Matt finished his lunch and stood. “I gotta run and make copies.” Bidding everyone goodbye, he headed across the hall into the workroom.
To: All_Staff_HaysMS
From: Rosa Mendez
Date: August 30
Subject: Morale Building Committee
The Morale Building Committee will meet Friday after school at Gringo’s celebrating the end of the first week. Appetizers are half off until six. Email me if you’re coming so we can save you a seat.
———
Rosa Mendez
Principal’s Secretary, Sarah Hays Middle School
Matt spent his eighth period on Friday making copies for the next week and entering grades for both his and Dorothy’s classes, catching up on emails and paperwork. The end of the day bell rang just as he stood and erased the day’s agenda from his front board and started writing Monday’s topic and objectives. He was so busy thinking about how he wanted to word everything that he missed someone entering his classroom. “Wow, you’re organized.”
Turning around, Matt spotted Sawyer standing in the doorway, his beat-up satchel slung over his shoulder. “Never hurts to stay one step ahead.”
“So I’m learning.” Sawyer admitted, entering the room. He picked up an algebra textbook, grinning as he thumbed through the pages. “Not quite the same as what we’re working on.”
Matt chuckled. The difference between seventh grade and algebra was vast and deep. “Particularly with your special ed kids. How’s that going?” he asked, walking toward his desk. One more glance at his computer, checking for any new emails and then he turned it off with a deep and satisfying sigh.
Sawyer snorted. “It was quite the week. That reminds me.” He set his bag on a desk and began pulling out a stack of worksheets. He handed them to Matt with an apologetic look. “I graded everything from yesterday and today. I don’t think I’ve done too much damage with the kids. At least, nothing that can’t be fixed.” A wan smile lingered on his face, but the worry was clear in his eyes. “I mean, I just don’t want to screw things up too bad.”
“You’ll be okay.” Matt grabbed the papers along with two more thick stacks from his desk, tossing them all into his backpack. “Got any weekend plans?” he asked absently as he turned off the light and headed into the hallway.
“You Tube,” Sawyer chuckled. “Gotta learn what I’m teaching next week.”
Matt laughed. “It’s not that bad. You passed seventh grade at some point, I hope.”
“I did, but it was a long time ago.” Sawyer followed him out into the hallway. “I don’t remember learning how to add and subtract integers. I don’t even think I could define an integer last week but here we are.”
“Cora’s done this for a few years, let her do the first couple classes and you’ll pick it up quick,” Matt said as they headed down stairs.
Sawyer agreed. “She’s amazing with those kids. All of them, really, but the ones that need the extra help, she’s great.”
Walking down the hall, they saw other teachers all heading for the front, shooing stray kids out of the hallway and toward their exits. “How come you’re not with the coaches?” Sawyer asked suddenly. “I thought you did that the last period of the day.”
“Friday night football, so no practice on Fridays. The coaches go scout big games for the high school coaches, then they go catch a beer afterward. Sometimes I travel with them but since I’ve got a lot going on this year, they have given me a bit of a reprieve. I’m lucky they understand when I need some extra time.” The sun was blindingly bright when they made it to the front of the school, waving at a few kids who called out their names as they scrambled into their parents’ cars.
“Then I guess you’re not heading to the happy hour,” Sawyer said.
“Me? No, not this time. I’ve got a paper due by midnight that’s not quite complete. But you should go.” Matt looked over at Sawyer. “It’ll be fun. Order the nachos, you won’t be sorry.”
Sawyer grinned, his bright blue eyes crinkling as he laughed. “Nachos. Will do.” He took a few steps toward the right side of the parking lot. “Hey, Matt. Thanks for everything this week. And last week too. I get that you’re super busy and all…”
Matt shrugged it off. “Have a good time tonight.” He headed toward his truck, and glancing back, he spotted Sawyer walking toward the bike rack and unlocking a ten-speed bicycle. He chuckled, imagining the man biking down to Gringo’s and for a moment he considered joining them.
