The substitute teacher smiled at the class. Third one of the day and so far everything had been going smoothly. No out of control teenagers had disrupted her feeble attempts at playing "teacher." No one seemed to realize just how much she didn't want to be here, in this high school, instead of having the job of her dreams; with money to spare, a nice car…She shook off these feelings of bitter regret and made herself focus on the waiting class.
"All right class…All right! Please find your seats and we'll get started. My name is Miss Taylor and I am not an English teacher, but I'll do my best. I do know how to read, so we will be getting some work done today. Now please open your books to page 245 and start reading on your own. Mrs. Harriet wants you to get up to page 260 or further so that she can just continue with her lesson plans tomorrow. We'll discuss any questions at 10:45, so make notes if you have questions as you're reading. Please get started."
As soon as the students started reading, Amelia Taylor was starting to drift off into the past. She thought of the life she had been living in high school. How differently she had planned her life. She knew who she would be married to and how many kids she would have. Where they would live and what they would do together. Who they would socialize with and where they would be for what holidays.
But the dreams of the young are seldom realistic or final. The plans she had made were crushed after her graduation party. When she found the boy she absolutely adored, the boy who swore to love her forever, kissing her best friend. The shock of that sight had finally kicked in. Suddenly she wasn't the homecoming queen, daddy's little princess, cheerleading captain, get-everything-my-way-or-else little girl. She was a woman who knew that the world was a horrible, nasty place full of surprises that could turn everything upside down.
She said some pretty nasty things to them both, made them feel guilty, made them beg. She was going to drag it out for as long as she could, but she got fed up with her boyfriend's sudden obsession with her. She knew now that it was all fake. She had no clue how long that had been going on and knew that things would never be the same.
She had packed up and headed off to college, her plans changing drastically. She had planned on going to college and partying away all her parents' money. She wanted so badly to just go back to those innocent nights of the teenage years, before her world was shaken like a snow globe. But now she decided to take her major in architecture seriously. Everyone seemed surprised back in November at her choice of majors. But she knew that if she decided to pursue something, it could be something that sounded exciting and promised a fairly good paycheck. She didn't want to be living off Daddy's money forever.
She glanced over the classroom, took in the potted plants, the orderly setup Mrs. Harriet had going here. The shelves and shelves of books. Over the teenagers in the room. Her roaming eyes took in two girls giggling over a sheet of paper, a note from one of their boyfriends no doubt. She cleared her throat slightly, they're giggling stopped immediately and they focused very intently on their textbooks. She glanced at the clock. Only 10:15. She continued her surveillance of the students. Suddenly, she did a double take. There in the middle row next to the windows. A boy, so distantly familiar, yet she was getting chills.
He wasn't especially good looking. He seemed to be a loner of sorts. At least he seemed focused on his work. But that's not why he had caught her eye. Funny that someone so unlike Warren would catch her eye, after so many years. Funny that it would be someone so unlike her former boyfriend.
Warren: six foot two quarterback on the football team, forward on the basketball team, and pitcher on the baseball team. An all-around athlete. The ring leader of the popular jocks. This boy was scrawny, timid looking. He couldn't be more than five foot seven or eight. Warren had glowed with self confidence and an attitude that could easily come off as being cockiness. He was the handsome boy who everyone wished would notice them, even some of the younger teachers. He had so much going for him. This boy looked engrossed in his work and that was another major difference in them. Warren had been the loud, class clown who got away with it. Teachers would just shake their heads and try to move on. He hadn't been completely rude to them, but he got close many times.
Amelia shuffled through the papers in the substitute's folder Mrs. Harriet had left and came up with the seating chart. She found the boy's picture, obviously from the previous year. Underneath the picture of the younger version of this boy was the name: David Raymond. She knew that if his name had started with a "W" she might have had to go in the hall and take a deep, deep breath. As it was she decided to walk through the classroom to calm down and see how the students were doing.
