The "L" Word.

I’d been sitting at my desk watching the students look around the room for a good three minutes. The atmosphere in here reeked of boredom but that’s sort of what being a teacher was for me: boredom. When I went to college to become a teacher I basically did it spontaneously after watching the Breakfast Club. Something stuck out to me about the principle. I know that sounds terrible, but I also love social studies and history.

“Mrs. Murphy.”

I looked up at Jennifer, my favourite student, with my eyebrows raised. Her headband was starting to fall off and was really frustrating me.

“Yes Jennifer?”

“How long are we going to sit here for?”

I cleared my throat then stood up and walked up to the board. I hadn’t exactly thought out what we were going to do and last class they were being little shits so I thought that I’d make them sit there for a few minutes in silence while I thought out what I’d teach them.

“This class sucks,” Damien mumbled from the back to that one blond kid that I can’t remember the name of ever.

“We never do anything Mrs. Murphy.”

“What’s the point of history class anyway?”

“Yeah nobody cares about what happened hundreds of years ago.”

“Why are we even here if we don’t do anything?”

“Mrs. Murphy?” Jennifer asked again.

All thirty kids were staring me down and hoping for responses to each of their ignorant and ill-mannered questions. Rather than taking a deep breath and being professional, I did the complete opposite.

“IF YOU GUYS GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ANYTHING BUT YOUR GOD DAMN CELL PHONES THEN MAYBE YOU’D UNDERSTAND SOME OF THE SHIT THAT WE’VE BEEN LEARNING FOR THE PAST FEW WEEKS.”

Unfortunately for me, the principle (who might as well have been the one from the Breakfast Club) was standing in the door way and saw the whole thing.

I’ll spare you what happened next because all it was was a big load of lecturing about staying professional and in the end he ended up firing me or “letting me go” anyway. I don’t know why they even say “I’m going to have to let you go” because we all know that you’re nicely trying to fire the person.

Jump ahead a week and here I sit. Ice cream pale in one hand, spoon in the other. I’ve been watching reruns of Jersey Shore for days. If you were to walk in on me right now, you’d probably see a very pathetic looking individual. The sound of my telephone ringing made me jump.

”Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been Rachel?” It was my best friend, April. There was a tint of worry in her voice which made me feel slightly guilty for ignoring her calls.

“I’ve been at home.”

“Rachel I’ve been calling you for days. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

I sat up right, putting the spoon in the ice cream pale.

”I read on Facebook that you were unemployed. What’s up with that?”

“I got let go. No,” I said with mockery, “I got fired.”

“I’m coming over and we’re going out.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“I’ll be over in thirty minutes.”

>>>

I swear to God, April was like a saint when it came to makeup. She could turn a piece of shit into gold with her talent. I observed her work in the mirror. My eyelids had black liner that was curved up into the perfect cat eye with a gold shimmer above it. I looked like a different person; a less pathetic and sexier person.

“What do you think?” she asked, zipping up her makeup bag.

“Sexy,” I said.

She grinned, “Good because we’re going to the club.”

She knew I hated the club. Everyone knew I hated the club. It smelled like alcohol, cigarettes, and dirty men. Who in their right mind would agree to go with a description like that? Not me.

“I’m not going.”

“You’re going.”

“It’s dirty!”

“It’s fun!

And who would have known that April ended up being right? I met a guy and got married to him and we had three babies and I got a new job as a teacher and we all lived happily ever after. No not really. The night went the complete opposite actually. It was a step below terrible.

>>>

“Why do you even drive this shit-mobile?” April grumbled as we both leaned against the hood of my car.

My car ended up breaking down on the highway. God really was testing my coping abilities to the extreme because by now you’d expect that I’d have a mental breakdown. As if the whole sitting around watching Jersey Shore for days wasn’t enough of what you’d consider a mental breakdown.

“I called a tow truck. We’ll be fine,” I assured her.

“Perfect. We’ll just sit here for thirty minutes waiting for some fat ass tow truck driver to pick us up. Then what?”

“He’ll drive us to a mechanic then we’ll get the car fixed.”

“It’s eleven at night, Rachel!” she yelled, “what kind of auto-shop would be opened this late?”

“Well what do you suggest then?” I screamed back.

“I suggest that you stop buying these piece of shit cars!”

She turned to the side and kicked the car with the toe of her high heel. I could tell that it hurt her more than the car. She turned away from me before I could mock her. Fifteen minutes later a tow truck rolled up. It was too dark to tell what the dude looked like at first but when he walked up and the headlights illuminated his face, I couldn’t help but gawk at him. He was gorgeous.

He had the most clear face and gorgeous brown hair. I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were in the darkness but my best guess was blue. No tow truck guy has ever appeared this attractive.

“Good evening ladies,” he said in a professional manner.

“Hey,” we said in unison.

I looked at April who didn’t seem to be interested in him at all. I probably looked like drooling fan girl despite the fact that he was our age.

“Are you guys going to need a ride to the shop?”

“If you could that’d be great,” April muttered, “I doubt anyone would be kind enough to come pick us up at this hour.”

“Sure thing. You guys can hop in the truck, I’ve just got to call my boss and let him know that I got here.”

“Great,” April said walking away.

We both were sitting in the truck silently waiting for the dude to come back. I took the initiative to apologize even though I felt like punching her for being so overly dramatic about the whole situation.

“I’m sorry.”

She took a deep breath. “It’s fine. I was just looking forward to tonight and wasn’t planning to spend it in some dude’s tow truck.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckled, “at least he’s cute though.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Ew.”

“What?” I asked, honestly taken by surprise.

“He’s not cute at all dude. That side bang thing he’s got going on: hell no.”

“He’s adorable!” I defended.

“He’s a side bang tow truck driver.”

The two of us jumped when the door opened and we both fell silent. He looked at the two of us who both were smiling like idiots as we tried to hide our giggles.

The rest of the car ride was pretty quiet. We were listening to some crappy country station and I was almost instantly turned off when the tow truck driver started to sing. It was only for a few choruses but he sounded like he got run over by his truck. It wasn’t cute.

Tonight was already a total disaster with my piece of shit car breaking down and now I was being tortured with hick music: for an hour. Sometimes I think God is mocking me.