But this assignment wouldn’t finish itself. Tossing his backpack into the passenger side of his old Chevy truck, he started the engine and headed off toward his house.
Matt had silenced his phone and left it in its charger while he sat at his desk and worked on his paper, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the screen light up repeatedly with each new message received. Must be a hell of a happy hour, he guessed, coming to a stopping point a little after eight. Once he submitted the paper, Matt closed his laptop and tossed it on his bed, reaching for the phone.
Yeah, there were a lot of messages.
Cora: Miss you, Matt! We had a round in your name. Hope you’re studying a lot. Sawyer said you had to finish a paper.
Deanna: Did you know Sawyer used to own a restaurant? He cooks! He’s bringing cinnamon rolls on Monday so stop by my room when you get there.
Daisy: I love Dorothy’s sub! Norma said he rides a bike to school each day.
Eva: (send a picture of several of them, all laughing) Sawyer’s hysterical. Wish you were!
Matt looked at the messages for a long time, not sure what was happening when it hit him. Oh. OH. Damn.
Sawyer was gay. The cute new long-term substitute was gay, and in their collective and slightly drunken wisdom, his colleagues wanted him to know. Just in case, you know.
Shit.
September
Matt’s first kiss with a girl happened at his 8th grade end of the year dance. He and Tara Houghton slow danced to I’m with you by Avril Lavigne and then kissed in a dark hallway. They chatted a few times over the phone that summer, but once school started up in the fall, Matt pushed himself into school and football, working on the ranch on the weekends and deciding that he didn’t have time for a girlfriend.
Matt’s first kiss with a boy happened the weekend after his seventeenth birthday. By then Matt had come to terms with being gay, but there weren’t many openly gay students in his high school. Even if there were, Matt drew little attention to his sexuality. His teachers considered him a good kid - smart, polite, dressed okay and if the absence of a dating life suggested his sexual orientation, so be it. It didn’t hurt that he was a natural athlete, playing all the sports well. His coaches considered Matt a tough son of a bitch, the greatest compliment a semi-closeted gay boy in Texas could accomplish. He could ignore the casual homophobic comments in the locker room and pretend they weren’t talking about him.
But one night during his junior year, Matt found himself at a bonfire on Jorge Duarte’s family’s farm after the district track and field finals. He drank a couple beers, and he stole into an empty barn with Derek Marshall, a senior and one of the few ‘out and proud’ boys at his high school. They jerked each other off and then sat in the hay, holding hands and talking shit about people they knew and life in Estella. The next day Matt called and told Derek that he didn’t want any kind of relationship, and they were both cool about it. Life changed little after that; Matt had a couple close friends who knew about him, and for senior prom, he went with a group of friends and had a great time.
Being gay would never define him. His grandparents never asked, and if they suspected, they kept it to themselves.
Matt met Justin, first serious boyfriend, when he was nineteen and a freshman at the University of Texas. A friend of a friend, they dated on and off for a year until Matt’s grandmother got sick, and he took a semester off to help at home. Since then, he’d dated a couple guys here and there along the way, but nothing important, and no on
e serious since he started working full time as a teacher. Despite some initial misgivings when he first got the job, Matt hadn’t ever felt like an outcast or outsider because of his sexuality at Hays and guessed that most people on campus knew about his sexual orientation, and just didn’t care about it. Aside from the occasional chatter about setting him up with their gay cousins, the lack of conversation about it was unusual, but he wasn’t a flamboyant queen. It was never discussed, and Matt was just fine with that. One day he’d have time for a relationship, but not now.
Absolutely not now.
Spending the last period of the day with the coaches always boosted Matt’s mood. Something about the physical activity and camaraderie with the coaches mixed with the September sunshine helped reduce any frustration that Matt picked up from spending the day teaching. One afternoon he walked into the locker room and heard all the kids changing into their practice gear, laughing and joking with each other. It reminded him of his own football days when he was a kid; some of the best times in his life. Turning the corner, he spotted Paul and Clint in the coaches' office huddled over the large white board and walked over to join them. “Making changes already?” he asked, curious as they glared at the board, covered in football plays, x’s and arrows. “I thought things were good. Eighth grade won their first two scrimmages, right?”
