This is Hawkward (Tuft Swallow)

1. Callie

Callie

TUESDAY AUGUST 12TH

“ S hit, shit, shit!” I yell from the top of the desk. “My jitter glitter!”

I drop the paper lantern I’m trying to hang from the ceiling and climb down. I am this close to being finished with my classroom decorating, so of course I knock over a recycled butter tub full of confetti (because I would never be sadistic enough to give actual glitter to a bunch of six-year-olds) with my stupid foot.

“Are you okay? I heard swearing.” A friendly looking younger woman rushes in.

“I promise I won’t swear in front of the kids,” I offer, mostly meaning it. But I can’t fully commit to anything because I’m staring at a floor full of colorful metallic stars and moons that need to be cleaned up. It looks like a herd of incontinent unicorns just stampeded through. I immediately drop to all fours and start gathering up handfuls to put back in the tub. “I’m never going to be ready before they get here,” I moan. It’s Back to School Night, and considering it’s my first year teaching in this town, I was hoping to make a better impression.

“Don’t worry!” the woman says. “I have the solution!” She runs off before I can even ask her name.

“Cheese and rice, this furniture is so tiny,” I mutter as I try to gather the confetti that’s under the little desk. I’m so focused on my task that I don’t even realize my ass is completely up in the air until I hear the woman come back into the room. Sorry, kind stranger, but you’re going to have to deal with my backside for a few minutes.

“First graders are so much smaller than middle schoolers,” I remark to her. “I’m not used to it.”

A decidedly masculine throat clears and I realize either the teacher offering to help me smoked a pack of cigarettes after she left, or there is a random man staring at my rump.

Please don’t be a student’s dad, please don’t be a student’s dad…

I jolt up, hitting the back of my head on the desk. “Son of a bitch!” I rub the spot on my scalp and stand to see my new visitor. “I promise I won’t swear in front…” my voice trails off while I drink in this tall glass of water. His eyes are a deep, soulful brown, and the scruff of his face matches the thick, dark hair that he’s running his fingers through. He’s wearing the most god awful baggy gray sweatsuit I’ve ever seen, but even that doesn’t detract from his hotness.

Please don’t be a student’s dad, please don’t be a student’s dad…

He seems to evaluate me as well, but we’re interrupted before I can say anything.

“Ta-da! I have one of those desktop vacuums—oh hey, Coach!”

“Lana,” he nods. “Good to see you. Is, uh, everything okay in here?”

“We’re good,” I assure him. “Just a minor jitter glitter situation.”

I’m waiting for him to ask what jitter glitter is, but he just nods his head and leaves the room.

“Oh my god,” Lana looks at me conspiratorially. “He is so beautiful, I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.” I pick up on her Southern accent now, I wonder where she’s from originally?

“He definitely catches the eye, doesn’t he?”

“Girl, he catches both eyes, the heart, and all the brain cells. I’m Lana Fowler, by the way. I teach art.”

“Callie,” I smile and shake her hand. “So nice to meet you, Lana.”

“You go back to hanging that lantern and I’ll use this genius invention to clean up the confetti. It’ll suck it all up and then I can dump it back in the tub for you, good as new.”

“Thank you so much! Are you sure you don’t need to get back to your classroom, though?”

She snorts. “For the three high schoolers that actually come to Back to School Night? No, ma’am. The younger kids won’t hit my room until a little later.”

I laugh and climb back on the desk while she crawls around, the tiny handheld vacuum buzzing away.

“So you’re filling in for Amy, then?” she asks as we work.

“Yeah, I guess she’s taking the year off to stay home with her baby,” I answer. “I think it’s nice that she’s able to do that. And it worked out well for me since I wasn’t sure I’d find a teaching job in a smaller town like this.”

“Oh, someone can always find something for you to do around here. Where are you from?”

“Everywhere,” I grin. “I’ve been moving around since I was a kid. No better way to experience the world than by going new places, no better way to experience new places than by living there.”

“And how’s your experience been here so far?”

