Melt Your Headaches, Call It Work

There was something a little off about Mr. Jonas. I mean, not like a I’m-going-to-eat-your-face-rawr kind of off, I mean like a I’m-going-to-shove-my-opinions-down-your-throat kind of off. For example, from that ten minute conversation with him on the Meet the Teacher day, I found out he had diabetes, a purity ring, recently broke up with his girlfriend (Milly? Molly? Mandy?*), had three brothers, and played guitar, piano, and he could sing. I mean, honestly. It took me six months to figure out Jon owned two cats. I seriously thought he was living with a man named Dylan and a girl named Clover. It was really embarrassing when I finally figured it out.

“And then, Dylan vomited on the couch. I mean, like all over. And if that’s not bad enough, Clover got into the catnip so she was running all over the house like a freak. God, they can be such pains in the ass,” Jon moaned as we sat on the floor behind the counter, sipping ourfree coffee.

“If I were you, I’d have kicked them out ages ago,” I laughed. “Thank God, Spencer is house trained!”

“Libby, I can’t just kick them out,” Jon said in his “duh” voice.

“Why not? I mean, they do nothing but annoying you!”

“But they’re my cats, I can’t just do that!” I stared at Jon, confused.

“Wait…they’re cats?”

“You thought they were actual people!”

“Hey! My college roommate’s boyfriend called E catnip!” I pouted, crossing my arms while Jon proceeded to laugh hysterically.

So, I didn’t really think anything was wrong with the man after Georgie and I left for ice cream. I did, however, catch on when the third day of school passed and I picked Georgie up from the classroom in tears, again. For the third time in a row, Georgie had run into my arms with tears tracking down her cheeks and buried her face in the crook of my neck.

I, being the fool that I am, took is as she missed Ryan and being around him all day, when in reality, it was a completely different story.

“Georgie, honey, why are you crying?” I cooed, brushing back her hair as I crouched down to face her in the parking lot. “Did you miss Daddy?”

“No,” she mumbled, rubbing an eye innocently through her tears. “I mean…I did, but that s’not why.”

“Aw, Georgie, what’s the matter?” I sighed, pulling her into another hug.

“Mr. Jonas yelled at me again,” she finally admitted in a whisper. I pulled away form her, confused.

“What do you mean, Mr. Jonas yelled at you?” I questioned with my eyebrows furrowed.

Georgie hiccoughed softly. “He yelled at me for using my…imagination.”

“Hold the phone,” I said, stunned. “You mean to tell me he yelled at you for using your imagination?” She nodded, tears still falling down from her eyes and her chest moving with her hiccoughs. “Georgie, I want you to tell me everything that happened.”

“I was—I was playing with Dylan, and I suggest’d we play Fairy Princess like I do w’my Uncle Brendon,” she sniffled as she looked at me with watery eyes. “And Mr. Jonas came up t’me and was telling me…telling me I was being silly and that fairies were real and I shouldn’t play that anymore.”

“Did this happen today?” I asked, wiping a lone tear away with my thumb.

“This happened today, but yesterday and the day before, he sent me to the time-out chair ’cause I played Disney with my friends,” she mumbled. “I j-just want’d play Princess!”

“Okay, Georgie, some with me,” I muttered, scooping her into my arms. Storming down the hall, I headed straight to Mr. Jonas’ room with fire burning in my eyes. Dropping Georgie to the floor, I told her to stay put as I ripped the door open. “Mr. Jonas?”

“Yes? Oh, Ms. O’Callaghan, how nice to see you again,” the man smirked, looking up from his desk. Then he seemed to notice my glare. “Is something the matter?”

“Yeah, there’s something the matter,” I snapped, leaning over to stick my hands on his desk. “Georgie’s come up to me crying for the third time in a row, the exact numbers of days she’s been your class. She told me you’ve been punishing her for using her imagination. Is
that true?”

“Well…yes,” he admitted, looking perfectly nonchalant. “I have.”

“Care to explain why?” I growled, narrowing my eyes even further.

“Children should learn that life isn’t all ‘Happily Ever After’ and fairytale-like. The sooner they learn to stop believing in that, the better,” he shrugged.

“So what? Are you telling these kids Santa doesn’t exist?” I yelled, gesturing wildly with my hands. “She’s five years old!”

“And she doesn’t take her work seriously! I mean, have you heard her ABC’s? ‘A is for Alice in Wonderland, B is for Bambi, C is for Cinderella’, the list goes on and on!” he snapped in return. “She needs to focus on learning, not on playing!”

