“You’re right, and I know all this.”
“Then what is the problem?” Peter asked throwing his hands up in the air.
“I wish I knew, my friend. I wish I knew.”
And I really hoped that one day I would.
Chapter Four
Tina
I took a deep breath and entered the school building I landed a job in. I was there. It was time. This was the day I’d been dreaming about for years. Everything I’d ever wanted to do was right in front of me. I knew that I was about to embark on a journey that would take me places and teach me things that I never would have imagined. I was so nervous and excited.
I was about to start my first day as a sixth grade English teacher.
Ever since I was in high school, all I’d ever dreamt about doing was working with kids. I believe it stemmed back to my own junior high experiences with a few great teachers who took the time to make a difference in my life when I was going through some tough times. They never gave up on me. And I wanted to make the same type of difference in someone else’s life.
All of my friends thought I was off my rocker, but this had been my dream for a long time. It was all I’d ever wanted to do, and I wanted to do it well. I’d been too nervous to sleep the night before, but I wasn’t tired. I was too wired, too jazzed up and ready to roll. I just hoped the kids couldn’t tell.
I walked into the office to meet with the principal. He’d gone over a few of the guidelines and given me a copy of the student handbook a few days ago, but now he wanted to make sure that I didn’t have any questions.
“So, the kids will try to mess with you at first because you are new. They are looking forward to blowing off some steam that was probably pent up by the time spent with their previous teacher, Mr. Newbour, so don’t let that throw you. It’s important to keep a level head and not give them the reaction they are seeking.”
I felt like I should have been taking notes, but that seemed like it would look very amateurish and silly. So, I just did my best to keep a tally in my head.
“Ok, I can handle it,” I said. “I pretty much expected it.”
“Good,” Mr. Wicker, the principal said. He leaned forward and smiled a sweet grin while crossing his fingers on his desk. It was first thing in the morning, but I could already see that this man was looking forward to the final bell of the day. He struck me as the type of man with whom the charm of children had worn out on him many years ago and now the very thought of being around them all day filled him with the type of dread that you’d expect in a combat zone.
Wicker sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Not really,” I said. “I’m pretty eager to get started.”
“I love the enthusiasm,” he said. “But most teachers start out that way.”
I nodded. “Are you trying to scare me?” I joked.
He laughed. “No, but I’m sure after a few days of this you will be plenty scared. Teaching the junior high kids is so much more difficult than all other grades in several ways. They are in a transition in their lives between being kids and becoming young adults. This can be very trying for a young teacher to deal with.”
“I’m not sure why it would matter?” I asked genuinely, but the moment I said it I was certain it came off as arrogant.
“Well, you will see, but I’ll give you some tips here. You might think the kids will relate to you because you are young, but to them you are still an adult, authority figure and they also are getting to the age where they think they know all you know and more. On top of this, there is the distraction of hormones, and when school is the last thing on their minds throughout the day, and you’ve got a recipe for chaos and disorder.”
“Ok, now I am scared,” I said truthfully. I was getting more nervous by the second. I had the impulse of leaving and running out the door. Maybe this had all been a mistake and I should have become a journalist like my mother had advised.
“So, you will be tempted to be their friend and try to relate to them as the young, hip teacher,” Wicker continued.
Hip? Did anyone ever actually use that word anymore?
Wicker sighed. “But you need to keep your voice authoritative. They need to respect you. Of course, you don’t want to come across as mean—that is frowned upon nowadays—but you do want to come across as in charge. And those kids will test you to see how much they can get away with. Just meter out the discipline and keep your emotions calm and even. It’s not personal; it’s just a job. Remember that and you will be fine.”
I left the office heading towards my classroom feeling like I’d just been debriefed before interviewing a prisoner on death row. Why was I there? What was my goal again? Did I really want to do this?
Yes. I had to stay focused. I could handle this. I knew I could.
I found my class and went inside. There were already a few kids in the classroom sitting around mingling and laughing about something. They looked up when I walked in and their expressions changed to ones of confusion and… mischief? Was that right?
I did not engage them or draw their eye contact. I immediately went to my desk in the front of the room and sat my bag down. I took out a few of my notebooks and folders, including my school issued gradebook that I was looking forward to using.
Then I wrote my name up on the board. Ms. Daniels. Yeah… I was going to go with Ms. Soon it would change. I smiled at the thought. It was a warm feeling inside a storm of nervous thoughts and almost hysterical nerves that I was dealing with.
I’d slept at Blake’s the night before (well, tried to sleep anyway) and he had wished me the best of luck that morning. I wished he was there right now to give me some comforting words. He always knew exactly what to say to me to calm me down when I got worked up,. It had been a while, but the past week had definitely had some stress to it.
I introduced myself to the class after the room was full and the bell rang. It was a strange experience, being up in front of a class. All of those blank faces staright right through me. So far, I hadn’t lost their attention, but I was certain it would happen soon.
