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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1473452-Mr-Goslyn
by Chuck
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Political · #1473452
This is the first part of a book that I'm working on about a Republican teacher
Potatoes in the… Orchard
“Okay you all, that's two points a question, and three points for number seventeen to make thirty-two... no, thirty-five points total. Take your number, divide by thirty five and that's your score. Questions on the movie?” As usual, Kelly's question was greeted by silence. After two years, he started to wonder if he was just that good, or nobody really cared enough to ask. “No questions... perfect. Tonight,” the bell interrupts him mid-speech, but he continues, raising his voice to match the untimely annoyance, “chapters thirty two through thirty five, pages 239 through 278. Have them for tomorrow people.” As everybody scurried for the door, Mr. Goslyn tried to guess how many would come in tomorrow and claim not to have heard the last minute instructions. On his particularly good days, he would even venture a guess to the identity of such culprits.

Today however, Kelly just stared into the vibrant white stars in the sea of blue, waving above his head. He was perhaps the last remaining dinosaurs in the school system requiring silent in respect of Ole Glory. He chuckled in spite of himself, as he was alas only twenty eight. The sixth period shuffle was ending, and the remaining students in the halls were hurriedly on their way away from their two month old true loves and towards geography, astronomy, or physiology, among others. His silence was broken by Mary Ellen, a slightly plump but elegant economics teacher. “Kelly?” She called as if she had been doing so for quite some time, and when he turned around, she was indeed standing right in front of his desk.

“Yes ma'am... what can we do for you this soggy, saturated, afternoon?” He asked without really wanting an answer. Mary Ellen was by far the most arrogant and persnickety of his colleagues, probably here to complain about some injustice she witnessed, or her strife of the day.

“Do you know what I saw this morning?” Without waiting for an answer she continued, “I saw an old veteran standing on the side of the road, holding a sign that said, will work for food,” she annunciated each syllable individually, perhaps to drive the point home. “I just cannot believe what's happening to this country Kelly!” she exclaimed in her usually boisterous tone.

“And what exactly is happening Mary Ellen?” he asked standing.

“Kelly, get real, we're going to hell in a hand basket,” she continued as Kelly started for the department office, where he had papers to grade and cold coffee awaiting him.

Walking down the hallway, Mary Ellen in toe, he stopped, “You know, have you ever thought that maybe he isn't really a vet, and maybe he's got a very nice home in the suburbs funded by welfare and folks like you showering money on him morning and afternoon? Or, just maybe, he's an out of work alchie that drinks every dime he gets, or maybe...” he stopped. “Anyways, I have to get 47 quizzes on Little Big Horn graded before tomorrow... Can this wait?” he asked, pushing the office door open before hearing the answer.

As he sat at his desk, he could feel her eyes watching him. The fact that she sat directly across from him didn't help his attention. “Yes dear, what is it now?” he asked without looking up.

“Kelly! This is serious!”

“Look, what do you want to do, invite him to dinner? I've got plans tonight, and they don't consist of going out to dinner with a drunken welfare recipient.” He thought he was finished, but decided to add one more round of common sense, “Besides we're already paying his expenses, food stamps, subsidized housing, and if he was ever in prison, his cable and gym membership too!” He sighed loudly, then looked up briefly to find her starring at him. “What now?”

“You? With plans? Ha. And do those plans include Walter and Fox News?” she smirked while saying it.

“No,” he remarked mockingly, “I happen to be going to meet somebody tonight... And there's nothing wrong with spending time with your dog, teaching him the finer points of conservatism Mary Ellen...” he paused. “Just makes him smarter than most of the staff in this school,” shooting a glance at her “Protect the Whales” poster.

As the seventh period bell rang, he just finished correcting his twelfth quiz on Custer's Last Stand. With that, thinking of the other thirty-five to go, he started back to his own class, which now happened to be American Government. As he arrived, he made his way to his desk, already flooded with kids waiting for him. “Yes ma'am? What's up?” he asked, sitting his stack of papers down.

