Succubus

Chapter 8: June Kim

Chapter 8: June Kim

E-cig vapor fogged and unfogged the car's windows. The seat had been adjusted so that June was nearly lying prone. All around her in the footwells were discarded essays waiting for grades. Each cup holder held a half empty paper cup of coffee. The smell of old coffee was everywhere in the car, all the way down to the upholstery.

June checked the digital watch she'd bought at the mall. The watch was cheap enough that they hadn't even bothered to put it under glass. There were only a few minutes left in her lunch break. She sat up and prepared for her final classes of the day.

Back inside Bridgeton High, June shuffled through the lesson plans sprawled across her desk. The final period of the day was tenth grade learning about the great depression. June thought tenth grade was a good age. Ninth graders were still middle schoolers in spirit, juniors were too worried about college, and seniors didn't care. Tenth grade was a nice middle ground.

Half the students were in class before the bell rang, the rest took ten minutes to trickle in. June had mentally grouped the students into different categories. She remembered the names of the ones who cared about good grades, and the ones who caused trouble. The rest who stayed in the middle of the road, not really participating but not causing a disturbance either, were harder to remember.

The well rehearsed lines came out of June's mouth, and she made all the correct gestures toward the slideshow she'd been using for years. Some of the students took notes, some doodled, some just looked out the window. Eventually, the bell rang.

"Alright, turn the worksheet in on Monday. Have a good weekend."

Class dispersed, some ran out before June had finished talking while others had to place everything back in their backpacks and then remember how to zip them.

June finished grading and setting up Monday's lessons by five. She wondered if she'd ever have a doctorate, or live closer to an ocean. She imagined an office made of wood instead of cinder blocks where she could look out over a university quad and get emails about her latest study passing peer review. Prestige, recognition, colleagues she actually respected. The thought made her chest feel tight so she got up to go shoot baskets.

The locker room was empty, so June was surprised to see someone still in the gym. It was a tall boy with short fair hair. He moved around the three point arc: dodging, crossing, and trying to shoot from everywhere at once.

June suddenly felt self conscious. As a younger teacher she wore shirts with collars that needed to be buttoned. It created a necessary gap between her and the students. Being in gym clothes made the gap feel smaller. June wondered if that was just wistful thinking.

"Do you mind if I shoot on the other side?" June asked.

The boy turned toward her. June recognized him as a junior who took her course on ancient history. He spoke once a class which was just enough to put him in the "active participant" group. The name Peter popped into her head.

"No," Peter said before returning to his shooting.

The gym echoed with the sound of rubber against polished wood. June's mind wandered to her dad and his tenured position at an accredited East coast university. She remembered choosing to go backpacking in South East Asia instead of pursuing a doctorate. Angkor Wat was beautiful, but getting to see it meant she had bills to pay back home.

June watched as her final shot rolled around the rim before failing to go in. She sighed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Across the gym Peter was also packing his things into a duffel bag. They ended up walking out together into the chilly autumn night.

Peter had a bike chained next to the gym. June remembered that her car was parked on the other side of the building. She began walking in that direction while she looted through her gym bag. Car keys were always impossible to find when it was cold.

"Need a ride to the parking lot?" Peter asked.

June turned around in surprise. Peter was on his bike, propping himself up with one foot. She noticed the pegs on the back wheels of Peter's bike. Somewhere in the employee handbook was probably a clause on not accepting bike rides from students, however June was cold and she wanted a funny story to tell at her next family function.

"Yeah, don't tell anyone though."

"No one would believe me."

June stood up on the pegs as Peter kicked off. The cold air felt good against her face. The heat from moving in the gym seemed to radiate off her.

June tried not to notice how pleasant Peter's shoulders felt. Did he have a girlfriend? Did he want one? She wondered if that way of thinking was like a tree falling in the woods. Thinking something didn't matter, people could only see how you acted. Actions were what put people on the evening news, not thoughts. She shook her head to dispel the thought. Retirement was too far away to let her mind wander like that.

"You transferred here last year, right?" June asked.

"That's right. My parents were originally from Russia."

"They write good books," June said. She felt like a dork the second the words were out of her mouth. "My family came from Korea." June waited for the inevitable, "North or South?" joke but it never came.

"It's a terrible town here, isn't it?" Peter asked.

June was surprised to hear him say it so easily. Once the words were in the air she realized she agreed with him. For a second she wanted to play the adult and tell him to look on the bright side, but something stopped her. Maybe it was because they were already breaking the rules.

Peter's brakes squeaked as they stopped in front of the last car in the parking lot. June stepped down from the bike and felt young. Not in a good way. Being young was a nervous and awkward affair. People forgot that and focused on the lack of joint pain.

"Thank you for the ride," June said.

Peter nodded. "Don't mention it," he said seriously.

June watched as Peter pedaled away. He became a dark spot that shrank until she could only make out the reflectors on his wheels.

All at once June felt the weight of a dozen things weighing down on her. She wondered if without realizing it she'd put her life on a set of rails. The future stretched ahead of her and all she saw was Bridgeton.

Three deep breaths later and June was behind the wheel of her car, e cig in hand. Tomorrow was another day, and it would stay that way for the foreseeable future.