Story of Our Life

Prologue

My body aches in a way that's become the norm recently, and it's not in the delicious way.

No, I haven't felt those kinds of wonderful body aches in much too long.

I'd been on my feet the entire day before as it had been end of the course testing for my upper middle school math classes. There's no one with half a brain that trusts young teenagers not to cheat when their placement for the following year is dependent upon those final grades. Especially when you've got a handful of football players that might lose their spot on Junior Varsity in ninth grade if they don't manage to at least pull a C on the exam to keep their average at the level for playing.

I even found myself having to worry over students that are normally above average. I've  noticed through emails recently that a couple have very demanding parents that are pushing their daughters and sons so hard, making them think that college admissions teams look at their middle school grades.

They in fact do not.

Which led to me talking one young girl down from a full blown anxiety attack. She has the highest average in the entire grade level, a full three points above her peers, yet she still cried in my arms over fears that her algebra final would come out and ruin her chances of getting into Brown. 

I moved from one meltdown over to a kid who spent most of the semester sleeping through my class but still managed to turn in his homework daily and was passing with a B-. Gently, I placed my hand over his shoulder and reminded him that the exam would not be allowed to go home and that he had to wake up enough to answer the forty questions in total. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and sheepishly grabbed the pencil and began working.

Today though, is Saturday, with just three days left next week to finalize grades and then a very welcomed reprieve is in sight with summer break around the corner. Today sounds like the perfect day to recoup with doing as little laundry as possible and relax knowing that tomorrow the 'Sunday Scaries' won't be near as terrifying with a short final week ahead.

As I'm climbing out of the long soak in the tub I treated myself to, there's a harsh knock against the front door. With a look over at my house phone, I see I haven't missed any calls or messages. I soon realize I forgot to plug in my cell phone last night and it's completely dead having spent the night in the bottom of my huge teacher bag, lost in the midst of those same finals that are still waiting to be graded.

"Just a second!" I call out, rushing through my bedroom as quickly as my sore and tired legs will allow.

Which, by the way, isn't actually quickly at all as I stumble around reaching for the first item of clothing I can grab which happens to be my robe off the bed's footpost.  That's when I decide that tennis shoes will be the norm for the rest of the school year. I can't handle pushing myself another class period in heels even when they're only an inch and a half tall.

Another knock pops off the metal storm door, startling me as I tie off the robe. I use the towel from my bath to wrap atop my head and all I can think about is how happy I am that I decided  not to put on the face mask I'd pulled out of the drawer at the last second.

My hands brush down the silk material of the robe as I step through the house, making sure it's in place and none of my bits are showing by the time I reach the door.

Normally, I'd look through the small window that lines the side of the door, but the incessant and impatient knocking has me ignoring what had been drilled into my head about checking for strangers before opening the door.

I'm kicking myself internally when I open the wood door, now seeing the body standing on the other side of the clear window of the storm door.

"Hi."