Silence.
“Okay, that leaves, let's see, dead classroom turtle, Pluto not a planet anymore, or…anything to do with a Star Wars prequel.”
“None of the above.”
A pause. “No Kate, this past week, I heard.”
Must have gotten that from the Carol hotline. “Nope.”
“She coming back?”
“Not sure.”
Lucius sat on the bench beside him. “Too bad. I owe her twenty bucks for promising to drop you in that dunk tank.”
Peter stopped tying his shoe and sat up, eyes questioning.
Lucius smiled. “Just kidding.”
Peter pointed. “Look at my face. Not laughing.”
“Sorry. I like Kate.”
“Well, so do I. And if you ask if I like like her, so help me…”
Lucius waved his fingers in surrender. “No, no.” He paused. “Kind of hard
to figure out, isn't it? How you feel about someone. What to do about it.”
Peter pulled on his other shoe and began to lace it.
“Yes, people are complex,” Lucius continued.
“I'm sorry, did I ask a question?”
“I'm just saying it's not easy to figure someone out completely. A lot goes into making who we are.”
“Yeah, about a hundred-and-sixty dollars' worth of chemicals.”
“I meant our past, our choices.”
“Are you getting at something? Because I've got to go try to figure out how
to teach the difference between acids and bases with a budget of”—he checked
the paper next to him— “fourteen dollars and ninety-eight cents.”
“Okay. My point is—”
“Sorry, stop. I'll save you the time of more song and dance. Getting closer to
Kate would be a mistake. Being friends, fine. Resolving past issues, great. But we live in different worlds now.”
“Oh, I don't know. She seemed pretty at home painting faces at the carnival.”
Peter saw her in his mind, then, laughing, teasing the kids while she painted
their faces. A natural with the students. He sobered. “Right, and then she left.
She doesn't live here anymore, Lucius. Her life—the life she chose—is in Chicago, with her high-rise office and her Armani water or whatever. She's moved on. She's in the city. That's what she's chosen. She's not a small-town girl anymore.”
“And you're still in high school. The same one you grew up in, in the same
town.”
Peter held his head. “Oh, geez, please don't psychoanalyze me.”
“Sounds like you might be a little jealous.”
He was done getting dressed and stood. “Well, you know what? Maybe I am.
Maybe I'm tired of having to bleed every semester during budget season, trying
to beg for enough materials so my students can have half a chance at learning something. Maybe I should interview for that job in Chicago. Maybe it's time for
me to move on.” Maybe this will be my only chance.
“That's a lot of maybes.
