Nothing To Lose [A Teacher/Student Love Story]

Nothing To Lose [A Teacher/Student Love Story] 9

+Mr. Stone+

 

 “Overall, though, having Amanda in my class has been a pleasure.” I concluded, folding my hands over my lap in a mannerly way.

“Well,” Amanda’s mother turned to look at Amanda, who we could see through the small window installed in the door. She was pacing nervously back and forth, every now and then throwing a glance at us. “That’s good.”

“So you know the whole 12th grade is going on a field trip.” I mentioned, nodding towards Amanda. “We’re going camping. Amanda needs her permission slip signed by you.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Montgomery said, frowning. “Amanda didn’t show me any permission slip.”

I chuckled. “Well, she did seem to have a problem with going camping.”

“I suppose she does, after her past experience.”

“When was that?” I asked curiously, leaning forward.

“Sadly, when she was turning 8 years old. Amanda and her father were going camping in the woods. It’s what she wanted to do for her 8th birthday. Now, the woods in our backyard weren’t the safest. And since Amanda’s birthday was in the winter, snow covered the trees. A week before, our gazebo’s roof had collapsed under the weight of the snow. So Benjamin--my husband--and Amanda set out to the woods.

“Amanda was very eager when she was little, so of course she was excited to spend the night in a tent. So Ben began pitching the tent, but Amanda was persistent on doing it herself. She had difficulty, but every time Ben offered to help, Amanda would say, in her little voice, ‘No! I’m 8 years old, now, and I can make a tent! I’m a big kid!’.”

Mrs. Montgomery paused to laugh, and shook her head.

I smiled in amusement. “Amanda was very cute when she was younger, wasn’t she?”

“Oh, she was the cutest!” Amanda’s mother responded, cocking her head to the side.

I lifted a shoulder.

 “So on with the story, Amanda, she was so determined to pitch the tent, but it towered over it, since it was of course 10 times her size then, and then you know what?”

“What?” I asked, suddenly now intrigued.

“She—“ Mrs. Montgomery began, but was cut off.

“Mom!”

I turned to look at Amanda, who was now standing in the doorway, her lips clamped together in frustration. “What kind of parent-teacher conference is this?” she demanded. “Seems more like storytelling, to me.”

I propped my chin in my hands and smiled at her, then turned back to her mother and slid the permission slip for the field trip over to her. “You can sign that, Mrs. Montgomery.”

“Oh, of course,” Amanda’s mother responded, as if she had forgotten completely about it. She plucked my alienheaded pen out of my tin can and scrawled her signature along the thin line, not even bothering to read the rules and guidelines.

“Mom,” Amanda whined, more calm now. “I don’t want to go camping.”

“And your mother was just telling me why,” I answered, raising an amused eyebrow. “When you rudely barged in.”

“Oh, my!” Mrs. Montgomery cried all of a sudden and lifted my watch to check the time. “Oh, Amanda! I have an interview for my new job in 3 minutes! I have to get going!” she shuffled things around in her bulky purse and tossed Amanda a large set of keys. Amanda stepped back and swiftly caught them in a hand.