He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Chapter Four: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

At Edenwood Elementary, the best place to hear all the hot gossip traveling around the school was in the teachers lounge. People didn't know it, but we teachers gossiped just as much as the students. That why I wasn't surprised to find three of my fellow teachers talking at the small, wooden table in the somewhat large space that morning.

Not only was our teacher's lounge a breeding ground for gossip, but it was also pretty trendy for an elementary school. We got a brand new, high tech coffee machine, that came with it's own rack and coffee pods, one of those refrigerators with a window you could knock on to see inside the door without opening it, a fancy microwave, dish washer and a sink big enough to wash pans in.

Next to the kitchen, was the dining area, where a small, white "dinning table" sat facing a floor to ceiling window that one could look out of and get a nice view of the front lawn of the elementary school while they drank their morning coffee.

Towards the back of the room was a a large, gray L-shaped couch that sat against the stark white walls, one of those vintage rugs you could only find in your grandmother's house sat in front of it and a worn, wooden coffee table sat on top of that. It was about as big and cozy as my apartment, which I often tried not to let bother me whenever I went in there.

I typically skipped out on morning teacher lounge gossip, because I lived near a trendy coffee shop and often grabbed a cup there, before heading to work. But, talking to Maya that morning had eaten up a lot of my time, and so I found myself rushing to the teacher's lounge to grab a cup before the first bell rang for first period.

As I walked into the room the three women, Margret Grace, Amy Johnson and Lillian Goodwin, didn't even turn to look at me, even as my heels clicked on the grey linoleum. They were too enthralled in whatever conversation they were having to notice anything else going on around them.

As I grabbed a French vanilla pod from the little rack next to our coffee machine, I listened absent-mindedly as they continued to talk.

"I think he's in town for the next few weeks," Margert, the older, no nonsense, math teacher, said, before taking a quick sip from the coffee mug in her hand.

"I heard the month," Lillian, the history teacher, said next in her monotone voice, as Amy, the science teacher, squealed.

"Who cares how long it is? He's here!" She shrieked in her high-pitched voice, before sighing. "I wish we could just go down there and see for ourselves, instead of having to teach these stupid kids."

A chorus of gasps went up as Margert said, "Amy," in a chastising voice.

"I'm sorry. I know. I didn't mean...He's just so..."

"Oh, he is," Lilian agreed in a dreamy voice as I tried to hold back a chuckle.

I had a pretty good idea of who they were talking about, but I figured staying away from that conversation was a good idea. I was good at a lot of things, but lying was never my strong suit. The last thing I needed was them tearing me apart to get answers about Theo. 

"Oh, Faye, we didn't hear you come in," A gentle voice said, making me realize I hadn't been being as quiet as I thought.

I turned to see Margaret smiling at me, her kind blue eyes only looking even kinder from the soft crinkles near her eyes and the why her sagging skin bunched up around her cheeks.  

Margaret was in her early 60's having worked at Edenwood Elementary since I attended as a kid. It was so weird to know her now as my colleague, rather then my teacher, but she remained as kind hearted as she had when I was little, so it got easier to call her by her first name.