Page 32 of Ancient History

“No. I was–I had trouble sleeping. It happens.” That was the boring cover, and I could sense their deflation at the lack of drama and gossip in my answer. If they only knew the truth, they’d be buzzing like bees.

“If you need to nap under your desk for the rest of class, we won’t tell anyone,” Dale said.

“That won’t be needed, Dale.”

“Did you know that lack of sleep impairs your brain in the same way as being drunk. So in a way, you’re teaching us while intoxicated.” I could hear Reyansh building his case.

If he wanted to play games, we could play games. I resorted to my desk drawer of tricks and pulled out a stack of papers.

“Now that I thought about it, Reyansh, it’s been a while since we had a pop quiz.” I held up the papers, like I was waving a flag of defiance.

The kids groaned.

* * *

When I gotto cafeteria duty, there was a coffee sitting on my table, waiting to be drunk. The warm smell of roasted beans made me salivate.

“Sugar and half-and-half, right?” Hutch returned to the table, hands full of snacks and his own cup of joe. “I figured you needed the caffeine boost.”

“Thank you.” I tried not to ravage the cup and drink like a normal person.

“It’s from the faculty coffee machine.”

“It’ll do.” I took a big gulp.

He slid a sharing size bag of Skittles across the table. “A little wake up snack. Have you been yawning like a maniac today?”

“My students accused me of teaching drunk, so I gave them a pop quiz.” I broke open the bag and scooped up a handful of colorful orbs. I parsed out the yellows and greens and dropped them into his palm like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You are stone cold, Mr. Bright.” Hutch handed over the reds, purples, and oranges from his handful.

“You know, this isn’t really going to wake us up. It’s just going to give us a temporary sugar high which we’ll crash from.”

That felt like an apt metaphor for last night. I was in the middle of crashing from its highs. Still, I shoved a glut of Skittles in my mouth.

We looked at each other and awkwardly smiled, not knowing where to go. Was last night something to be talked about in the light of day?

“Hey, hey now.” Hutch put his hand over mine as he slid the Skittles bag to the center, eliciting a rush of sparks through my tired self. “Don’t bogart the Skittles. We’re splitting those.”

Hutch arched an eyebrow at me, sending my stomach on a roller coaster ride. We ate and drank in silence while students flooded in and filled the caf with noise. Eventually, Hutch got up to do his first round.

We didn’t bring up our conversation on Milkman. It belonged in its own special corner of the ether, and the less I swooned over the memory, the better.

* * *

The afternoon was a struggle.It was a beautiful afternoon, so getting the attention of my students was near impossible. And my sugar high from lunch was quickly plummeting, sending me on a crash course. I kept mixing up facts. Maybe Reyansh was right about me being technically intoxicated.

I had seventh period off. Usually, I’d spend it in the faculty lounge working on lesson plans for the future. But today, my mind could not focus. I needed a nap. Hard.

Outside, the air was breezy and filled with that perfect spring warmth. I unlocked my car, but before I got into the backseat, I spotted that the person parked next to me had a similar idea.

Hutch slept in his car’s backseat. I gazed at him a moment, taking in his peacefulness, but trying not to be a creepy stalker who watched someone sleep. His eyes fluttered open, and he greeted me with a sleepy half-smile.

“I had the same idea,” I told him when he rolled down the window.

“I need my rest for coaching.”

Yikes. He still had practice after school. I did not envy him. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

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