“I need to see you for a sec Mr. G,” she said quiet enough so only he could hear her.

“Can't it wait 'til after class hon?” he asked, ready to get on with the lesson at the sound of the bell.

There was no response, just a shake of the head indicating that it couldn't, and with that, Laura returned to her seat, resting her head on the desk. Kelly sighed, but continued, “Yes, what do you need Kevin?”

He was surely here to ask why the grade on his midterm report was so low. He was. “Not now, go sit, we're almost ready to start class. Come after school or before if you'd like to talk about that,” he responded curtly as the boy should certainly have known why it was so low. The bell rang, and with that Kelly sprang up to start class. “Alright everybody, lets get out your stuff from last night, eh? And umm... give me a minute. Why don't you discuss... American relations with France. You start Jo.”

He walked slowly past the desks on the left side of the room and knocked twice on Laura's desk as he went by, clearly enough a signal for her to follow in toe. In fact, she sprang up so fast, she bumped into Billy's desk and then into Kelly, scrambling to get outside without incident. Once outside, he said nothing, but just looked on as tears flowed down from her eyes. “Laura, what’s... what's wrong?” he stumbled on his own words, watching her eyes puff and cheeks become wet.

“Mr... Mr. G?” she started as he nudged her shoulder to walk with him. Once down the hall, she started again, “Mr. G...” There was a long silence before she continued. “I... I don't know what to do!” she exclaimed, tears now pouring out of her eyes.

“About what hon?” Kelly knew Laura well, perhaps the best of all his kids, and knew her not to be emotional often. Only once, he recalled, had she even been upset, in the now four months they saw each other daily. “Are you alright?” he asked, not sure what to say.

“No... I'm... I'm... I'm...” She couldn't finish without breaking up in tears and crying. They continued walking with only the sound of their footsteps and her desperate cries.

After a full five minutes, he pulled her aside, and told her to wait as he walked into the social studies office. He returned within seconds, trailing behind him was Mr. Kilnoch, who Laura assumed to be watching the class until they returned. They exchanged words and Kelly was back within another thirty seconds. “Okay, come with me,” Kelly walked with her into the department conference room and shut the door behind them. Never before had Kelly left class like this, but he was sure that they wouldn't mind watching a movie on the Constitution. That was especially true today since there was a quiz scheduled , meaning they would get a whole extra weekend to study... not that Kelly was foolish enough to believe that anybody would.

As he sat down, Laura stood trembling. “You can sit,” he said, even offering her a chair. Sitting Kelly appeared shorter than he already was. He was 5'7”, with a slight tummy, and today wore a green sweater with off-white trousers. He looked across the table at still standing Laura. Slowly, she took the chair, still shaking. “Hon, what's wrong?” he asked again. Kelly was known by staff and students as the teacher who wasn't afflicted by the politically correct bug, a quality that he, sometimes alone, cherished.

This, however, was not one of those times. Laura seemed more at ease, and she of all of his students liked the folksy and caring ways of the hardened Republican. She started again, mustering all of her courage to finally let it out. “Teach, I've... I've... I've... I'm pregnant,” she blurted. Kelly, closed his eyes, then opened them back up, wondering if he'd imagined her last sentence.

“You're... pregnant?” he asked, still unbelieving.

“Yes, yes... I don't know how... Well, I do, but... Oh my God, I'm pregggnant!” she cried, banging on the table, her head hidden under her arms.

“How did you find out hon?” Kelly asked, very uncomfortable with the position his prodigal student has now put him in. He wondered what his role as an educator should be. He was new to teaching and has never been put into this position anymore. On one hand, he was required to report instances of abuse, suicidal thoughts, and the alike, but yet... Kelly believed firmly in the relationship that teachers share with their students, and of course, the trust within it.