"Is anyone finished yet?"
About seven hands went up in the air. She glanced at the clock. "In ten minutes we'll go over any questions, so just get as far as you can in that amount of time."
She started up and down the rows, glancing down at the open books and slouching backs. Along the way she woke three students, picked up five pencils, tripped over a few purses, and confiscated at least ten notes.
When she got around to the windows, she paused a few desks away from David Raymond. He was staring at the page as if he was reading intently what the author had left there. As she slowly made her way up his row, she realized with a start that he was not staring at the writing as she had thought. He was staring at the painting on the opposite page. It was a painting of a beautiful landscape, done by one of the European artists or another. She calmly walked right by him and sat at the desk again, as if nothing had happened.
The painting reminded her of another time of bitter disappointment in her life. Job seeking can be testing on anyone. But she seemed to take it harder. Rejection after rejection did not help her already negative outlook at on the real world. One time in particular. She was positive that the painting on the wall was a good sign. The same painting that was in the book. It was so pleasant, so inviting. And this was her second interview here. She had been hopefully. She had been crushed.
So here she was, a substitute teacher. She was living in a small apartment on a small paycheck. She worked part-time at the local grocery store. Her parents had wanted her to stay around. After that party, she had murder on her mind. She figured that moving a couple states away would help her cool down.
Someone's hand was raised. "Miss Taylor? It's been about ten minutes. Can we start discussing?"
With a start she realized that she had been daydreaming far too much and hadn't even glanced over the reading. She stood and walked to the front of the room, taking the big teacher's book with her, hoping the notes from Mrs. Harriet and the footnotes in the book would be good enough crutches for the time being.
"Alright. Does anyone have a question on a certain part of the story?" She pointed to the girl who had first spoken. Obviously a nerd. Amelia thought it before she could stop herself.
"When the king finally decides to let the brave captain go to fight the dragon, on page 255, third paragraph from the bottom…"
Half the class groaned. Clearly she had gotten much farther than they liked. Amelia guessed that they hadn't read it...
"Let's have someone read that paragraph so we can better understand what your question is." She glanced casually at the seating chart. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl raising her hand again, almost frantically. Amelia knew that she wanted to read it, but felt the need to do a kind of justice. "David Raymond. Please read page 255, the third paragraph from the bottom."
"No, thank you."
She felt her face getting warm. "I was not giving you a choice. You will read."
"I said, no thank you." She was positive she saw direct defiance in those eyes. Probably the only thing that David Raymond had in common with Warren: those hazel eyes speckled with gold. She set her jaw and walked up to his desk.
"What do you think this is? I asked you to read. We need you to read this section so we can better understand the question being asked. Why is this so hard?"
Warren when he would tease and poke fun at her, those summer nights when he would drive her out into the fields outside of town. When they would lay in the bed of his pickup and listen to the crickets. Then he would steal her shoes and start to run. She was athletic too, but he was too fast. He would run in circles around her, tossing her sandals in the air, catching them and running again as she lunged for them. Her jaw tightened until she could hear the grinding.
"To the office. NOW!" Her hand was shaking as she held it out, pointing to the door. He looked at her in disbelief. Then slowly, he picked up his books, stood, and strode silently out the door.
The pressure in her jaw suddenly ended with a pop and she could have screamed at the feeling of her jaw practically breaking. Turning her back on the class, she made her way back to the desk. The students were looking at each other as she laid the textbook and seating chart down and rubbed her neck. Three hands shot up, more following.
"Miss Taylor?"
She was staring at the seating chart. She noticed the star next to David Raymond's name for the first time. Turning the page over, she read the note. Dropping into the chair, she let the tears fall. Soon she was sobbing. She heard voices around her. Someone was going for the nurse and the principal. Someone placed a box of tissues at her arm. Faintly, she heard conversation going on around her.
"Didn't Mrs. Harriet tell her that David was dyslexic?"