Paul shook his head, and Matt could see how upset he was. “We lost Jason Trevino. The family is moving to California.”
Matt stared back and forth, unconvinced. Jason was in his 3rd period math class, smart as a whip and a hell of a quarterback. “Are you sure?”
Clint nodded. “Just came by a few minutes ago to drop off his gear. Parents are withdrawing him right now.”
“Fuck.” Matt felt gutted and understood their long faces. “He’s a great kid. Gonna miss him. I had him in class today, he said nothing about this.”
“Gonna miss his right arm,” Paul snorted. “I think he didn’t tell us this was all going on because he was upset about it too.” Paul looked over at the whiteboard again, shaking his head. “We just don’t have anybody else even close to being ready to quarterback the team like that kid.”
Right at that moment, the boys rushed out of the locker room doors and out to the football field. “I’ll go with them to the field,” Clint said, reaching for his old fishing hat and sunglasses. Matt didn’t miss the look that passed between the two coaches. “Catch you guys in a bit.”
After Clint left, Matt turned back to Paul. “What was that all about?” he asked, worried.
“Well, you know,” Paul said. “We were just talking. Matt, we appreciate how much you’ve got on your plate right now, having to babysit the new teacher and your own classes you’re taking. Maybe this is a time to step back and not worry about helping us out during eighth period this year.”
Matt’s eyes widened as Paul talked. “No way. I’m fine. Thanks for thinking of me, but really. I need this time with you guys. I look forward to it every day.”
Paul didn’t seem convinced. “You’re sure?”
Matt punched his shoulder twice. “C’mon, let’s go. We gotta find a new quarterback.”
It was after six, the sun hanging low in the sky, when Matt left the locker room and headed toward his truck. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Sawyer walking his bike past the school toward the crosswalk. Matt walked toward him, giving a slight wave. “You’re here late. Everything okay?”
Sawyer nodded. “Getting ready for tomorrow. I guess the key to avoiding long lines at the copy machine is staying late.”
“Or getting here early,” Matt added. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“You already do too much.”
“It’s my job to help you.” Guilt surged through Matt, and he didn’t like how he’d been coming across. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like it was burdensome.” Matt wondered how much complaining he’d been doing if this was coming from both the coaches and Sawyer. “So, how are the classes going?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the test grades on two step equations this afternoon. Cora and I had a long talk after school. I think we need to go over them again tomorrow, maybe let them take that section of the test again before we start inequalities.”
“Maybe you could split the class into two groups. If some kids did alright, they could work on some enrichment activity, or go deeper while either you or Cora works with the kids that didn’t get it.” Matt stopped, a smile on his face. “Or better still, let the kids who got it pair up with some of them that didn’t.”
Sawyer nodded, understanding spreading on his face. “They listen to each other better sometimes. And it’ll be an immense help in those classes that I teach by myself.”
“It’s worth a shot.”
“Thanks, man. I’m going to call Cora and see what she thinks.” He smiled at Matt. “You have a good night, okay?”
“You too.” Sawyer turned to leave.
“Hey-” Matt called out, stepping closer. “Look, I get here pretty early most mornings. I know you’re picking up the math on your own, but if you ever want some more help, you know, figuring out how to approach the lesson, I can give you any tips I know on how to explain it more clearly, or little tricks of the trade.”
Sawyer took a breath. “You sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to be any more of a bother.”
Matt shook his head. “Stop by my room when you get here. I’ll look over what you’re doing tomorrow and see what we can come up with.”
Sawyer’s smile was quick and bright. “You bet. I’ll see you then. And,” he bent his head, almost shy. “Thanks.”