Before she answered, Kelly decided that this was a problem that could be dealt with; in-house so to speak, something that Laura had to deal with herself on her own timetable, though he would certainly give all the support that he could muster. “Well,” she started, “I took a test right before class because I've been,” she stopped. “I've been, feeling yucky, and somebody told me...” she began to cry, tears falling in buckets.

Watching her, he extended his hand across the table, an action that seemed to be very well received by the girl. Immediately she grasped his hand in both of hers, squeezing tighter than he thought somebody of her petite size ever could. Just as she grasped onto him, the bell rang, alas releasing the 1100 munchkins into the halls, finally free. “Laura...” he started, but he stopped in mid-thought.

With that, she seemed to snap to attention, pulling herself out of her own world back into reality and stood up, “I'm so sorry,” she said contritely and moved for the door.

Kelly looked into her eyes, and summoned her back, “Wait, Laura. Where are you going?”

She looked back innocently, “I... I don't know,” and with that, she walked out the door and into the bustling hallway.






Julie sat, arms folded, cradling her book within them, in front of the fire at Lenora’s Coffee House. She always picked the table closest to both the fire and the door, enjoying the frigid breeze that was certain to flee inside. While most people sipping on their latte tried to recapture the last seconds of their dreams or looked to their day ahead, Julie just sat, starring into pages of lies and wondering who could write such drivel.

“More coffee, hun?” Irene asked with a smile.

Julie shook her head without looking up. “One of those days, eh?” Irene patted Julie’s shoulder and continued, “It’s alright sweetheart, one of these days…” she said, her voice trailing with more empathy than sympathy. This time, Julie looked right into the waitress’s eyes and mustered a soft smile and a nod before returning to her book. Irene knew, she thought. No need to explain.

At forty-three, she knew that she was no longer considered prime real estate, but hey, she wasn’t an old fixer upper yet, either. Still, she was twice the age of the flimsy sculpturettes going for top dollar at the local auction houses. For a time, she used to delight in the fact that she couldn’t be bought. After six long years since he left, however, she wondered what she might fetch in the free market. Bitterly, she reminisced about the times they shared--- the walks that they had taken, the movies that they had watched, the laundry that they had washed. Pushing her thoughts aside, she sat her book between the stacks of pre-packaged apricot and grape jellies, standing while rifling through her purse to find a dollar for Irene.

“Thanks sweetie,” she beckoned from across the room, smiling and throwing one hand in the air. Julie again only smiled and nodded, moving towards the door, careful not to spill her untouched coffee.

“Excuse me,” she said, pushing past a man in a brown sports suit, cleverly topped with a hat that could very well have been circa 1960 from Joe Friday himself.

Her eyes met his carefully as he nodded and allowed for an almost inaudible “Sorry,” to escape his lips. She kept moving towards the door, but her gaze stayed on the hat that seemed so out of place in a coffeehouse that was normally reserved for upper echelon society.

“Sweetie,” rang through her ears just as she had turned her eyes to match her direction, triggering a bright smile in her so far, so dim morning.

“Huh?” she asked, spinning around, coffee spurting out of the small drinking spout in her Styrofoam cup right onto Irene’s stark white blouse. “Ohmigod!”she scrambled, searching for even the most elementary vocabulary. “I am soooo sorry Irene. I mean… well, I thought, well. I,” Julie stumbled; still embarrassed at her excitement over what probably was a very tenured and very married day trader.

Irene lent her hand to Julie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she said, her eyes absolving Julie from her mishap. “You forgot your book,” her swollen, aged hands clutched the Harlequin, offering it back to her most regular customer.

Julie shook her head, “Nah. I don’t want it anymore. It’s not,” she paused, “me. I left it for somebody else---“

“To enjoy,” Irene finished for her, then smiled, turning back to retrieve four almond croissants.

“Yeah… enjoy,” Julie said to herself, raising her eyebrows as she turned towards the door.

