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Algebra? I could point that out in life without blinking. Geometry was harder once you got past the basics. Fourth period was algebra two with trigonometry. And then, finally, lunch.
I was ready to sit down after a quick trip to the bathroom.
With my insulated lunch bag in hand, I knocked on the frame of Kayla’s lab door. “Ready?”
Kayla glanced up from where she leaned over a monitor, helping one of our shared students. “One sec. You can go ahead into my office. I’ll be right there.”
I fought a sigh. She said that, but I knew from past experience she wasn’t one to walk away from a student who needed—or wanted—help. It was even odds for her actually joining me and getting something to eat.
I strolled past the rows of computers to the tiny office at the front of the room. It had the benefit of a door, but the prospect of privacy was thwarted by the enormous window looking into the classroom.
It was more than I had, though, and it definitely beat the staff room.
I pulled a chair closer to her desk and unzipped my lunch bag to extract the container of salad I’d put together last night. New year, healthier me. Or something.
I stirred it to get the dressing from the bottom of the container mixed around on the greens, and stabbed a bite. Not bad. Not amazing, but it was better than PB&J for the nine millionth time.
I swiped my phone and opened a browser. I was finishing up a quick perusal of the stock market when Kayla bustled in.
“Sorry. Matt tries, but he isn’t an intuitive programmer. He’s constantly forgetting to declare his variables.”
I nodded. I sort of knew what she was talking about. But I did know Matt. “He’s doing well in calc. I could see him going into physics or chemistry. Maybe medicine?”
“I don’t think he has the stomach for that. But the other two? That’s a thought. I’ll see if I can work it into a conversation. He’s a junior, right?”
“Yeah.”
“If he hasn’t taken physics, he could do that next year. Get a taste of it.” She sighed and flopped into the chair behind her desk, then bent over to pull open a drawer. She extracted a brown paper bag. She glanced over at my food. “That looks yummy.”
“What did you bring?”
“Ham and cheese.”
I looked at the hopeful expression on her face then down at my salad. I’d only managed a couple of bites. With a shrug, I pushed it across her desk. “We can trade.”
“Seriously?” She beamed and tossed me the sandwich. “You’re the best. I don’t know why I never have fresh veggies in the fridge.”
I snickered. “Maybe because you buy them in a fit of optimism and then forget about them?”
“There’s that.” She grinned and stabbed up a bite. “This is amazing.”
I shook my head and took a bite of the sandwich. It was good. I didn’t think either one qualified as amazing, but maybe food you didn’t make tasted better. “Glad you like it.”
“So. Spring break. I have an idea.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Obviously, you’re not someone who reads the bulletin at church. But I do.” She forked up more salad. “What if, instead of going to the Caymans again, we volunteered to chaperone the youth on their mission trip to Mexico?”
I put a finger in my ear and wiggled it around. “I’m sorry. I think my ear is broken. You did not just suggest we spend our week off from herding teenagers with other teenagers.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Kayla’s eyes were gleaming, and as much as I didn’t want to do this—as much as I knew I was going to say no six hundred different ways—I also knew I was going to end up in Mexico during spring break.
Woo.
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