Newbie by Jo Noelle

with lessons. I like the room—it has high ceilings, lots of natural light and storage space. The colors are nice—easy to look at all day.” I realize I’m starting to babble, but am unable to stop the next thought. “The school grounds are beautiful—flowers everywhere. I’ll miss them when the snow falls. Have you noticed that every window has a little garden by it? Mr. Samson—my kids call him Mr. Sam—takes good care of them. We never even have weeds. My dad would have liked the grounds around this school. He gardened, not professionally, just around our house. It looked professional, though. But he died a couple of years ago and the yard isn’t looking great now.” Don’t talk about death, it puts people off. “Sorry. Did it put you off?” Liam smiles and shakes his head. Looking a bit too long at his mouth, I continue, “You have a that little thing under your bottom lip, what is it called? A soul patch? My first kiss had one of those. Oh, um, I guess you know I was older when I had my first kiss. Well I had braces for six years. Over bite, snaggley, twisted teeth, but they’re fine now—great orthodontist. I hope my kids don’t get my teeth. Oh, I’m not thinking about having kids. I’m not even married.” Married? Kids? Could I be more awkward?
    Melissa steps up and asks if it’s time for the Reading Buddies to go back to their class so they can have some time for music before lunch. Oh, yes. Bless that child!
    They leave, and I reflect on the conversation. Let’s see, I started off with I’m incompetent, moved on to a real estate open house tour of my classroom, and finished up by rambling insanely through my memories and embarrassing secrets. Great first impression—okay, third impression—and they’re not getting better. Did he talk? I hope he talked. Yeah—no, I don’t think so. I didn’t learn anything about him.
    Luckily, I manage not to embarrass myself for the rest of the day.
     

     
    Thankfully, I avoid Liam as I arrive this morning, since I can’t seem to be normal around him. He’s talking with Jan, the fifth-grade teacher he subbed for yesterday, in the front hallway as I enter, and my whole morning is uneventful.
    The students line up outside our classroom door at the end of morning recess. As they come in each child hands me fistfuls of dandelions. Students giggle when I reposition to catch the cascading bunches while the children continue to pile them on me, dozens of yellow flowers. Before long, my arms and hands can hold no more, and dandelions are surrounding me on the floor. Beth is across the hall, also bringing her students in from recess, and throws me a questioning look. I shrug.
    When everyone settles on the rug, and all the dandelions are transferred to my desk— which now looks somewhat like a Rose Bowl float exploded—I say, “Thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.”
    “They’re really from Mr. Wright,” Erin says. I must look confused because Ellie adds, “You know. Liam.” I blush. And his name is really Mr. Wright? How cute is that?
    Random voices call out. “Yeah, he said you like flowers.”
    “It was his idea to give you lots.”
    “I picked flowers all recess for him to give to you.”
    Okay, then I choose to believe they’re from Liam. We continue the morning as usual, but every time I look at the flowers, I feel giddy.
    At lunch, I fill Beth in on the flower story. She responds with appropriately placed oohs and ahhs. We work on lesson plans again completing another week in the planbook, putting me easily through September fourteenth. Beth gives me copies of her monthly calendars of what she wants her students to know. I admit I don’t know what most of it means, and Beth is doing all the work while I listen and copy, but it’s a start. I plan to work on it all weekend and have another week of lesson plans ready to go.
    Three-day weekend starts tomorrow. Woohoo! Happy Labor Day.
     
    September 1, 2007
    Newbie Blog:
     
    Kids