         On this particular drizzly Tuesday afternoon, Julie returned home at about 1:30, still self-conscious after her morning encounter. She lived on the outskirts of the bustling metropolis of Denver in a loft above a local pizza parlor. It was simple enough with only three rooms, but there was more than ample room for all of the necessities of life in the mountains. Annette, the owner of the bistro below, lived right across the street in a small raised ranch overlooking Montauge Park.

“What a fool!” she exploded, finally in the door after battling with her keys. She slammed the door shut and threw her purse across the counter, knocking over the vase of lilies. Watching the water spread from the now broken glass onto the yellowed linoleum countertop, Julie tried to move for paper towels, but couldn’t and instead, just shrieked. After a moment spent composing herself, she ran out the door and down the stairs into the kitchen of Carlina’s Restaurante.

“Annette!” She blubbered, sobbing softly, leaning herself softly against the back counter and sliding down into the corner.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” The voice came well before the figure. Making her way through the maze of her kitchen was Annette, a smallish woman who looked good for sixty-one. She bent down, taking Julie’s arm, tugging at it gently. “C’mon girl, let’s go,” she prodded at Julie again, looking into her brown dilated puppy eyes.
With a soft nod, Julie allowed Annette to lead her to a booth next to the cash register, sitting her down. “Be right back,” she said smiling.

“Gaby, get that pizza in the oven! Half olives, half sausage!” Annette bellowed from behind the curtain that divided restaurant from kitchen.

“Sorry about that hun,” Annette said. “Scoot,” she continued, motioning Julie over and sitting down next to her, a bowl of black olives in hand. “Eat baby,” she nodded in agreement with her own statement.

Julie just looked up and shook her head slowly. “Unt-unh,” she mumbled, burying her head in her arms on top of the table.

Annette set the olives down and turned, pulling gently on Julie’s presently unkempt sandy ponytail.
“Ehhhnehhh,” Julie whimpered, her lower lip setting itself apart from its top counterpart.

“Come on, what’s up?”

“I’m gonna die,” Julie howled.

“Of course you are,” Annette tried to keep from laughing.

“Alone!”

“Awww, now sweetie,” she paused. “You know that’s not going to happen. There are plenty of cherries on the tree… tomatoes on the vine… potatoes in,” she stopped again.

“In the orchard?” Julie offered, starting to smile, not entirely sure where potatoes grow.

Annette giggled and plucked an olive from the bowl, sticking it under Julie’s bottom lip. “Mmhmm,” she agreed. Watching Julie nuzzle the olive in her mouth, Annette rose, “C’mon sweetheart, toss on an apron,” she said pausing. “Maybe it’ll take your mind off of things,” she offered, walking towards the kitchen through the nineteen-fiftiesque swinging doors.

Julie stood, “I guess,” she responded accompanied with a dull whimper, hoping that Annette was right.

“Take my tables---- one, four, and… eh… eight I think. I’ve gotta run out for a bit,” Annette said.

Julie just smiled. As she walked back out, apron and all, she went to table number one, “More Sprite sweetie?” she asked the little boy nibbling tentatively on the corner of the deep brown, if not black crust.

He nodded in the affirmative, but his mother’s voice was overriding, “No!” Julie wasn’t sure whether it was directed to the boy or her.

“But I wan’ another glass Mommmy!” he said banging his tiny palms on the red tabletop.

“He’ll have a water,” the mother stated. “And me,” she paused in thought, “one more Bud,” she said tipping back the bottle already in her hand before placing it on the table with a thud.

“You know, refills on sodas are free,” Julie said. “Still want only water?”

“Pleeas---”

“Good job Lady.” the mother said. “You’re gonna have him bouncin’ off the damn walls! No. I said water!” she repeated. Again, Julie wasn’t sure whether she was talking to her or the kid, but took the clue and walked away.

“Hi there,” Julie said to table four, sighing in spite of herself.

“Tough day, eh Lady Jane?” the man asked.