The rest of the morning went pretty well. I had a few kids who tried to goof off and others who just plain insulted me to make their classmates laugh But after giving out a detention and sending two other kids to the office, the class saw that I was firm, but fair. I was not going to take any guff from them.
Before I knew it, I was having lunch in the teachers’ lounge. It was a fairly large space and I was surprised that there weren’t more teachers there.
I sat there alone eating my peanut butter sandwiches I’d packed, reading a good book, when I suddenly realized that I was not alone any longer. I turned my head slightly away from my book. I was now looking at a young man about twenty-five with medium length, wavy hair, kind eyes, and a winning smile. He was sitting right beside me, despite the fact that there were several empty chairs around us for him to choose.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Norm. Norm Smith.”
He held out his hand. I shook it. As I took his hand, I noticed that his hand was soft, but warm with a little bit of an oily feel to it.
“Hi, I’m Tina Daniels.”
“First day?”
“Yep.”
He winced and leaned back a bit. “How’s it been?”
“It’s not too bad. It is a lot to take in, but I’m getting the hang of it. At least I think I am.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit different than college, right? Even student teaching is different it seems. There is some weird thing that happens when you realize it’s all on your shoulders.”
I laughed. “I think I’ll survive. How long have you been with the school?”
“Since I started, four years ago,” Norm said. “It’s a good school with some great teachers. I’ve made a lot of good friends.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said.
“Well, I guess I’m your first friend,” Norm said joking.
I laughed. “Where
are the other teachers? Do they not eat in here?”
“Actually, most eat at their desks and grade papers or plan lessons. There are just not enough hours in the day sometimes, you know? Plus, with the different lunch groups only four teachers have lunch at a time anyway.”
“Ah, that makes sense,” I said.
“So, what do you do for fun? We do occasionally get to do fun stuff, on weekends,” Norm said with a goofy grin.
Norm was sweet, but he reminded me of the type of guy who was always trying too hard. There was an air of insecurity about him.
“I usually just do whatever is fun, but lately I spend time with my fiancé,” I said.
I could see the light go out of his eyes as soon as I mentioned my fiancé.
“Ah, that’s great,” Norm said.
I could hear it in his voice that he was totally disappointed. Apparently, my ring didn’t give it away. But Norm did not strike me as the most observant sort, especially when he was mustering up the nerve to ask me out. I wondered if that was why he’d even tried to speak to me.
“Yeah, we just got engaged. I’m very excited. But also, nervous. I guess that is normal,” I said.
Norm was silent for a moment. He just smiled and nodded as he bit into his sandwich, which appeared to be peanut butter and jelly.
We didn’t talk much the rest of the lunch period, but it was still nice having someone close that I could at least call an acquaintance. Besides Principal Wicker I hadn’t met anyone else at the school that I could relate to yet.
After lunch I went back to my classroom ready to tackle it again. So far it wasn’t as bad as what Wicker had tried to warn me about, but it was not as easy as I’d hoped it would be. Somehow, I thought that the kids might even take it easy on me the first day, like with some jobs where you are shown the ropes at first and then they begin to pile on more responsibility as you get familiar with everything.
Nope; with teaching, I was thrown right into the deep end.
But I was determined to make it through.
* * *
“So, that sounds lovely, my dear,” My mother said as she scooped a big mound of mashed potatoes onto my plate.
It looked and smelled delicious. I always looked forward to my Monday night dinners at my parents’ house. It was a great way to connect and to enjoy the comforts of home, that at one time I was so desperate to leave for some reason. My how times did change. Nowadays, I often found myself wishing that I could go back and have someone take care of all the major things in my life. Kids do take their youth for granted.
“It was not bad,” I said. “I think it will be wonderful once I get the hang of everything.”
“You’ve got to be tough and show those little punks that they can’t push you around,” My father, Lyle said.
I laughed. My father was very much from the old school where he viewed everyone—especially children—as adversaries.
“Dad, they are just kids. They will fall into the routine and so will I. They aren’t punks or juvenile delinquents.”
“I bet they are all on dope,” he replied with a grunt.
“They are eleven.”
“Yep, definitely on dope.”
My mother shook her head. “Don’t worry about him, dear. He just found out that they gave his old job to Jack Florence.”
“Oh,” I said. Jack Florence was the man that my father hated and had to work with for over twenty years. The man was a total suck up and a complete incompetent, at least according to my father. “I’m sorry to hear that dad.”
“Yeah, there isn’t a thing I can do about it. I’m the retired guy; so, my opinion doesn’t mean squat anymore.”
“Well, I guess when you don’t work there anymore, then you can’t have a say. That’s kind of the way it goes.”
“Thirty-five years,” he said. “After all that time you would think I’d be the first guy called to consort on these things. I know I’m not there anymore, but I might as well be. It’s just a slap in the face.”
I didn’t want to talk much more about it. My father was in one of his moods and if you fed into it, then he would keep you talking forever.
“I’m surprised you aren’t spending the evening with Blake,” my mother, Connie said as she finally sat down to her own plate.
