Page 9 of One More Chapter

Desperate as always for attention, Penelope. Always chasing after guys who don’t want you, Penelope.

I guess you can say it stems from my daddy issues.

But the feeling right now is a carbon copy. My head is a tilt-a-whirl, my stomach rises up my throat, my head is filled with concrete, and my shoes are filled with helium. Somehow, I stumble onto the front lawn dry heaving, hands on my knees, wondering if I’ll throw up or pass out or both. It’s like those drunken college nights, when the culmination of too many mixing alcohols finally met in the middle. Only this time, I can’t puke my guts out and make it go away.

Because Ant and I are going to be co-teaching.Coas intogether. As insharing students.Sharing aclassroom. Sharing a nine-to-five for the next hundred-and-eighty days. I wonder if it’s too late to take the open sixth grade position. Or to leave the state entirely.

I collapse onto my ass on the front lawn, head hanging almost to my lap, cradled weakly in my hands as I try to center myself. The last time I felt this way, it was an easier fix. I deleted him from Facebook, blocked his girlfriend to keep myself from internet stalking her, blocked his number to keep from sending desperate messages in the middle of the night, and buried myself in finishing my book. This time, it’s going to be like the Groundhog’s Day from Hell.

And I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive.

“Hey, girlie. You ready for us yet?”

I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, but suddenly, my friends are approaching me like I’m a wounded, feral animal. I nod, weakly, wondering how pathetic I look.

He’s aguy,for crying out loud. Pull yourself together.

But it doesn’t matter who or what is bringing me down. Juliet, Lucy, and Claire surround me, one on either side and the last in front of me. Supporting me. Because that’s what good friends do.

“Tell us what you need,” Lucy says. “Time and space, wine, snacks, a dartboard with his face on it. You just say the word and it’s done.”

“Can one of you trade jobs with me for the year?” I whine. “I can teach reading. I’d doso wellteaching reading.”

“Maybe, but I can’t teach math to save my life.” Juliet tilts her head with a sad smile.

“Do any of you have ties to like, the Army National Guard? I don’t even know who you would call to fix this in seventy-two hours. Does Ty Pennington still doExtreme Makeover: Home Edition? I could definitely be a sob story.”

This earns me a laugh, but even that takes effort, the scrape of it painful against my lungs. I don’t want to laugh. I want to be free of the clutches of heartbreak.

We eventually settle on wine and pizza and horror movies—absolutely no hint of romance to seep in and poison the small bit of hope that was left in me.

after florida

11:47 PM

Penelope

What about you? Why’d you go into teaching?

Anthony

For the money and the fame, obviously

Nah. Struggling with ADHD made school tough. I had teachers who saw through the bullshit, and I realized I needed to be that guy for someone else.

Wanted to, I should say. But it was still a need at the same time, you know?

Penelope

All too well.

So why math?

Anthony

So many reasons

I can’t sit still enough to read more than a comic book