Julie tried to feign a smile. “Anything else guys?”

“Nah,” the same man responded, “just the check.”



Kelly rapped his knuckles against the table, turning his head towards the door.

”Hey there,” a voice came.

Kelly looked up with a smile, “Hey!” He turned to meet the voice’s eyes, “Oh. I, eh, thought you were somebody else.” He looked at her another moment, “Eh, I didn’t… well, I mean, eh, I thought,” he paused. “You know what?” he asked standing and turned, walking out the door.

Kelly stood right outside the glass looking in. As he opened the door back up, he was smiling, walking towards the same booth he previously had taken position in, the waitress looking on from the counter. After a moment she returned, “Welcome back,” she offered.

“Well hiya there Miss,” he paused until his eyes stumbled to her nametag. “Eh… Miss,” he paused again, this time tilting his head as far to the right as his neck allowed. “Julia?” he guessed, allowing his neck to return back to place.

“Julie,” she said, able to control her giggles until she looked down at her up-side-down nametag. “Ohhmigawd. Today,” she sighed, her voice trailing.

Kelly smiled, “Was that a growl I detected Miss Julia… eh, Julie you said?” he asked, again tilting his head laughing. “That’s an “e,” eh? Had me fooled.”

Julie smile, looking down and removing the pin, “See?” she said, holding it out.

“Umm,” Kelly paused, and then laughed before making a circular motion with his finger.

To Julie’s embarrassment, it was indeed backwards… again. As she slunk down, Kelly continued, “So about that growl,” Kelly smiled. “What’s wrong ho---“

“Kelly?” he was interrupted.  Both he and the waitress turned around. “Hiii!” a twenty-something girl spouted. “Lidia!” she offered.

“Lidia?” he parroted.

“Your date,” she clarified. “Ally’s friend,” she said.

“Eh, I’ll be back for your drinks after you all,” Julie paused, “get yourselves acquainted,” Julie said, raising an eyebrow out the man she had just met.

“Thanks hun,” he smiled, both the waitress and his date shooting Kelly a glance.

“So you’re Lidia, huh?” he smiled. “Ehh, where are my manners,” he said standing. “Nice to meet you,” sticking out his hand.

She took it with hesitation. “Expecting someone else?”

“Oh no, you’re just…very…”

“Very what?” she asked, still standing.

“Well, pardon my saying this but… very young,” he said, starring into her tiny blue eyes, then following her tiny, but tall body to her red high-heeled pumps. “Sit?” Kelly asked. Lidia nodded softly in response and slid into the booth.

“Start over?” Kelly asked, tilting his head, but allowing his eyes to drift above this blind-date to the lady at the register.

Lidia nodded again, this time smiling and straightening her shoulders, “Deal.”

Soon after the deal was struck, Julie reappeared, “Ready y’all?”

Kelly looked over at Lidia, “Yes?”

“Ehh… yeah… the pizza here’s supposed to be the best.”

Kelly smiled up at Julie and gave a nod before looking back to Lidia and closing the menu.

“Alright guys, eh… what kinda pizza?” Julie looked first at Kelly, and then at the woman across from him.

Lidia shook her head, shrugging “Doesn’t matter to me.”

Kelly sighed, “Ehh--- Surprise us hun,” he said and smiled up at Julie.

“And to drink?”

“Coffee for me,” Kelly said.

Julie nodded, “And you?”

“Ummm, can I have a,” Lidia paused, looking at the back page of the menu. “A cherry-limeade?”

“Surely, be back in a few,” Julie smiled before returning behind the saloon style doors.

“So,” Kelly started.

“So,” Lidia said back giggling, allowing her fingers to dance around the table top in front of her. Kelly smiled at her and then laughed. “What?” she asked, but he just shook his head. “What?” she asked again.

Kelly still just smiled, but when his eyes met hers, Lidia looked sullen and her fingers and hands were stationary. He tilted his head, “What’s wrong hun?”

