Lacquered Tattoo

Chapter Ten

Warm steam plays around my vision.

This is my third cup of coffee for the day, and I still feel as if I’m not fully awake. Wait until the caffeine kicks in at the worst possible timing. I’d better be ready for not being able to sleep later at night. Why is it so hard to quit coffee?

“Hey.”

A hand waves in front of my face and I blushed at the realization that it wasn’t the first time that the person had tried to catch my attention.

“Thought you drifted off to a daydream right there for a second,” the woman teases, adjusting her glasses and pulling the binder she was holding closer to her chest.

I was momentarily stunned by her fiery bright red locks as reflected the sun rays from the window. I was as blinded by her bright smile just as well.

“I’m Amanda. The guidance counselor. My office is right across the hall from this staff room.”

We shook hands and I almost awkwardly stood up from behind my desk.

There were nine other desks laid out in a square in the room. All of them were empty except mine, of course, and it was quite a relief. I was actually avoiding introductions until this coming Saturday, during the first staff meeting.

Then I’d turn the friendly switch on.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

I gave Ms. Congeniality my sweetest smile.

“Hi, I’m Cass.”

She put her hand out and I shook it, feeling its warmth. Amanda seems nice. It was just not the right time. She deserves to meet the better me than this distracted one who almost directly quote one of Bukowski’s vulgar phrases to her third graders.

I have to watch my words more carefully. This is so unlike the college class I was teaching literature before.

Amanda nodded her head. “Yes, the new English teacher. Welcome to Rose Montessori. It was very nice to meet you. I hope your day was going well so far?”

The hours were grueling but nothing I haven’t experienced before in my old university. The students were much more polite and disciplined, which could be because they actually see me as a teacher who is older than them and is actually a grown-up than a teacher who they’re friends with and who they can freely joke around and debate with especially since she’s a year or a couple younger than half her class.

“It was… fine,” I lied.

She snorted but oddly enough, I wasn’t offended. The sound actually bought a small smile to my lips.

“You can be honest with me, Cass. My first day I had to speak to a ten-year-old kid because of a joke she said during Health class.”

How intriguing. I can’t help but ask, “What did she say?”

“’What is the difference between the peanut butter and jam?’”

I’m confused. Obviously, it shows because a glint appeared in Amanda’s eyes.

I can see why she’s the guidance counselor. Already, she had made me feel at ease through my still hazed mind and I have to admit, her chatting with me might just be what I need before I go back to the classroom for the last period.

Whether she meant to or not, our conversation was gradually untying the knot in my stomach.

I shrugged my shoulders. Curse my buffering brain for getting the context late. As usual.

The wide smile she had been holding finally escaped. “Don’t even ask what the answer is. I’m still disgusted. Just one thing: this happened in a reproductive health class.”

As if that would give me enough clue. “So… It was supposed to be…”

Amanda prodded me with her eyes.

Problem is, it hadn’t hit me yet.

I took a wild guess. “A dirty joke?”

“What is?”

Both of us turned pour heads as a man maybe in his early thirties or late twenties enter through the opened staff room door, making my face flush red with his question.

He walked directly towards us nodding towards Amanda, before turning his attention to me.

“Hey, Matt,” Amanda greeted with a soft voice. I looked to see her huge green eyes sparkle just a little bit more than when we were talking to each other.

Matt’s eyes roamed me for a few seconds. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, uhm,” Amanda stuttered. Cole moved over to the desk on my right and placed the books and papers he was carrying on top of it.

“My seatmate, apparently,” he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “So, you’re Danica’s replacement.”

I nodded my affirmation. “Cass,” I tell him, introducing myself since Amanda has become tongue tied.

Well, I get it. He’s good-looking. The glasses add to the charm, if you ask me. He’s definitely someone whom a lot of people develops a crush on.

A few other teachers arrived at the room. It’s my cue to leave. Not just because I can already feel the anxiety rising up but because if they’re done with their classes, then that must mean it’s time for mine and my break time’s over.

I grabbed the things that I needed and pushed my chair back. Before I reach the door, however, Amanda spoke in a loud voice, “Hey, everyone. I’d like you to meet the new English teacher, Cass.”

I felt their eyes on me even before I turned around. I managed a small wave as I scanned the room of unfamiliar faces. Now it was me who was speechless. “Nice to meet you all, but I have to go now. I have a class,” I finally explained.

“Tell you what, we could all get acquainted this Saturday,” Matt says, striding towards me. “After the meeting. Everybody’s heading to Allister’s. You should join us.”

Time is ticking and I really need to get going.

“Maybe, you could tell me that dirty joke of yours,” Matt prodded.

I don’t have the luxury to engage further. I might be already late. So, without giving it much thought, I replied, “Sure.”

Matt looked even more handsome with his bright white teeth showing when he smiled at me. “See you, then.”

Walking briskly and avoiding the rush of students and teachers alike walking through the hallway, I headed to my next class with barely a minute to spare.

In the middle of the week, I got to know more of my colleagues and my students. I hadn’t realized I was good with names until I had chosen to become a teacher and the task of knowing them by both their face and names alike had never been a difficult task for me.

            Having said that, although it doesn’t really come with the job, I also always make it a point to know my students personally better I believe that by doing so, I am able to understand them better thus, teaching them more effectively.

            It was the last period when I was sitting on my chair waiting for my students to finish their post-test when the door opened, and a blonde girl walked in.

            “Excuse me, dear,” I addressed her, putting down my assessment book to pay more attention to her. “May I help you?”

            The girl raised her head up and I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

            Her eyes, though free of tears and neither red nor puffy from crying, held such weight in them that just screams devastation.

            She’s a pretty girl. Light toned, as fair as the color of her short hair. Petite but not alarmingly thin. Such features that contrast her mournful gaze.

            I remember her now. She’s one of the quiet ones who always almost keep to themselves.

            When I asked the class to introduce themselves on the first day, everyone was enthusiastic and excited. I noticed that even the calm ones were chatting lively with the loud children that was why it wasn’t hard to not notice the girl who sat at the last row in the corner mostly staring ahead or doodling on her notebook.

            Not when everyone around her were pulsing with energy and she’s the only one who was reserved.

            Brenda… Brenna… Ber… Bernice.

            That’s it. That’s her name.

            “Are you alright, Bernice?”

            She seemed surprised that I know her name, her eyes widening.

            When she didn’t respond, I tried asking her again. “Why are you late? Is there something the matter?”

            Bernice shook her head no, then she walked towards her seat and brought her pad paper and pen out of her gray backpack. She stared at me, or so I thought, as I tried to catch her eyes, then she started writing and I realized that she was reading my instructions at the whiteboard.

            It didn’t take long for the class to finish and before she could slip out and vanish along with the rest of her classmates, I made my way down the platform and gently called her.