Me: Crazier than you might imagine.
Him: Do tell.
Me: I’ll tell you the full story another time. But basically, my other job didn’t work out and now I’m teaching at an English school. It’s this big franchise called Starlight.
Him: Oh right. So does that mean you might not be there for as long now?
Me: Maybe. But I kind of like it here.
Him: Oh.
I realise I might have come across as a little uncaring. Quick, what can I say?
Me: It would be nice to hang out with you properly though. Hopefully I’ll be home in a few months.
Him: That’s good to hear.
Me: Sorry about the terrible timing.
Him: It’s OK. Whatever will be, will be.
Me: I like your attitude.
Him: So, tell me about where you’re staying. Do you live alone?
Me: No. I have a roommate.
Him: What’s she like?
Um.
Me: Actually it’s a guy. But he has a girlfriend. She’s here right now as a matter of fact.
Him: Hmm. So is it weird sharing an apartment with a random guy?
Me: I guess, a bit. But he’s Australian so we have some stuff in common.
Him: I think I’m a bit jealous – do I have anything to worry about?
I smile. Getting possessive already?
Me: No, of course not. And what do you mean ‘do you have anything to worry about?’
Him: Isn’t it obvious?
Me: No.
It is, kind of. I just want him to actually say it.
Him: I think you’re cute. I thought it from the moment I met you at the bar, and when I saw you at the fashion show. I was upset when you disappeared that night, so I made your friend Holly give me your details so I could track you down on here. I just wanted to talk to you again.
Ah, so it was Holly. I owe her one.
Me: Aw shucks.
Him: I can’t stop thinking about you.
Me: Stop it! You’re making me blush now.
Him: Good.
Me: I thought you were pretty cute too.
Him: God I wish you were here now.
Me: I know. Me too.
Him: Come home then!
Me: I can’t. I just started this job.
Him: So quit.
Me: I can’t. But I promise I’ll only stay for a few months. Could you maybe wait that long?
Him: I think I can manage.
Me: I’m glad.
“Who’s Luke?” A voice behind me interrupts.
I swivel around. “Miki! What are you doing? Please get out of my room.”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“It’s none of your business. Go on. Leave.”
“He sounds like your boyfriend,” she smirks.
“Miki!”
“Fine!” She walks out with exaggerated slowness.
I turn back to the screen.
Him: Hello?
Me: Sorry, my roommate’s crazy girlfriend was eavesdropping.
Him: Ah. Well I better go anyway. I’m so glad we’ve been able to chat.
Me: Me too. Hey what’s your phone number? Maybe I can call you next time.
Him: I’ll e-mail it to you when I find it on my phone. I can never remember it off the top of my head.
Me: OK. Talk to you later!
Him: Sweet dreams.
Me: Bye!
I feel all warm and fuzzy again. I’m seriously contemplating leaving on the first available flight after my salary advance comes through. But Luke can wait. Things are just starting to work out here.
So, do I have an official long distance boyfriend now? I wonder if he thinks we’re exclusive. It sounded like it from what he was saying.
I’m all giggly. Like when I used to have a crush on a boy in high school and I had to wait all summer holidays to see him again.
On another note, I think I’m going to have to get a lock for my bedroom door. I don’t want Miki coming in whenever she feels like it.
I push my suitcase up against the door and lie down. I’m going to sleep well tonight.
TWENTY-ONE
The next morning, I check my messages to see if Luke has sent me his phone number. He has! And he says how much he misses me too. What a sweetie. A part of me wonders how he can really miss me, considering we’ve never spent any length of time together in person, but I guess it’s the thought that counts.
There’s also a message from Dad saying they just got back from their holiday (the one they failed to tell me about beforehand) and Mum broke her ankle when they went hiking in the Daintree. She has to be in a cast for six to eight weeks and then wear a special bandage for a few months after that. Apparently she may even have to have an operation if it doesn’t heal properly. So he thinks they probably won’t be able to come and visit me now.
Oh well. At this rate, I might be home in a couple of months anyway. I might even be back before my birthday at the beginning of October.
I notice I’m the only one at home when I go out into the living room. I thought I heard Zac and Miki talking late last night, but maybe they went out. Or maybe they left really early this morning.
I would love to know what Miki’s parents think of the noises coming from her room when Zac stays over. If he ever stays over. I wonder if that kind of thing is accepted here. With the quality of wall insulation in this country, you wouldn’t think there’d be much privacy. Where would they go instead? I’ll have to ask Zac later. Maybe.
It’s my second day at school. Nigel said we have to do three days of training and then we’re qualified. It seems a bit premature to me. I mean, after just twenty hours of theory and a few pretend lessons, I’m all of a sudden supposed to be a teacher? Imagine if it was like that at home! You’d have all kinds of weirdos working as teachers. Our education system would be…well…I guess it’s already in a pretty bad state. But I’m sure it would be even worse if you didn’t have to study for a few years first.
I’ve started to notice that all the teachers at my school have a strange universal accent. A bit like David’s—but not so bad. I wonder if I’ll get it soon. I hope not.
