by Jerry Cole
"Don't worry, he won't be sharing classes with you for long. Soon enough you won't have to worry about him at all," Mrs. Heeley said.
"Well, I'd best get back to class, anyway," he replied. "I am sorry to have wasted your time, Mrs. Heeley.
"So you should be," she replied, "and apologize to Mr. Thompson too, for abandoning him."
What did she mean with all that? "Soon enough he won't have to worry about Nate at all?" That was pretty damn ominous, especially coming from someone who had just lectured him about life not being a movie. She probably meant nothing by it. Surely just that they would soon be in different classrooms. Yet, Victor couldn't help but feel it was more hostile.
He knew she didn't like him. He knew she tolerated him because the kids got good grades and his parents had paid the board a pretty decent sum to make sure he was given a position somewhere in Riverdale. He knew she would do anything at all to swap him for someone who annoyed her a little bit less, who scared the parents a whole lot less...
Walking back into the classroom, Victor was surprised to see how well Nate had taken over. The young man had assigned the tasks and was helping the kids. Far from anxious and struggling, Nate was happy and thriving.
Nate had not noticed Victor return, he had his back to the door and was leaning over a table, helping a kid position a ruler to measure the radius of one of the circles on the sheet, explaining something or other in a low voice. He seemed so relaxed, and the kid seemed so interested, so happy to have the attention of this kind new teacher.
Just as Nate stood up straight, another child called him over, and he also helped them. The room was far quieter than Victor ever remembered it being.
For a moment, Victor felt a little tug at his heart strings. Nate looked so lovely, so warm, gentle and happy. As Nate realized Victor was watching, he seemed a little nervous, but still smiled and carried on helping the children as Victor returned to his desk at the front of the class. It was kind of nice, being able to walk out like that and know everything would be well. Normally when he left the room, all hell would break loose. So, it was quite a difference to see the kids working so hard for Nate.
Victor knew he couldn't get used to it. One way or another Nate was not going to be in that class forever. It was nice while it lasted, though.
Then the fear crept up yet again. Nate was a natural. He would be able to take over effortlessly if he had to… when he had to.
No wonder Mrs. Heeley had chosen Nate, of all people, to take part in the program. He was the sort of person who, in another life, would have carried on training and got a degree in education. The sort of person, who in times before college degrees, would have simply walked into a school and got the job. He was that talented, that bright, that empathic and fun-loving and generally perfect. He had all but taken over Victor's class already, and it was only the second class of the day.
Victor sat down at his desk, seeing no reason to interrupt Nate. In fact, this could work to Victor's own advantage. He could set a trap. He could leave Nate to his own devices and simply keep a record of everything the young man did wrong. After all, so much natural talent was great, but he wouldn't know about certain rules, such as not engaging in physical contact with students, or enforcing dress code violations. He would not be aware of how to catch cheating, or disturbances. He might be the most natural teacher in the world, but there were some things you could never be taught.
Victor felt comfortable now he realized that, no matter what, sooner or later Nate would screw up. Then, Victor would be there to see it… and note it. He would make a report. Mrs. Heeley could no doubt excuse some of it, but if Victor presented repeat issues, mistakes that were not corrected, a few pages of them, then there would be no question that Nate was simply not ready to be in the classroom.
If the report was extensive enough, Victor would probably be able to get rid of the new guy for good. That would be for the best, as it seemed that, with Nate's intellect and hard work, he'd probably be able to address any problems rather quickly. If he were gone, then the threat would be gone too. So Nate had to go.
It felt like a horrible, vindictive thing to do… and it was. But this wasn't about Nate. This was about Victor preserving his job and pride. Nate was just a case of friendly fire, a fellow educator who was going to have to be sacrificed in order for Victor to do well.
So, Victor carried out his plan. He directed Nate loosely, didn't tell him anything that was wrong, but did not offer more advice than the bare minimum. Every time Nate did something wrong, however minor, he noted it down. It was starting to feel like the plan would go fairly smoothly after all.
When morning break time came, Victor felt much more his usual self, much less worried about his job and the future.
In the break room, Nate sat down next to Victor. "I don't know anyone here. I figured we may as well have coffee together, if you don't mind."
Victor nodded. "Sure thing, it's nice to have a bit of company for a change."
"Doesn't anyone else sit with you?" Nate asked.
Victor shrugged. "Do I look like the sort of person everyone is excited to sit with?"
"I guess not," Nate replied. "I just figured... you're a nice guy. You're friendly. I thought we were all out of high school and could maybe look beyond appearances."
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Victor remarked. "But the world is a strange and horrible place."
"Yeah, it is," Nate said, his face falling a little.
"How come you haven't studied education?" Victor asked, pursing his lips a little. He didn't need this intrusion. Not today. Not here. Not now. He sighed.
"No more scholarship money," Nate replied. "I got one for math, they said I'd get one for education too, and I didn't."
Victor nodded. "Any particular reason you need a scholarship? If it's not too personal."
"I don't have much money, or many opportunities. I come from downtown. Not the nice downtown, the other one," Nate said.