Sawyer shook his head and walked away from the whiteboard, handing his dry erase marker back to Matt. “This is awful. I don’t want to teach it. I’m calling Curtis and quitting right now, I mean it.”
Matt sighed, ignoring Sawyer’s over-reacting as he erased his first example off the white board. Teaching inequalities was grueling in the best of circumstances, something he himself hadn’t ever enjoyed. Explaining how to model inequalities on a number line when you yourself weren’t comfortable with the concept was a nightmare. “It’s not a barrel of laughs, yeah. But it’s an expectation of the seventh-grade curriculum. Equations and inequalities.” He gave Sawyer a knowing look. “You can teach them. You can do it,” Matt told him. “And soon I hope, because the bell is going to ring in fifteen minutes.”
Sawyer glanced up at him, disbelief in his eyes. “I mean, equations, that makes sense. X equals three. It all balances out, all the numbers on one side, the letter on the other. I can explain that. I can show that on a number line. But inequalities?” He shook his head again. “I’m on their side. I’ve never had to use this as an adult. It’s useless.”
Matt took a deep breath. He taught thirteen-year-olds, he could teach this twenty-something. “Okay, watch. You cook, right?”
Sawyer’s lips quirked. “I’ve occasionally fried up some bacon.”
Matt stared. “Right,” he began. “Okay, so let’s say that you’re making bacon for breakfast, and each of us will eat at least four pieces. At least,” he emphasized. Using his marker, he set up the problem on the board. “4x means four pieces per person. If x equals 2, then that means eight pieces of bacon.” He paused, checking if Sawyer was following along. “But 4x = 8 is not the right answer, is it?”
Sawyer grinned at him. “I’m still processing the idea that I’m making breakfast for you,” he snickered, folding his arms.
“Stop.” Matt shook his head, but he couldn’t help grinning at that. “How do you answer this? Is the answer 4x = 8?”
Sawyer stared at the number line. “It’s at least four pieces. That means there’s more than one right answer, so it’s an inequality.” Matt ignored how Sawyer’s fingers glided over his as he took the marker from Matt’s hand. Sawyer erased the top line from the equals sign and replaced it with a greater than sign.
Matt beamed. “Now the number line.”
Sawyer drew a crude number line on the board, hash marks for numbers one through ten. “What numbers satisfy this rule?” Matt pointed at the board. “Draw it.”
Sawyer looked at the board carefully. “You put a closed circle under the eight-”
“Why?” Matt asked.
Sawyer pointed at the line under the greater than sign. “Because it could be equal to eight.”
“Yes.” Matt picked up another marker and drew a closed circle under the eight. “Next?” he asked. “What other numbers make this inequality true?”
“Nine and ten,” Sawyer answered.
Matt drew an arrow in that direction, then looked at Sawyer. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Sawyer shook his head again. “It’s easy when you’re standing up there and pointing out the obvious.”
“And it shall be easy for them when you do the same.”
Sawyer scrubbed his face with one hand. “For the record, I didn’t have to do this as a kid, and I turned out okay.”
“For fuck’s sake, Sawyer,” Matt murmured as he erased the board. “Don’t tell them that.”
The eighth-grade football team’s first district game of the year was at home. Clint coached the seventh-grade team who played away, so Matt worked with Paul on the sidelines. It was a hot Texas September afternoon, so besides helping take care of the defense, Matt made certain the kids stayed hydrated when they ran off the field.
It was a good crowd too, the bleachers filled with parents and a sizable student section who came out to cheer on their team. They’d been trying out a new quarterback, but the team was still down by ten at halftime. Matt sat down, checking his phone and texting Clint to see how the seventh graders were faring.
“Coach?” Matt looked up and saw Melissa, one of his students from 1st period standing in front of him, holding two soft drinks and two bags of chips. “Mr. Evans said to give these to the coaches.” Melissa glanced over at Coach Paul before smiling at him and running back to the tent.
Life, Love, and Other Inequalities Page 3