I start at eleven-thirty again. When I’m put on the proper schedule I’ll only have to work 5pm to 9pm, Monday to Friday. Zac does the same hours, so we should be able to commute together. Admittedly, I won’t be rolling in cash, but it should be enough to survive on—and I’ll be able to save for my ticket back to Oz.
I get to school early, because I want to make sure I’m ready. I can’t be losing it like I did with the girls yesterday. Today I’m going to be the epitome of calm—nothing will rattle me.
We have a vending machine in our staff room, so I grab a drink before Nigel arrives. I’ve been trying out all the different beverages to see if I discover anything interesting. The one I’ve picked today is called Dekavita C. I had one the other day called Bikkle that tasted like one of those miniature acidophilus drinks you get at home—but it was in a huge bottle. I’ve crossed that one off my list.
It was already really hot outside and I’m quite thirsty—so I drink the Dekavita C in a few gulps. It’s only after I’ve finished it that the taste reminds me of something I’ve had before.
Something kind of mediciney.
Oh. Now I remember. Trust me to pick the Red Bull on the one day I need to relax.
Jeff and I are waiting when Nigel arrives. He looks at me nervously, but I can’t figure out why at first. Then he glances at the floor and I realise I’m tapping my foot really fast. I have so much energy all of a sudden. I want to run around in circles and jump up and down. How much caffeine do they put in that stuff?
Jeff looks jittery too. I wonder if he’s been drinking Dekavita C as well. Probably not. I think that’s just his nature. But he did so well yesterday. I don’t understand what he’s so worried about.
“Okay, today we’re going to go through the kids and babies lessons.”
Babies?
I put up my hand. “Nigel? When you say babies, do you mean like three and four year olds? Because I would have thought they’d more likely be classified as toddlers.”
“No, I mean babies. A lot of parents bring their one year olds along to classes.”
“But one year olds can’t even speak their own language, can they?” Gosh, isn’t that a bit exploitative?
“It’s never too early to start learning. And the Japanese like their children to be well educated.”
How can I possibly teach a baby to speak English? This should be interesting.
***
I am so not a baby person. I can’t believe Nigel threw me in here with six babies under the age of two. I know their mothers are present, but I still feel responsible. Not to mention a bit of a fraud. Nigel said all I have to do is sing along with the stereo and read the words on the book in front of me but I don’t trust myself. An overly perky chipmunk voice comes on the stereo. “If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands…” I paste on an artificial grin and clap my hands.
I have never felt so stupid in my life.
Nigel and Jeff watch from the door. Nigel gives me a thumbs-up. Jeff grimaces. I wonder if it’s because I’m doing a terrible job, or because he knows that he has to go next.
After a few minutes, despite myself, I start to relax a bit. I’m sure this would be fun if I’d had more experience with babies beforehand. It’s just that I don’t know anyone who has kids. All my friends back home are career minded and don’t want to start families until their thirties.
But I can kind of see the appeal. At least three of the babies are smiling and joining in. Only one little boy looks like he wants to run out of the room. The other two are a bit dazed and letting their mums work their arms like string puppets.
By the end, I feel like I at least made a good show of it. I’m not convinced that singing nursery rhymes is really doing much for their education, but at least I’m getting paid.
Jeff has a go and is even better at this than with the adult lessons. I am so jealous. He has all the babies smiling the second he enters the room. He could get a job as backup for The Wiggles. He sings and dances along to the music as if he really means it. Nigel didn’t say we had to dance but Jeff seems to have added that element of his own accord. Nigel is so impressed that he forgets to write notes on his assessment sheet. I feel a bit put out.
We head back to the training room following Jeff’s performance. Nigel is beaming, but Jeff is back to his meek self. I don’t get it.
“Jeff—that was exceptional. You’re certainly a natural at this. I might even have a word to the course writers about incorporating some of your dance moves into the next syllabus. It definitely helped with the children’s enthusiasm.”
Jeff blushes. “I didn’t even realise I was dancing.”
Sure you didn’t, I think dryly. This is all just one big game to you, isn’t it buddy? Mr Golden Child.
“Jess, you were good too. It can take some getting used to, but I think you’ll do fine.”
Gee thanks. Don’t go overboard with the praise or anything.
“Okay, well we’ll leave it there for now and do an older kids lesson when we get back. We’ll finish with another adult lesson this afternoon.”
I’m already over it. I know it’s supposed to be easy and maybe even a bit of fun, but I’m just not in the mood. I have a headache from the caffeine in the Dekavita C and I’m feeling grumpy that Jeff keeps showing me up. I’m secretly glad he’s going to be teaching at a different branch once training is finished.
I go and sit in the corner of the staff room and type a few e-mails on my phone. I suddenly miss my gang. I write a message to Paul, and tell him to say hi to Sam and Holly for me. I wonder how they’re all doing.
Alex has written a message saying I should call him again soon. He’s not big on e-mails. He once told me he gets so many at work that he doesn’t want to contribute to the amount of electronic rubbish in cyberspace. I can kind of understand—but it would be much easier if he made the exception for me. Particularly now that I’m overseas.