Victor was a little shocked. He knew where Nate was referring to, and very few kids there made anything of themselves. The odds were stacked against them. "Wow. I hear schools aren't that great there."
"They're not. I just worked hard and spent all my money on books. I made it about my education, all of it, all my life, about education," Nate said.
Victor nodded. "I'm surprised, though. If I hadn't been basically forced to study until college, I would have just slacked off all day. I mean, after high school I realized how much I loved math, but I'd have dropped out long before then if my parents hadn't made me."
"Well, it was harder being gay out there. So, I guess being a bookworm just kept me out of too much trouble," Nate said. "I wanted to slack off and go and have fun. But there was no fun to be had. Not when nobody would hang out with you because you like guys."
"Well that's a coincidence, we finally have something in common," Victor replied.
"You're gay?" Nate asked with the slight excitement of someone seeing an old friend in the crowd.
"Sort of. I'm bi," Victor said with a smile.
"Then you know what it's like, right?" Nate asked.
Victor could see the emotion in Nate's eyes. "Yeah, I do."
This was going to make it so much harder. They had so much in common, so many things to connect over. They were both gay, they were both passionate about mathematics and teaching, they were both outcasts in their own worlds. It wasn't fair. Nate was exactly the sort of person who should be Victor's friend, not his rival, and definitely not his replacement.
"Are you okay? You look kind of pissed off," Nate said, raising an eyebrow.
Victor smiled and shrugged. "I guess I don't feel like I need another math teacher here, that's all. It feels weird for you to be here."
Nate nodded. "I get that. It's been only you for a while, right? You'll get used to me. Or I'll get on with my work and you'll only have to put up with me in here, not in the classroom."
"What's your goal in teaching?" Victor ask
ed. "Want to be a high school teacher? Department head? Principal?"
Nate shook his head. "Nah, just a math teacher. I want to help more kids like me."
Victor felt his heart sink a bit. This guy didn't want Victor's job. He just wanted to get on with his life, on his own terms.
It really wasn't fair that Nate had to go.
Chapter Four
Nate really didn't understand this guy. They had things in common. They should be able to get along and work together. Yet Victor seemed to be oddly cold. He was wrapped up in his own little world, completely distracted, unwilling or unable to talk with Nate.
It wasn't like there was something different about Victor. He would smile and react, and then repress his own emotional responses, like he couldn't permit himself to be friendly. Nate had seen this before, but usually in kids, when they were being bullied, not in adult men who, as far as Nate could tell, were doing pretty well for themselves.
Nate shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Victor was so lovely to look at. So handsome and relaxed, so stoic and blunt. He was beautiful. He moved like he was some sort of an angel or a fairyland creature, so light and yet with so much purpose. His brown eyes were smooth and warm like an inviting fire on a Winter's night. His body was strong, with just enough muscle to be a feast for the eyes, but slim enough to not ruin the delicacy of his movements, or the lightness of his overall appearance. The rare times he smiled, it felt like a ray of sunshine right into Nate's heart, and Nate did all he could to get more and more smiles out of Victor.
Victor's fashion sense was just the cherry on top. With his clothing somewhere between punk and otherworldly and the tattoos all over his skin, Victor was everything Nate never had a chance to be. He was edgy, he was over the top, he was a rebel, and quirky. He was all those things Nate had wanted to be as a boy.
Who could be a rebellious kid in punk clothes, covered in tattoos, in an area known for violence and limited cultural options? Best case scenario, Nate would have been treated like a creep. Worst case scenario he might have been confused for a gang member and shot by either a rival gang or a police officer. Young black men from his neighborhood did not dress in a "menacing" way, and did not get tattoos. Not if they wanted to stay out of trouble. Not if they wanted to live.
It wasn't fair, but it was how it was. Nate needed to be a proper gentleman. His mother had taught him that from a young age, and it did not take a lot to reinforce that perspective. Seeing a friend turned away from a minimum wage job because he had a teardrop tattoo on his cheek, or hearing of the neighbor getting shot in the leg because his band t-shirt looked like the colors of a local gang, was all it took to show Nate that his mother was right. He had to keep his head down, his hair short, his skin clear of tattoos, his clothes smart and conservative. He had to fit in. He had to look the way society demanded him to look.
Victor offered a little glimmer of hope, the possibility that someone could be more than just what society expected of them. He was hope. Victor, of course, had the advantage of being a white man from the suburbs. Even so, Nate would not have expected a teacher to get away with looking the way Victor did. Yet Mrs. Heeley had hired Victor, and spoke nothing but praise of him. Even though the other teachers did not like him, they respected him. The kids loved him.
If Victor could be praised, respected, and loved even looking and acting the way he did, then perhaps Nate could too one day.
Perhaps if he stuck at it long enough, worked at it for long enough, Nate, too, could be as unconventional as he wanted. He could build himself a reputation for what he did, for his actions, his skills and his personality. When people judged him based on who he was as a person, perhaps then he could wear leather jackets or pink shirts. Perhaps then he could get a tattoo or a piercing, wear his hair long and natural, show up to work in jewel-colored t-shirts and jeans… just like he wanted.
