Page 78 of More For Me

“All the more reason for you all to stop talking about this so we can get to work,” I point out.

“I’m telling you, Mr. Lakra,” Diego says. “Miss Stewart is into you. She was all giggling and leaning over your desk.”

“She was kind of looking at you like—” Lucas does a fairly decent impression of the way Jordan had been batting her eyes and fidgeting with things. Then he gives me a knowing look. “That was totally an invitation for a date.”

When I was still student teaching, I had a performance review from my advisor, Doctor Geary, where she pointed out her concern that I was too friendly with the students. She warned that it would be more difficult to discipline them down the line if they all felt like we were buddies. I always thought that was crap—having a good rapport with my students makes it easier to keep them motivated in their work and behavior.

But now I’m wondering if she might have had a point after all. I bet these monsters would have never teased sour-faced old Doctor Geary about her love life. Then I shudder at the thought of her even having a love life. Maybe the kids were right—thinking about your teacher outside of the classroom is just weird.

“Though I’m sure you give wonderful dating advice, Lucas, with your entire twelve years of life experience, this really has nothing to do with our unit on argumentative essays.” I give the kids my best teacher’s not messing around look. “Open your textbook to—”

“Nooo,” Addison wails from a few rows back. “You can’t date Miss Stewart! You’re supposed to end up with Everly Ransome!”

“Yes!” another girl agrees, clapping her hands. “Boderly is my OTP!”

“Don’t listen to them, Mr. L,” Justin says, with all the swagger and confidence of a sixth-grade boy. “You should totally be playing the field. That Ransome chick is hot, but so is Miss Stewart.”

“Justin,” I snap. “You don’t talk that way about—”

“What the hell is OTP?” Lucas interrupts, and Addison rolls her eyes.

“One true pairing,” she says, like that’s the most obvious thing in the world. “In fandom. Like Ron and Hermione in Harry Potter—total OTP. Mr. Lakra and Everly are the same. Couple goals.”

I close my eyes, wondering why in the hell scientists haven’t concentrated their efforts on making teleportation possible. What I wouldn’t give to get out of this classroom right now.

“Are you nuts?” another girl calls from the back row. “Harry should have ended up with Hermione.”

“You’re both wrong,” Annabelle says. “Harry and Draco are OTP.”

“Harry andDraco?” half the class shouts.

Screw teleportation. Scientists should figure out a way to make pre-teens less obnoxious. Surely there must be a pill for this.

“We’re done with this conversation,” I say, raising my voice over the chatter. “Text books. Chapter Twelve.”

“But Mr. Lakra—”

“The next person who mentions my personal life, reality television, or dating of any sort, between any people—real or imagined—is getting a zero on their participation grade. For the entire week.”

A stunned silence immediately falls over the room, several of the kids shooting each other bewildered glances. It’s not very often I raise my voice with them. It’s even more rare for me to sound genuinely pissed. I feel a stab of guilt and try to soften my tone. “Please read the first section and answer the comprehension questions. We’ll discuss when everyone is finished.”

I go back to my desk, feeling like an absolute asshole. And not just because I yelled at my students. It’s one thing to be pathetic enough that my friends notice my infatuation with Everly, but being so completely obvious that twelve-year-olds notice it is a whole new level of pitiful.

Unrequitedinfatuation, I remind myself, just in case I wasn’t feeling shitty enough already. Honestly, I wouldn’t give a damn how many people knew it if we were actually together. Everyone I know could tease me to their heart’s content and I wouldn’t care. I’d shout that shit from the rooftops. My social media feeds would be completely insufferable because I’d most definitely be one of those people that gushes endlessly about their significant other in every post.

But that’s not the situation I’m in. Everly is very clearly not on board with hash-tag-Boderly. And the longer I go without recognizing that, the more pathetic I get.

I grab my phone and type out a quick text to Nisha, letting her know I won’t be coming back to her house right after school. She responds immediately.

Nisha:Everything okay?

Me:Yeah. I just figured I’d take your advice. I’m going out with the other teachers after school.

Nisha:I think that’s a really good idea, Bhai.

I stash my phone, then spend the rest of the class period trying to convince myself I agree with her.

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