See Me After Class(90)

“Congratulations, you made it through your first chaperoning job,” Gunner says, coming up to me. “You did great.”

“Thanks. I mean, I didn’t really do much.”

“Your presence alone is what makes the kids behave.” Gunner leans in and asks, “Was Arlo an ass to you the entire time?”

“No, he was actually really nice,” I say.

Arlo went to help Nyema make sure kids were getting into their rides safely, while I stayed back and helped the others cleaning up. We didn’t have to do much since the custodial staff will be coming in, but we wanted to try to help.

“What did you say? Arlo was nice?” Gunner blinks a few times. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Yes.” I chuckle. “Trust me, I’m as shocked as you, but he was nice.”

“Well, color me surprised. He was bitching to me all week about chaperoning, and when Nyema wanted me to pair you two up, I felt my ass clench in horror.”

I laugh out loud. “Well, nothing to worry about. We got along and there was no fighting.”

“Fascinating. Maybe you two are growing up.”

“One can only hope.” I glance around the gym. Gunner and I the only ones left. “Are we able to leave?”

“Oh, yeah.” He chuckles. “Sorry. Take off. I have to meet up with Nyema real quick and then I’m going to head home, but not before stopping at Dairy Queen and grabbing a Blizzard.”

“A Blizzard, really?”

“Hey, I earned it.” He chuckles. “After every dance I get one. It’s congratulating myself on a job well done.”

“Smart. I might have to consider something similar. Have a good night, Gunner.”

“You too, and, hey, Greer?”

“Yeah?” I look over my shoulder.

“Arlo isn’t as sneaky as he thinks he is. We know about Chuckie.”

My eyes widen and panic ensues. “Gunner, he—”

“I know. We know.” He gives me a curt nod. “Nyema assumes Arlo took care of it?”

“Twenty extra hours of community service.”

“Twenty, damn. Nyema will be pleased.” He waves. “Have a good night, Greer.”

“You too.”

Walking out of the gym and toward the teachers’ parking lot, I take in the quiet school hallway. The lined-up lockers painted teal, the odd teal tiles that are scattered through the weaving of the tiled floors. The bulletin boards, the bullet-resistant doors that lead to classrooms, no longer with windows but with heavy-duty locks to prevent anyone from getting in if, God forbid, that ever happened.

It’s peaceful, beautiful almost, knowing that minds are shaped within these walls and I have a part in it.

Arlo’s gesture to Chuckie tonight touched me.

There’s teaching a lesson.

And there’s knowing how to teach a lesson.

Arlo could have taken the easy route and taken Chuckie to Principal Dewitt, who then would have escorted him to her office, where they would have called his parents. Given the situation, Chuckie’s dad could have been drinking, and he could have driven drunk to come to the school, which offers up a million different possible outcomes. Chuckie could have gone home and been abused.

Instead, Arlo quietly dealt with the situation. After Chuckie left, he pulled Louis and Brennan to the side as well and offered them the same penance, which they gladly took.

Some might disagree with how Arlo handled the situation. They might say they need to learn real consequences, but I also think we all make dumb mistakes. The grace we find in each other will go a long way. And that’s not really something you learn in high school. It’s something you learn through living life. Not simply following scripts from a textbook. And Arlo’s right. That gives a student an advantage in how he or she approaches future mistakes. Invaluable life lessons.

I push through the doors and allow myself to take in a deep breath of the chilly night air. Clear sky, stars bright up above, the humid static air of the gym quickly wilting off me.

“Hey.” I look to the right, spotting Arlo as he approaches. “Wait up.”

I slow down, and when he catches up, he gives me a cute smile. “You made it through your first chaperoning.”

“That’s what Gunner just said. You both make it seem like these are more traumatic than what I experienced tonight.”

“Trust me, they used to be a shitshow, but Gunner and Nyema have put a lot of rules and regulations into place. It shows, because tonight was easier than before. I’ll make a note to have them sweep the bleachers before the students filter in next time.”

“Smart.”

“You spoke to Gunner?”

“Yeah . . . he knows.”

“Figured.” We start walking toward the cars again. “Does Nyema know?”

“Of course, but he said she trusts you took care of it.”

“Good.”

“So, does everyone know about Chuckie? And how do you find out about that stuff?”

“Over time. You get to know the students. We found out about Chuckie when I happened to teach one junior-level class last year. He was in it, and he was always falling asleep. I finally got him to confide in me that his dad was an alcoholic. His dad would spend countless hours in the middle of the night raging and throwing furniture around the house. Chuckie wasn’t getting any sleep.”