However, that could wait. For now, Nate needed to try and fit in as much as he could, to be as normal as possible so nobody would think he was any weirder than necessary. He was already considered an odd person, an outsider in every community he ever tried to join. He was not welcomed by the community he grew up in for being gay and nerdy. He was not welcomed by the wider society for being gay and black. He was not welcomed by the other kids at college for being nerdy and looking after his family. He was not welcomed anywhere, by anyone, except at home by his family.
Maybe he had found a community in teaching that would support him and love him whatever he did. Maybe one day he could contemplate something as radical or as eccentric as a piercing. For now though, it was nice to live it vicariously through Victor.
Of course, to be able to be so eccentric, Victor was the most fantastic teacher. It inspired Nate even more to work hard and impress everyone, especially Victor. Everything Victor did seemed effortless. Every question that was asked received an answer, always quickly, sometimes in greater depth. If a kid genuinely didn't understand something, Victor could go through a hundred different ways of getting the necessary result, all of which would work for any identical problem, all of which had their merits, until the kid found one they were comfortable with.
Nate never remembered having teachers like that in school. Sure, he remembered having good teachers. Teachers who were brighter or more educated than the rest, who could always answer any question. Teachers who would try and both simplify and expand explanations. Teachers who would sit down with a kid and tirelessly work until the kid understood the question. They were good teachers, but none of them combined all three traits like Victor did. None were quite as good as Victor. None as talented, or as devoted.
Victor's lesson plans and homework sheets were flawless. He followed the book closely, and when a kid skipped ahead he would explain what gaps that would leave in their knowledge. When a kid seemed to be trying their best, even if they only achieved twenty percent accuracy, he would congratulate them, and when they were slacking, even if they achieved eighty percent accuracy, he would remind them they could do better. His combination of outlandish and conventional behavior were just what the kids needed.
They seemed to respect him, even if they did not all like him. The surprising thing to Nate was how many kids did like Victor. Other than the usual three or four in the back who would not like any authority figure ever, the rest seemed fairly relaxed and cheerful in his classroom. As long as Victor was happy, they seemed happy also. It was odd to see how comfortable kids were with a person like Victor, who adults seemed so... uncomfortable around.
All these observations, combined with the first wave of experience in the classroom, kept Nate busy all day. Before he knew it, time had ran out. And he had loved every minute.
As he prepared to go home after his first whirlwind of a day, Nate wanted to embrace the man who had taught him so much. Although they were just packing up in the teachers' lounge, Nate found Victor's movements to be so lovely to watch, so purposeful and graceful. Victor turned, catching Nate staring. Nate smiled nervously. Victor smiled back, but said nothing, returning to his books, which he was sorting at his workstation, ready for the next day.
Nate couldn't help but feel a little let down by the coldness with which Victor treated him.
All Nate could think was that maybe Victor took some time to warm up to people. After all, a lot of outsiders and outcasts were like that. They were used to being mistreated or taken advantage of and needed to make sure they could trust someone before getting to like them.
Nate felt bad for Victor. He, too, had experienced that sort of rejection, and he knew that not everyone recovered from it. But, then again, shouldn't that be another thing for them to bond over? Given time, Victor should definitely open up, but Nate was not so sure.
Another little fear lingered in the back of his mind. Perhaps it wasn't about Victor at all. Perhaps it was Nate himself who was the problem. Perhaps he was being too clingy, too eager, too emotional? After all, Victor was all the opposite of that. He was quiet, reserved, polite and relaxed.
Nate kept trying to tease some sort of childish excitement out of a man who probably had none of it in him. He was trying to coax friendship out of a man who probably only wanted to get on with his job without a crazy coworker trying to suddenly become his best friend.
Nate wished he could feel disappointed, but he couldn't. It was something he was used to, after all, something he had learned to expect.
It had always been that way, his whole damn life. He would develop a crush on someone, or befriend someone, and they would drift away uneasily, as though actively repelled by his every effort to join them.
It hurt every time. How could it not hurt, to never have had a best friend outside his family, a group of close friends, or even a boyfriend? But he wasn't disappointed any more. People didn't always want to get to know him. And nobody had to. Most people already had more than enough friends to hang out with and care for. Some didn't want any friends at all in the first place. Some, like Nate, just never made friends.
So, from his own experiences, Nate realized that Victor was probably one of those people who chose to keep few friends. For now Nate had to assume he was just one of those people who didn't have friends. Not everyone could remain friendless forever, so perhaps one day his time would come. Still, it hurt. He wanted friends. He wanted company. People his own age to spend time with having fun, like everyone else seemed to do. Not just his relatives and coworkers, people who had no choice in being around him.
Not to say he wasn't grateful for his family. In fact, as he drove home from work he felt his heart brimming with gratitude that he had such a happy, loving family waiting for him. He would never truly be alone as long as he had them.
"Hey Mom," he said, leaning over, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. She always felt so thin to him. He always worried about her. "How'd your day go? All good, no crazy clients?"
She rolled her eyes. "Don't even ask. It will take at least a bottle of wine to forget all the idiots at the salon today. Some days it almost makes me glad I'm not a technician."