Page 24 of Atticus
Becca takes a piece of garlic bread and breaks it apart.
Denise purses her lips. “Really, Becs. Tell Mal to mind his own fucking business and eat what you want. He shouldn’t be saying a thing about your weight.”
“It’s important to him,” she protests. “And I want to look good in a wedding dress if he ever...you know.”
Denise rolls her eyes and stuffs her mouth with spaghetti, probably to stop herself from saying more. I could speak up myself, but I’m new to this dynamic, and if someone as outspoken as Denise is holding her tongue, perhaps it’s best I do the same.
But you’d never catch me dead trying to lose weight because a man told me to. Not a chance in hell.
“Miss Warren?”
Leaving such thoughts behind, I turn to Principal Carlisle, who stands in front of our table. I didn’t even see her come up. The kids weren’t kidding when they call Carlisle the school ghost: you never know when she’s listening.
“Yes?”
“Oh good, you’re finished eating. I’m in a bit of a bind. I’m hoping you can assist me.”
“What is it?”
Carlisle clasps her hands together and composes herself with a sniff, rather irate. “Mr. Bryant is ill and had to go home early, and I can’t get a hold of his substitute. He has two periods left before dismissal today, Early American History with his ninth graders and Earth Science as well, same grade. I was wondering if your little android assistant could handle your classes while you man the fort, so to speak, in Bryant’s absence.”
The way she sayslittle android assistantand waves her hand around like she’s discussing an irksome pet annoys the hell out of me. It takes a lot for me to hold my tongue. There’s been quite a bit of self-restraint on my part today already. First, a shitty boyfriend giving poor Becca a hard time about her weight, and now this?
“I suppose I could do that.” I manage to get the words out without any attitude attached, which means I should probably get an award for the performance. I’m by no means a scientist, but I took those classes when I was in school. I can certainly handle the first one. “Does he have any notes for what he’d like the students to complete in class today?”
“God, no. Bryant does everything in his head. Getting lesson plans from him is like pulling teeth. No, just have study hall and be open for any questions if you can. It’s not the best solution, but it’ll have to do, since we’re short-staffed.”
“I’ll let Atticus know.”
“Thank you.”
Letting Atticus know anything is beyond simple. I wish I could pull him around with me everywhere, but since he’s incapable of eating or digesting food during lunchtime, he likes to stay busy. Something about his primary directive. Far be it from me to protest when it makes him happy. He usually he stays in the classroom during lunch to make himself available for questions, or if weather permits, he goes outside to the track field where kids can walk around and get some of their excess energy out. Rather than try to hunt him down, I pull out my smartphone and shoot him a quick message.
I’ve been asked to sub for Cornelius because he went home sick. Can you handle our classes alone until end of day?
His response is quick.Of course. Whatever you need, I’m happy to help.
That phrase is one of his favorites. He uses it often.Happy to help. It’s corny, probably programmed based on his specialization as an assistant educator, almost like listening to a recording on a customer service line. But I’ve noticed, as time goes on, those words have evolved from something mechanical and rehearsed to sincere and his own. I can almost picture the inflection of his voice and his striking white eyes gazing at me as I read it.
It really hits me, then.Wow. Do I really have a crush on a machine?
Maybe it’s silly and infantile, like having a crush on a character from a TV show or a book, or an actor. Even if they exist, they’re larger than life. Too big for me to comprehend. Innocent, safe.
Why can’t I have a crush? What’s wrong with it? It’s harmless, and it doesn’t hurt anyone. Maybe it’s a little immature, just like my obsession with glowing cyberpunk K-Pop bands like 2Fresh and GalaxSee when I was a kid, but it’s not like I’m planning on telling anyone. Besides, it’ll eventually go away. Most crushes do.
Don’t they?
* * *
The benefit of covering for the history-slash-science teacher is I already know most if not all of the students in his class. A few of them make a show of groaning when I enter the room and shut the door behind me.
“Ugh, not Warren,” says one boy, Jack Gunther, a well-known troublemaker. “She’ll actually make us work!”
Atticus and I have discussed him at length. Atticus suspects Jack’s behavior is because his father is a trucker and often away, and his mother works nights as a waitress at the tavern when Jack is home, leaving him to fend for himself with little direction after school. His grades aren’t the best, and he always has a smart remark for every occasion.
“Oh, boo-hoo.” I smile sweetly at Jack, slipping into my chair. I refuse to give up on him, and I think he knows it, because he glares back defiantly at me. How he hates that he can’t get under this thick skin.Keep hating, Jack, I’m not going anywhere.“Mr. Bryant is ill, so I’ll be filling in. What were you supposed to be doing today?”
There’s one little dear I can always rely on, and her hand shoots into the air instantly, much to the entire class’s consternation. Groans and mutters break out as Pearl Kasinski clears her throat, adjusting her glasses. She sits in the first row.
