Be My Friday Night (15 page)

She quickly glanced across the entire class. The kids seemed to only be waiting for the next slide. Many of them rested their chins in their hands, as if listening to a story. She hit the button to progress the next slide and continued on about how Picasso was a totally wacky character.

There was a tiny part of her hoping Otto would appear in the doorway. She was rocking this, and she found a part of her wanting to share the moment with him. She shook the feeling away. She was fine. She didn’t need Otto looming in the doorway, or anyone for that matter. She continued on, telling the class about Picasso and his many lovers.

* * *

O
tto returned
to his office after his meeting. He took note Sam wasn’t there, but it didn’t bother him out too much.  She could have gone to a late lunch, or something.  He headed over to the English prep period.

“Have you had your flu shot Otto?” asked Mrs. McPhee, a teacher who would be a tremendous loss to the school when she retired in a few years.  Her first name was Rose, but Otto had never gotten used to calling her by her first name.  Randy and Holly had always called her Mrs. McPhee from their days as students, and it worked for Otto too.

Otto looked up at her surprised.

“Actually no, why?” he said.

“It’s going around.  Della had to leave today she was feeling so sick.”

Otto crinkled his eyebrows. His stomach caught, and he wasn’t exactly sure why.

“Did she get a sub?” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“The subs are all used up because of this dreadful epidemic, so no. She called Sam, her last hope. She convinced Sam to sit with her class while they watched a movie,” Mrs. McPhee said as she took a drink of water from her faded Weight Watchers water bottle. She watched Otto carefully.

Otto stared at her. He tried his best not to look panicked, and was sure he was failing.  He wanted the details, or to run over to Room 17 to make sure Sam was still alive. She’d told him the other night what’d really happened the morning he found her in his office. While he’d assured her classes getting out of control happened to all new teachers, Sam had been really hard on herself about the whole thing.

“She’s subbing for Della?  She’s in Della’s class right now, in charge of it?  You know she’s not on the sub list anymore,” he said. He attempted to keep his voice deep and calm.

“Yes.  Yes, and actually no, she is on the sub list.  Looks like she forgot to take herself off,” said Mrs. McPhee.

Otto wanted to bang his head against something, but high school principals really weren’t allowed to do that, no matter how often he wanted to, and it was more often than he'd like to admit.  He closed his eyes for a moment and then turned to look at Mrs. McPhee.

“Is everything all right here for right now or do you need me for anything?” he said.

Mrs. McPhee waved her hand at him.

“We’re fine.  We always are, and we’ll let you know if we have any concerns,” she said.

Otto nodded in a knowing way.  There were always concerns from the English teachers, and they were always more than happy to voice their opinions, but he didn’t dare say this piece of common knowledge out loud. He had somewhere to be.

“Ok, great.  Yes, contact me if you need anything.  You know where to find me,” he said.

Otto shot out the door, trying to move as fast as he could to Della’s classroom without running through the halls.

* * *

M
idway
to the classroom Otto broke out into a run. He argued to himself that this was acceptable for the situation. He had to run sometimes in cases of emergencies, and there was a high likelihood that this already was, and if it wasn’t already, it could potentially become an emergency. He almost ran past the darkened classroom where he heard Sam's voice saying something about lines and expressionism. His feet skidded against the hallway tiles to stop his momentum. He'd figured he’d be running toward a classroom on the verge of chaos with shouting students.

He braced himself against the doorway and squinted into the darkness. He heard the flutter of the projector. He hadn’t heard that sound in years.

All the students had their backs to him. No one had noticed his abrupt halt to his sprint. They were all glued to the image on the projector screen.

Sam, at ease in a way he had only caught her in at glimpses at a time, talked over the hum of the projector to explain the image shining on the screen before them. She also took the time to ask the students what they were seeing, how they were feeling about the artworks.

Every once in a while she would inject some tidbit about the artist's life, usually something scandalous. The kids loved it. She was treating them like adults, Otto noted, and from the looks on their faces, and the ease to their bodies, they were rising to the occasion.

Watching her, Otto couldn’t believe how much he missed teaching. He also loved how when it came to explaining art, Sam was a natural.