I nodded. “Well, he was busy with some work tonight, besides I never miss these home cooked meals with you. And I’m giving him a little bit of space.”
“Space? What did he do?” My father asked.
“Nothing dad,” I said. “We just had a disagreement about something. That is all.”
“What about, honey?” My mom asked.
I paused a moment. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to go into it with them. I’d gone over this a thousand times in my own mind and the more I did, the worse it sounded. Blake had every right to be angry. I was being childish about the whole thing. What in the world would he be hiding from me? I was going to spend my life with the man, and I couldn’t bring myself to trust him completely? What did that say about me?
“I allowed myself to get upset because I still haven’t met his parents. I accused him of trying to hide something from me. I know it’s silly.”
My mother and father looked at each other. After a moment, my mother spoke. “That isn’t silly at all. Your father and I have spoken about the very same thing. It’s very strange.”
“You agree?” I asked. “You don’t think I was in the wrong?”
“No, not at all. In fact, we’ve both wanted to ask him the same questions but didn’t think it was our place.”
My father grunted and then spoke. “I would have gone ahead and cornered the jerk about it, but your mother wouldn’t let me. She said it was up to you. But, so far you haven’t had much luck. I’ve never trusted that man.”
“What? Since when have you not trusted him?” I asked. This was the first I’d heard of my father’s feelings regarding this matter.
“I don’t know. I’ve just never liked his way,” my father said with a shrug. “No particular reason, but I just have always gotten the impression from him that he was not completely upfront and truthful.”
This was crazy. I thought both my parents liked Blake.
My mother put her hand on my arm and leaned in a little bit. “Your father just thinks that there are a few things that don’t add up with Blake, and come to think of it he has a point. You just said it yourself, right?”
I was at a loss for words. I didn’t know what to think. Now I could feel my brain really going into overdrive as I tried to come up with a linear pattern of thought to make sense of this new information. My feelings had been shaky the past few days and now the two people I counted on most in the world to keep me balanced and put my mind at ease (I’ve always had a tendency to far over analyze things and whip up massive amounts of anxiety) were in agreement that my paranoia was accurate.
This was throwing me for a big loop and now I felt the walls crashing down on me. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.
My mother shook her head and patted me on the arm. “Honey, it’s nothing to worry about. Nobody is perfect. We of course don’t know Blake as well as you do. We’ve only met him half a dozen times and even then, in short bursts. We will feel better once he is part of the family. As far as his family not meeting you, I imagine that a lot of that is on them and not him. What do you think?”
I didn’t know what to think. Now it seemed my mother was trying to tell me what I wanted to hear since I’d reacted strongly to the news that neither of them fully approved of my fiancé.
“Ok,” I said. “I think you are right.”
Of course, I no longer knew what them being right really was all about. They’d told me some conflicting information. Was everyone else tapped into something that was painfully obvious, but I was too wrapped up in the love I felt for Blake to notice?
These concerns were still on my mind when I pulled up in front of the small house I was renting. Blake was waiting there f
or me. I hadn’t seen him all day and despite all of the concerns I had, he was there, and he was happy to see me.
I practically lunged out of my car (almost forgetting to shut off the engine) and fell into his arms.
“Wow, the first day was that rough?” Blake asked with a smile.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
I kissed him hard on the mouth. It felt so good to be with him, in his arms, and to have his mouth on mine. The intense look in his eyes was spreading warmth all over my body, his ravaging hands rolling all over, and his hard bulge pressing against me. I wanted him. And I had to have him right now.
We barely made it inside still fully clothed.
Before I realized it, I was being dumped onto the bed and my clothes ripped from my body. Blake removed every stitch of thread from my form with expert skill and now I lay before him naked, wet, and so ready to rock his world.
He stood in front of me, leaning over me at the end of the bed. A sweet, yet smug smile had crept over his face. He had some dirty thoughts going through his mind and I was anxious to see what developed from them.
Blake pulled his black T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. His abs were tight, and his tanned skin glistened in the dimly lit room, basking in the slight glow from the few rays of the full moonlight that branched out through the window.
“How bad do you want me?” Blake asked. His voice was low and thick… I could barely hear it over the thumping of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I was so alive, so vibrant, and more turned on than I’d probably ever been in my entire life.
“I want you baby…”
My voice came out as a moaning whisper. My throat was so dry, I felt like I could have chugged a gallon of water and still needed more, but I was too focused on Blake and the pure bliss I was about to experience. I knew it was coming. I needed it so bad. I hoped to show him how much I craved him, and how much I had thought of his touch every single second of the day. Even in the back of my mind while I was working and trying to keep my mind on other things, Blake always came back to me. Was it normal to need someone this badly? He was more addictive than any drug I ever could have imagined. When I wasn’t with him, I started to feel intense withdrawal symptoms. I never knew it was possible to become this attached to another person, but I was living proof of the spell that this type of love had cast over me, and the power it held.
His Secrets Page 5