This time it was Lidia who just shook her head. Kelly reached across the table with his right hand, palm up. Lidia just shook her head, her shoulder length curly brown hair bobbed back and forth before crossing her arms and looking down, “Unt-unh.”

Kelly smiled again, “Aww, pweese?”

“No,” her answer was firm, but her arms unfolded and the corner of her mouth started to crease.

Maybe, Kelly thought, she wan’t as young as she looked. Maybe, Kelly thought, she just looked the part. As they sat, looking into the other’s eyes, Kelly broke the connection, letting his eyes fall downwards to her bright pink pouting lips. They were thin, in perfect similarity with her slender face. At first glance, Kelly thought, his blind date had a striking resemblance to Jennifer Love Hewitt. He let his glance fall further to her strapless top, its color matching her lipstick. Granted, not the top he would’ve chosen for a first date, but he had to admit, it had its allure.

Kelly looked back up into Lidia’s crystal clear blue eyes. “Hey,” he said softly.

Lidia’s hand twitched, “Hmmm?” she asked.

“Wanna get outta here?” Kelly’s words sped from his mouth, straight into the open air and towards the bowl of low-fat butter pats in the center of the table, and when Lidia didn’t respond, he hoped that his words were only a figment of the imagination.

They weren’t.

The table was silent and still, neither knowing what to expect until Lidia’s fingers moved from her lap, one by one to within inches of Kelly’s own. She let her gaze return to Kelly’s eyes and waited a moment before her own widened. She nodded her head, sliding her leg out, allowing it to intertwine with his. Lidia took Kelly’s middle finger between her thumb and forefinger as she slid out of the booth, as if they were giving a tow.

Kelly followed the pull out of the booth and reached for his wallet as he came to his feet. He pulled three ten-dollar bills out and dropped them to the, besides the untouched silverware, still bare table, still attached to his date by finger lock.





Kelly held open the door and exited after Lidia. Once outside and down the cement steps, he turned back to the parlor, “Cute little spot.” Turning back and put his arm around Lidia’s waist and smiled.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they walked.

Kelly turned to her, “I don’t know,” he smiled, “I don’t live around here, remember?” Nevertheless, Kelly walked to the crosswalk, hitting the crossing button, right arm still attached to his date.

She looked over at him and smiled, her heart beating faster than before. When the walk sign lit they started to cross the street, though Lidia stopped in the middle of the crosswalk. “What?” Kelly asked.

She looked at him and continued to walk, but after a few minutes, she asked, “Whatever happened to being ‘too young’?” making imaginary quotation marks with her fingers.

Kelly didn’t respond, but smiled. “You know, you have very active fingers.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Lidia said just as they made it to the curb.

Kelly looked at her and furrowed his brow, “Really? Hmmm.” He paused for a moment to look around. “Oh look, its Montauge Park,” he said pointing to archway identifying, with the help of two spotlights, the woodsy area beyond.

Lidia followed the guidance of Kelly’s arm, but said nothing until Kelly glanced over at her. “Well?” she chirped, starting to smile.

“Well,” he stopped and turned to her, pulling her close, arms wrapped around her back. “You’re---” Kelly stopped again, in truth, not entirely sure what she was.

“I’m… what?”

“You’re,” Kelly struggled with a flood of words entering his head, but settled on, “you.”

Lidia giggled and leaned into his embrace. “Otay.”

“Otay?” Kelly repeated, smiling.

“Mmhmm,” Lidia nodded. “Otay.”

Kelly leaned in towards Lidia, “You’re,” he whispered. “You.”

“Mmhmm, I am,” she scrunched up her nose and rested her head on his shoulder.

Kelly’s arm became numb soon after Lidia found a resting place, but he didn’t move. Instead, Kelly just held her, laying his head onto hers. He looked out into the open park, but it was empty and dark, only lighted by passing headlights. “Hey,” he whispered. Lidia said nothing, but turned to face him, her head tilted. Kelly wanted to tell her that he had to go, that he had quizzes to grade and a lacrosse game to go to in the morning, and besides, he still hadn’t eaten.