The bell for the end of class rang. Everyone in the room seemed surprised, especially Sam. It was as if they’d been woken up from a dream. She flipped off the projector, and thanked everyone for being a great class, as the students, at the sound of the bell, jumped up and began to pack their things.

* * *

A
s the students walked out
, Otto walked into the classroom. Sam didn’t hear or see him. She seemed to be having a moment to herself behind the projector.

Sam now finally let the grin spread across her face. She had done it. She had led a class and it hadn’t ended in complete disaster. She was still a little in shock from it all. She was in a blissful dazed state. At the same time it was as if the tiny beads of anxiety that had been jumping around in her stomach and on her shoulders had floated away, and all she had left was calm.

She took a deep breath. The lesson was over. Strangely, she was glad the nerves had been there in the first place. She felt even better for beginning with them, and then having them lifted away through her own doing. She felt better than she had ever felt. This topped moments when she was fearless in the city, or assertive in grad school.

When it came to work and school, she’d never needed courage before because she had never felt like she was going to lose. Somehow overcoming a demon was more satisfying. In this moment of jubilation, she felt up for other demons if defeating them would make her feel like this.

“Good job in there. I think you actually taught them something,” Otto said from the doorway.

His voice made her jump, and her nerves returned. These ones though, were definitely more pleasant.

She turned to face him. In this moment of her triumph, flushed with her own vulnerability in light of her new self-image, she couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

She was so happy to see him. He had a way of making the moment even more perfect. He had a way of making her feel more whole, if it was possible. He was the icing on a really decadent cake. It was overwhelming and intoxicating all at the same time.

“Della got sick and they couldn’t find anyone else to sub so I had to fill in. I’m sorry I totally forgot to leave you a note. How did you know where I was?” she said.

Otto stuttered.

“I heard,” he managed.

Sam gave him a searching look. Her stomach caught, and she tried to deny the wary feeling beginning to bubble inside her.

“Did you need me for something?” she said.

Otto swallowed. He cleared his throat. He looked into Sam’s shining eyes.

“Um, well Mrs. McPhee mentioned Della had gotten sick, so I came over just to check out everything,” he said.

He winced. Sam caught the caution in his voice, and her stomach continued to knot.

“Did she mention I was watching the class for Della?” she said, watching him.

"Yes," he said, hanging his head.

“So I doubt you were expecting to see what you just did, you know, me instructing students, the students listening, heck, maybe even interested in what I had to say,” she said.

Her voice was rushed, her eyes were lasers through his head.

“I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, quite honestly,” he said.

He held his breath when her lips pressed together into a thin line. She opened her mouth to speak. She looked lost, but he knew the words were coming.

“You know, I fended for myself for the past ten years of my life. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to get me out of trouble,” she said.

Her stomach dropped as she said it. She was attacking him, and claiming he was her knight all at the same time. She wasn’t quite sure which more mortified her more.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but maybe sometimes I wish, just once, you'd let me take care of you,” he said.

At first, her face looked perplexed as she scrunched her eyebrows and her open mouth was interchanged with an honest frown. He held his breath.

“All right Otto, would you buy me a drink tonight after the game?” said Sam.

Otto stopped. This wasn't a trick. He could see it in her face.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Layla said from the doorway.

Sam and Otto turned in surprise. There stood Layla arms crossed with a very smug look on her face. Randy stood next to her, wide-eyed. Layla elbowed him and he almost tipped over.

“Oh right, I forgot we had a meeting,” Otto said to Randy.

Otto turned to Sam.

"For sure on that drink," he said before he and Randy hurried away to the safe haven of the locker rooms.

Layla rushed to Sam.

"That was interesting," said Layla. Sam shook her head and laughed at her friend's deadpan delivery.

“I’ll make us some coffee. I’m fine, but if you have some time, I want to talk. I'm not even quite sure what just happened,” said Sam.

"Finally!" Layla said as she rushed to the kitchenette ready to hear her friend dish about her new love life.

* * *

“
Y
ou’ve got it bad
. I know you told me you have it bad, but now I see it myself without a doubt,” said Layla over a steaming mug of coffee.