
She was a student!
An adult student, yes, but a student, nonetheless. I’d been called a lot of things in my life, but I wasn’t going to ever give anyone valid grounds to call me a creep.
“If you two wouldn’t mind heading to your workstations, we can get started.”
She flushed slightly, and God, the petal-pink color looked so lovely as it spread over her cherubic cheeks. It was only then that I realized she was wearing mascara and eyeliner, the ends winged out to emphasize the almond shape of her eyes.
“Okay, so although some of you have read the lesson plan laid out on your tables, I’ll go over it very quickly.
We’re going to spend the first hour working on your projects, and then the next forty-five minutes I’ll introduce you to some power tools and their uses.
None of the big machines now, and I’m sure at least a handful of you already have experience with a few of these, but believe me, there is a method to the madness.
After that, another forty-five minutes of me going to each workstation and talking over what power tools you might need and coming up with a plan of attack for the next stage of your projects. ”
A hand flew up in the back and I realized it was the fashionista. “Yes, uh…”
“Amanda,” she said quickly before barreling right into her question. I liked that. Direct. “What if we finish our project early?”
My first instinct was to dismiss the idea, because it was way too soon for that, but I caught myself and had to remind that part of me that different people worked at different rates.
How many times in high school had my own shop teacher told me it was impossible for me to be done with an assignment only for me to show him something fully realized?
“If you’re already at that point, I’d be happy to go over any improvements you can make to enhance it or even start an entirely new project.”
“Okay, cool!” She dutifully began pulling her project out from the crate under the desk where I had students store their things.
Although the space was used by an actual vocational program on four days of the week, they had their own lockers to the side where they stored their things, so it worked out perfectly for my class.
“All right, if anyone has any questions or wants guidance on your projects, just raise your hands. Let’s start off this first hour with lots of progress!”
A few more hands went up, and I had to admit, I was disappointed when the woman whose name I really needed to remember didn’t raise hers. Oh well. I would have to find a way to naturally go over to her. No big deal, since I was her teacher and did need to check in on her.
As much as I wanted to bask in her new glow, I prioritized my students that were requesting help first.
But that only took perhaps half an hour or so, which allowed me to begin my rounds. And this time, I started in the back. Sure, maybe for selfish reasons, but I told myself it was only fair I started there since I started at the front in the previous class.
Not that anyone cared, of course.
“How are things going over here?” I asked as I approached her workstation, not wanting to startle her like I had before, even if her expression had been so damn cute. But this time, she was cool as a cucumber as she looked up at me, her red lips upturning crookedly at the corner.
“Good and dandy!” she said, and now that her voice was louder, I was able to detect the slightest bit of an accent to her melodic voice that I hadn’t noticed before.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it sounded like it might be a little bit of Yonkers, or maybe New Jersey, or even Italian?
My own voice was boringly New Englander, so I couldn’t help but notice the difference.
“As you see, I am now much more safety compliant.”
With that, she took a step back and spread her arms out, doing a playful little circle before posing for me. I had to admit, I was slightly distracted by the way her jeans clung to her curves and even her simple Henley was tight to her figure.
I know it’s been a while, the little voice in my head said, but let’s keep this respectful. You’ve interacted with plenty of beautiful women before.
When I didn’t say anything for a moment, she affixed me with a quizzical look that I shouldn’t have liked as much as I did.
“You told me I needed to wear some tighter-fitting clothes because my loose ones were a safety hazard, remember?” she said, and some of that confidence dimmed a little, which instantly made me feel terrible.
I didn’t want my slow brain and lack of caffeine to diminish someone who was so clearly feeling themselves.
It was nice to be around someone who liked themselves.
At least as long as they weren’t a dick about it.
“And that it’s safer if my hair is up? You know, with the whole scalping thing. ”
She gestured to her hair. It was done up in a storm of tight and shining curls that had been expertly twisted into a claw clip. It was classy, and much like everything else I was noticing about the woman, distracting.
But I needed to get my mind off the unusual level of interest I was feeling. So, I focused on scalping. I probably thought about scalping way too much for the average human person, and hearing my student echo my sentiments about it confirmed it. Woodworking really did give a person some odd quirks.
“You look gr—I mean, you did a great job. You definitely won’t have to worry about anything getting caught.
In a lathe or power drill.” I winced at my awkwardness, but if the woman noticed it, she didn’t mention it.
Communication between us the previous lesson had been so smooth and easy, but now I felt like I was stuttering over myself.
How embarrassing. I was too old for that.
“Good. I can return home with my parents content that their daughter will not succumb to various spinning devices during my pursuit of education.”
I grinned despite my nerves, happy at the chance to banter back and forth again. “From what my own mother tells me, it’s quite the relief to her soul.”