But he didn’t. Instead, he looked into her eyes, smiled softly, and moved in. Lidia, however, closed her eyes as she saw Kelly coming, and as he adjusted to kiss her nose, her lips roamed without purpose. As his lips landed on her nose, Lidia opened one eye, “Hey!” she pouted. “That wasn’t nice!”

“Me sowwy,” Kelly giggled and stuck out his tongue.

“Oh, well, as long as you’re sorry,” Lidia said as she pushed closer into Kelly, gently biting his tongue with her front teeth.

Kelly was speechless for once, and even as he instinctively pulled away, she didn’t let go. His eyes drifted back to Lidia’s, and with them, let his lips fall onto hers. Lidia pulled Kelly’s tongue into her mouth further, her teeth clattering against his for the first time. His hands slid through the opening of her jacket and roamed up her back, drawing her closer. “You,” Kelly said between breaths.

“Me?” Lidia questioned after she planted a trio of short wispy kisses first on his lips, then on his nose, finally making her way to his forehead.

“Mmhmm,” Kelly enforced, “You.” It was simple. Of course she was her. Who else would she be? But that didn’t stop Kelly from wondering.

“Something wrong?” Lidia asked, still wiggling in Kelly’s arms.

Kelly shook his head, “Not a thing in the world, Lid.”

“Lid?” she questioned, giggling. “I like it,” she concluded after a moment, snuggling closer. She yawned, “It’s gotta be late, huh?”

Kelly nodded, “Mmhmm,”

“We should do this again,” Lidia said.

“Does this mean that I let you go now?” Kelly asked, smiling.

“Well, unless we plan to scuttle all the way home like this,” she said, still nuzzled into Kelly’s shoulder.

“We should do this again,” Kelly said in agreement with Lidia’s earlier statement.

“So is that a no on scuttling home together?” Lidia asked, her head tilted her head in anticipation.

“I don’t think we should,” Kelly responded softly, afraid to look into her eyes.

She nodded slowly. “Well, you have my number,” Lidia said, turning for her car parked a few meters down.

Kelly stood there, not knowing what to do, just watching her slip away. “Wait!” he decided on without a move.

Lidia turned, wondering if that was the best the history teacher could do. “Wait?” she questioned to herself. “Yes?” she called out.

“Tomorrow?”

Lidia stood there and thought. “My my, Kelly,” she said, walking back towards him to reduce needed decibels. “You really have a way with words. Wait! Tomorrow!” she mimicked. “I can see why you teach history and not English,” she mused.

“What can I say?” Kelly said, moving towards Lidia and the street. “It’s you,” he smiled.

“Me?” she asked.

“Mmhmm. You.”

“Well since you put it that way,” Lidia smiled. “What time?”

“How about,” Kelly stopped. His answer could have disastrous effects. Kelly quickly weighed the pros and cons of asking her to the lacrosse game tomorrow morning. Pro: He would have company while he watched a game that he absolutely despised. Con: She would meet his students. Pro: Maybe they would like her. Laura certainly---- “Oh crap,” interrupted his mental ping pong game. Kelly had forgotten all about Laura!

“What?” Lidia asked.

“Ehh, nothing,” Kelly lied. “How about one?”

She nodded, “Deal.” Lidia waved and got into what looked to be a blue Cougar as Kelly crossed the street for his own car.

“Hey!” she screamed, already backed into the road.

Kelly turned around, fiddling with keys, “Hey yourself!” he smiled, turning back to the door.

”No,” Lidia called, “You forgot to say where.”

“Oh,” Kelly said. “Parmalee Place?” he offered. Lidia nodded and headed for the stoplight, beeping her horn as she turned left onto Arrangst Street.
© Copyright 2008 Chuck (ccatania at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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