“It’s been a blast. Everyone here has really been welcoming. I joined the cornhole team and the knitting group at Mrs. Woodcock’s, which kept me busy over the summer. But I’m definitely looking forward to get back to teaching.”

“Well, if you need anything else to do, you should go jump on Coach Sexypants. He’s new this year, too.”

My cheeks heat a little. He’s easy on the eyes, and judging by how his clothes fit, he doesn’t have a woman in his life. But even so…

“Well, as lovely as that sounds, I think it’s a bad idea to dip your pen in the company ink.”

Lana chuckles. “Honey, he’d be worth it. I’m spoken for myself or I’d be all up in that sweatsuit.”

That has me laughing out loud.

She stands and brushes her hands down her pants. “The floor is good as new.”

“Fantastic!” She pours the vacuum contents into the butter tub and, true to her word, Crisis: Jitter Glitter has been fully contained. “Thank you so much, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Well, I’m always in the art room for any other sparkle emergencies.” Lana gives me a warm smile.

“Attention: Eagle View teachers! The doors will open to students and their families in five minutes, so please make sure your classrooms are ready!” The announcement over the PA system sends my pulse rising and I glance around the room for anything that might be wrong.

Paper chains and paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling? Check.

Welcome packets at each seat? Check.

Story circle pillows stacked neatly by the book nook? Check.

There’s a gentle touch on my forearm, and I glance to see Lana smiling at me with reassurance. “You’re going to do great. Just remember, they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“I’ve never worked with kids this young before,” I confess. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Honey, not possible. Trust me. Now I’ve got to get goin’ in case some of my students actually show up, but you holler if you need anything.”

A little relief flows through me, and I gather my courage. I’ve got this!

Once Lana leaves, I walk around the room a final time, moving bins out of place and putting them back in order just so I have something to do with my nervous energy. That’s when I hear the first tiny voice from down the hall getting louder before it finally comes through the door.

“…and I don’t know how Gammy could ever know Santa Claus because we’re not supposed to see him and OH! Is that a hamster?” The little girl with long, stick straight, black hair gasps and runs over to the hamster cage by the bulletin board where I’ve hung a Classroom Chores chart. Her parents trail behind, both looking exhausted.

“That is a hamster.” I walk over and crouch next to her. “His name is Herman, and he’s going to hang out with us this year.”

“My mommy and daddy say I can’t have a pet until I’m older because they’re hard work to take care of.”

“Well, that’s tru?—”

“But I don’t think a hamster would be hard because they’re so small. My name is Annika. Do you think hamsters are hard to take care of? What is that? Is that a big hamster on your desk?”

I wait to make sure she’s done talking and follow her pointer finger to the picture on my desk.

I offer a big smile. “That’s actually my pet ferret. His name is Fettuccini.”

“Fettuccini?” she asks in disbelief. “Like the psghetti?”

“The very same.”

Before Annika can continue her stream of consciousness, a groan sounds from the front door. “Chore chart? No!” I turn to see two boys, one with black cornrows and a neon yellow soccer shirt, the other with a shock of short, red curls and neon yellow knee socks. Both of them have their arms over the others’ shoulders and they’re walking in sync towards the bulletin board.

I was actually told about these two in advance. The kindergarten teacher had mentioned the joined-at-the-hip thing but said they’re both quiet and have a really sweet friendship. “You must be James and Oliver! Welcome to first grade! Don’t worry too much about the chores, I promise they’re not tough.”

James and Oliver’s parents immediately start commenting on the room and showing them other things to distract from the chores. Watching them take time with the boys and interact with them, it hits me how different this is from my middle school kids. None of them are grilling me about homework or cell phone policy. It’s so lovely, in the best possible way.

I decide to flop down on a giant beanbag in the book nook so that I’m on the same level as the kids, and hopefully that makes them feel better about coming up to talk with me. As students and parents mill in and out, talking to me about Fettuccini, jitter glitter, Herman the Hamster, and even the chore chart, I think I’m having the greatest Back to School night I’ve ever had.

I wish you could see this, Dad . These kids are so amazing. This year is going to be one of the good ones.