Page 72 of Clued in to Love
“It’s a boy,” she said, sticking out her tongue and scowling.
“It usually is,” Darby agreed with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, well, I keep replaying your introduction of what you called the ‘unwitting philosophers’ in his work, and how you raised the point that he often used the character of the fool as commentator on society and its bigger issues, but I just I feel like a regular fool for falling for a guy who is nothing like he seemed originally. That’s also straight out of Shakespeare, isn’t it?”
“Sadly, it is.” Darby rearranged the snack section, refilling glass jars with crackers and cookies.
“So, I guess I proved your point that Shakespeare is timeless.” Olivia made another face. “That and maybe perfect images on social media aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Maybe it’s more about showing up, you know? Being authentic. Being real, and flawed, and vulnerable.”
Darby gulped, feeling a rush of emotion sweep over her.
Out of the mouths of babes.
“Anyway, I should get going. Another project awaits. See you later, Mrs. Reynolds, and thanks for the intro to Shakespeare. It doesn’t take away the sting of being completely wrong about a guy, but I guess it does give me a little perspective.” Olivia hurried off with a wave.
Darby finished prepping for the day, feeling Olivia’s words repeat in her head—being real, flawed, and vulnerable was exactly what Samesh had done.
She heated water for tea in her electric kettle. When she first suggested the idea of offering morning drinks to her students to her principal, there was pushback about safety concerns, but Darby insisted. Her first class started at seven twenty in the morning—a ridiculously early hour for developing brains. She had repeatedly spoken at school board meetings advocating topush the high school day back to eight thirty or nine. It was a bus issue. She understood that, but people who’d never been in a classroom failed to realize that teens needed sleep. Study after study supported by the CDC and doctors had shown that early start times for high schools translated to poor academic performance and even attributed to other health risks like drinking, smoking, and drug usage.
The first twenty minutes of Darby’s class were used for her students to warm up—literally and figuratively. They could help themselves to a cup of tea, cider, hot chocolate, and a healthy snack since many of them skipped eating breakfast, instead sleeping in for an extra half hour. Darby played music and used the first part of their class time for students to free-write in their journals. She found that a slower, more mindful, and purposeful start to the day led to better discussions and focus for the rest of the period.
Other teachers had followed her lead. Now, if they could convince the school board to rearrange the bus schedules, but that was a battle for another day.
The tea kettle whistled as Darby continued to push thoughts of Samesh aside.
Was Olivia right?
Was she being too harsh?
He had shown up after all, and there was no denying his attempt at grand, sweeping romantic gestures.
Darby passed out journals. She never graded the students’ personal writing. She merely scanned them to make sure they were actually using the time to reflect. Journaling was a private, spiritual, and essential practice for maintaining mental health.
Maybe you should journal.
Darby always hoped that some of what she was trying to impart to these young minds would stick. Beginning a journalinghabit at this stage of development could establish coping strategies and ways to calm the mind for years to come.
Maybe you should take your own advice.
She was saved by a commotion in the hallway and checked the clock.
There were still fifteen minutes before class. Students would begin trickling in soon, but she was surprised to hear so much noise this early. She peered out her door to see marching band members lining up near the cafeteria.
Was there an assembly this morning?
She hadn’t received a notification unless it had come in over the weekend.
She checked her email. There was nothing about any special events for the day.
Darby returned to prep, trying to make sense of her muddled feelings about Samesh as drums thudded in the distance.
Maybe the band was practicing for the Starlight Parade. Typically, they rehearsed in the gym or outside, but it was cold, dark, and snowy, so the director might have asked permission to practice inside before the first bell.
Darby enjoyed the upbeat sounds of the drums and percussion instruments as she finished setting up the classroom. The band continued while students arrived. She let them settle in. The principal came over the loudspeaker after the final bell had rung.
“We have an exceptional guest in the building this morning to make an extraordinary announcement. I invite all classes to go to your assigned stations now.”
Assigned stations? Darby was confused.