“Holy hell,” I swore, running a hand through my hair. “You know what, douche-bag? I don't think I want to know a five-year-old who isn't a dreamer, or a silly-heart. And I sure don't want to know one who takes their student career seriously. I don't have a college degree, and I’m working as a nanny. But I know a good kid when I see one. Because they're ALL good kids, until dried-out, brain-dead skags like you drag them down and convince them they're no good. You so much as scowl at Georgie, or any other kid in this school, and I hear about it, and I'm coming looking for you!”

Grabbing a five from my wallet, I slapped it down on the desk in front of his shocked face. “Here, here’s a five. Go get a stripper to give ya a lap dance,” I snarled as I turned on my heel and exited the room, slamming it behind me.

I leaned against the door, still flushed and angry. Georgie was staring at me with her eyes wide, while a tall lady with dark hair stood behind her.

“Geez,” the woman chuckled. “You told him off.”

“You heard that?” I winced. “Was it that bad?”

“Honey, that was amazing. Honestly, I’ve been dying to say that to him since he started working here. Victoria Asher at your service, but you can call me Vicky-T,” she grinned, sticking out her hand for me to shake.

“Libby O’Callaghan,” I smiled in return, shaking her hand. “Do you work here?”

“No, but my roommate does. Y’know, if you want to switch Georgie here to another class, Greta has a free space in her class,” Vicky-T mused, placing a hand on Georgie’s shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to her.”

Greta, it turned out, was amazing. She was sweet, funny, caring, and got along great with Georgie, right off the bat. She promised me that she had enough space for Georgie to switch into this class; we only had to pass it with the principle Mr. Spano.

“Thank you so much,” I gushed, shaking Greta’s hand once again. “Honestly, you have no idea how much you’ve helped me.”

“No problem, one less student who is forced through Nick’s lessons helps me sleep better at night,” she laughed. “I honestly don’t know how he got hired.”

“Thank you again!” I waved goodbye as we left the school, sighing with relief. “Don’t worry, Georgie, you’re going to be in Ms. Saltpeter’s class from now on, okay?”

“Alright,” she giggled, skipping along next to me.

[&cut]

Once we got home, I sent Georgie up to her room to go change into day clothes while I headed for Ryan’s study to alert him of the sudden changes.

“Hey, Ryan?” I asked, knocking on the door gently. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, sure,” he sighed, exasperated.

I opened the door, taking in everything. His study was filled with ceiling to floor bookshelves, each one overflowing with books. The lights were turned down low, while thick curtains covered the bay windows behind his paper covered desk. Ryan sat in a swivel chair, his head resting in his hands as the bright screen of his laptop lit up his messy hair.

“I, um, just wanted you to know that Georgie’s going to be in a different class now,” I informed him, wringing my hands. He looked up, and eyebrow raised.

“Oh? And why is that?” he wanted to know, resting his chin on his hands.

“Okay, so her teacher was a total jerk, he made her cry each day, all because she was using her imagination! His soul propose of teaching was brainwashing the kids into focusing only on school and not being kids! I’m sorry, but I for one did not want to have to be responsible for Georgie turning out like—like…” I trailed off my rant, embarrassed, and ready for a lecture from Ryan. However, one never came.

“Do you mean to tell me this guy made her cry?” Ryan demanded, standing up. “Three times?”

“Yes!” I cried, tossing my hands into the air. “Every time I picked her up, she was crying! I thought it was because she missed you, but it was because he was yelling at her!”

“What’s the schools number, I’m going to file a complaint!” he snarled, scrambling for his cell phone. “Just they wait…”

“Oh trust me, I already gave him an earful,” I smirked. “Trust me, he’s not going to be making kids cry for a long time. And, Georgie’s not in a Ms. Saltpeter’s class, and she couldn’t be more perfect for Georgie. I know it’s going to be a good year for her.”

“Thank you so much Libby,” Ryan nodded. “I’m going to go check on Georgie; can you please find the school’s number? I have it written down somewhere…”

Ryan rushed towards her room, still muttering obscenities. Just by the look on his face, I knew that Georgie was probably the most important thing in his life, and by hearing she had cried, a little bit of him had been wounded. It was touching, really, knowing that he loved her that much.

A smile came to my face as I thought of their relationship, but quickly shook myself from it and started looking for that number.