Alana finishes a lesson and sits next to me to mark her students’ files. There’s a ten minute break between each lesson, but it doesn’t seem quite long enough. I don’t know how I’m going to intelligently comment on three or four students and then find the files for my next lesson, PLUS choose a topic that no one has done yet. I watch Alana lazily writing a bunch of generic words on her files. ‘Good job…Could try harder…Very eager…’
She sees me reading over her shoulder and shrugs. “I zoned out halfway through the lesson, so I have no idea what anyone said. No one reads these anyway unless there are lots of negative comments.”
“But it all seems so structured in the training.”
“Yeah, don’t worry about that. As soon as your training is over, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
“Really?”
“Who’s going to know?”
“But won’t the students complain if you don’t do a good job?”
“Half of them don’t care. The school kids aren’t paying attention anyway, and most of the adults are forced to come here as part of their job requirement to learn English.”
“Oh. So what’s the point then?”
“There is none. Don’t think about it too much. It’s easy money. Just look forward to your pay cheque at the end of the month.”
“Right.”
“Hey, I gotta go.” She stands up as a bell chimes. “Next lesson’s about to start.”
I trudge back to the training room, feeling a bit flat. Why bother making an effort if no one seems to care? Except for Nigel, it seems. And Jeff. I take my seat and listen half-heartedly.
***
After my final lesson, I hang around until Alana and the others finish. They’re all going to a little Italian restaurant downstairs for a late dinner and some drinks. I stand outside and lean over the railing looking down into the courtyard of the shopping centre. It’s still fairly crowded, even at 9pm.
My kids lesson went okay. And my adults one went really well. At least I thought so, considering one of my students fell asleep. I was really polite, not even getting upset. I simply asked one of the students to rouse him for me. Nigel said I was very respectful and awarded me top marks. Jeff thought it was funny. Typically, he got perfect students that all responded well to his alter-ego.
I can hear Alana from a mile away. She yells goodbye to the girls at reception and we go downstairs. Grover, Zac and a few others follow soon after.
We find a table near the back of the restaurant and Alana orders five bottles of red wine straight up. There’s only eight of us. I guess I should brace myself for a big night.
“So guys,” Alana starts. “Jess here is feeling a bit disillusioned about Starlight. She thought she’d be making a difference educating all these lovely Japanese people, but found out what it’s really like today.”
“Don’t worry,” Grover pipes up. “It’s not all bad. I play a game with myself to see how little I actually have to do.”
“Me too!” Alana laughs.
Zac looks uncomfortable.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Oh, I forgot about Mr Noble here,” Alana teases. “He actually does think he’s making a difference.”
I smile. At least someone does.
“Anyway, I’m bored of talking about school. Is everyone ready for our big adventure on the eleventh?”
I look around puzzled. “What adventure?”
“Zac! Haven’t you told her yet?” Alana admonishes him.
“I haven’t had a chance,” he protests.
“Well, maybe we should keep it a surprise then.”
“No, tell me!” I yelp.
“No, I think we’ll wait now. All you need to know is to be ready with your bike next Saturday, and bring a change of clothes.”
“But I don’t have a bike!”
�
�Get one, then. They cost almost nothing.”
“But where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I really wish you’d tell me.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”
This is so unfair. Everyone knows but me. I try to get Zac to cave but he seems to enjoy holding this over me. And Grover too. The others look too scared to defy Alana so they just ignore me when I ask what’s going on.
“Here,” Alana says, filling up my wine glass. “Keep drinking and you’ll soon forget we even had this conversation.”
***
She’s right. More than a bottle later, I’m having a great time. I can’t remember why I was so grumpy earlier on. I love my new friends. They’re so funny.
Alana and Zac sympathise with me when I explain the full story of my time at Bella.
“I knew that David guy was a tosser,” Alana spits. “You should get revenge.”
“Yeah, that would be nice. But how?”
“I don’t know. Can’t you somehow get your file back and sabotage it or something?”
“I don’t think so,” I say gloomily. “They’ve probably already implemented half of it already.”
“You know, I heard about this guy once who got fired for looking at porn on his computer,” Zac muses. “Could you sneak in and bookmark a bunch of dodgy sites on his PC?”
“I don’t know. That seems a bit risky. I wish I was a hacker or something…”
Something niggles at the back of my brain.
“Hey Alana, do you think you could ask Sarah to tell you when David’s birthday is?”
“Maybe. But why?”
“I have a plan.”
“I’ll need a reason.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
She wrinkles her brow for a moment.
“Hey, I know how we can get it.”
“How?”
“I can log onto Sarah’s Facebook account and look at her friend list. I know her password because she asked me to look something up for her one day when she was at work. I’m pretty sure David’s on there.”
“I don’t know. This is maybe going a bit far. It’s one thing to try and sabotage David, but wouldn’t Sarah get mad if she knew you were in her stuff? And what’s she doing with David as a friend anyway?”
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