See Me After Class(98)

“Me?”

“From the outset. So, you have nothing to worry about there, okay?”

I can’t help it. I lean across and kiss her. Gently. Affectionately. Because she just showed me enormous kindness and respect. Not sure I deserve that yet. But I want to earn it.

The sailboat picks up speed as we head out of the harbor and into the vast darkness of the impressive lake.

“Have you ever had a favorite student?” Greer asks.

“Yeah. Easily. There are students that take a piece of you every year, ones that you’ll remember, but there’s one student who sticks out above all of them.”

“Tell me about him or her.”

“Her name is Crystal. Crystal Meyers. She was eager and excited to be in an advanced placement class. She played basketball, was the school spirit type, and participated in every themed day the student counsel came up with. She was happy all the time. That was, until she got her first paper back from me and failed.”

“Oh no. You knocked the spirit right out of her with a red pen.”

I chuckle. “I did. She was devastated. That lunch break, she came to my classroom and asked if she could speak with me. Being the asshole that I am, I told her she had five minutes.”

“Ugh, Arlo . . .”

“I know. But I’ve never been one to make friends with students. I wasn’t about to chitchat.”

“Did she speed-talk to you?”

“Basically. It all came out in one sentence. She was confused, didn’t know how she could make the paper better, what she was missing. She just signed a letter of intent to attend University of Connecticut. She received a full-ride for basketball, and she took my class to prepare herself for the higher level of education she’d be facing.”

“Like Blair.”

“Exactly, but where Blair is surrounded by friends and a support system, I quickly realized Crystal wasn’t. She’d come to my classroom almost every lunch break to work on her papers. I didn’t think much of it until I started asking around about her. Other teachers never saw her with anyone.”

“Oh God, she didn’t have any friends.”

I shake my head. “No. She had a few friends on the basketball team, but she never hung out with them. She found solace and friendship in my classroom.”

“Oh Jesus, you’re about to break my heart, aren’t you?”

“Depends. We started hanging out at lunch, and of course, Nyema knew, and would frequently pop in to be there, you know, for child protection laws. Or send another female staff member in her place. We followed policies carefully, although, I never feared that Crystal had any feelings toward me, which Nyema and I both monitored. I watched basketball games so I could relate to her, and we talked about what she should expect when she went to college. When the end of the year came, she invited me to her graduation party.”

“Please tell me you went.”

“I did. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. At the party, she had the ‘most significant people’ in her life that got her to where she was. Her parents, grandparents, her coaches . . . and me.”

“Yup, and here come the tears.” Greer dabs at her eyes.

“They served dinner at a table, and she toasted every single person individually, telling the room how important they were to her.”

“What . . . what did she say about you?” Greer asks, her voice wavering.

“She lifted her glass of sparkling cider to me, looked me in the eyes, and said, ‘Thank you for being the friend I’d never had. Without you, I’d have slipped into another hole of depression. Because of you, I stopped cutting myself, and because of your faith in me, I have confidence going to college.’”

“Oh my God.” Greer pulls away to look me in the eyes. “Arlo.”

I smile softly. “She has no idea how much that meant to me because, frankly, I think I was lost, too. I cherished those lunches with her. We still email back and forth. She’s a junior in college this year. She has a boyfriend who is on the men’s basketball team, and they’ve been dating for a year. She thinks he’s ‘the one..” I chuckle. “I told her to be careful and to not forget about why she was in college, to earn a degree and play basketball.”

“Ugh, of course.”

“But she’s thriving, and as an educator, that’s all I can ask for.”

“I think that’s the best teacher story I’ve ever heard.” She cups my cheek and looks me in the eyes when she says, “Thank you for sharing with me.”

“No need to thank me, Greer. I want to share everything with you.”

She looks momentarily surprised, then smiles and leans in, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. She returns my embrace and together, we watch the wake of our boat disturb the quiet peace of the lake.

A week ago, I’d have mocked and ridiculed any man for giving that level of power to his partner. But ever the avid reader, I’ve spent time going over the book that the counsellor suggested both Cora and I read. Phrases like emotional attunement, where “turning toward” one another, listening, and showing empathy rather than “turning away,” builds trust and safety within a relationship. Something Cora and I never received growing up. We excelled at turning away. So, I want to try, because Greer is a safe place . . . already.