The Story of Us, Xander

Letter Two: First Grade

Letter Two: First Grade

Ah, first grade.

So many wonderful, disastrous memories.

Our teacher, Mr. Juan, hated us. With every cruel fiber in his being.

Who could blame him though? Xander, you and I were never the type to follow the rules. In fact, if we had the option, we would burn those rules and dance on their grave. But we were six, which (unfortunately for us) meant we couldn't be trusted around an open flame.

Gosh, our parents were smart. If we had gotten our sticky fingers on a match, Joymount Ridge would have been just completely destroyed.

But that's besides the point.

Xander, you and I enjoyed causing catastrophes. And we thrived on mayhem. 

Whether it was when we let out Greg, the classroom hamster, as a joke, and then days later found his remains with Slither, who was the class snake.

That had been a depressing week for us. Poor Greg.

Or when we wrote Mr Juan is an idit on the dry erase board. And we would have gotten away with it too, but we didn't because of you, Xander. You just had to ask him where you should have put the "o". Why couldn't you have just stayed quiet while he went around the room, asking who did this and telling the whole class idiot had an "o" in it?

And needless to say, when I started to hit you for being an "idit", Mr Juan connected the dots.

And once again, we were in time out.

★★★

Recess was our favorite time of the day.

We were free to do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted to, but under the watchful eyes of the playground monitors.

I think Mr. Juan had told them to not trust us. And I also think Mr. Juan was having an affair with Mrs. Amber, the school nurse.

I never realized it then, but now, so many things make sense.

Like how one time we had been going into the classroom early after lunch, and Mrs. Amber had been on top of the snotty teacher who was moaning in a very unmanly fashion.

They must have been wrapping it up whenever we clambered in. And Mr. Juan sounded like a spoiled sixteen year old girl who just broke a nail. Yes, it's still ingrained in my mind. The squeal had been that ear piercing and uncomfortable.

The nurse had looked horrified, quickly stuttering that his tonsils were fine and that there was no need for surgery, when she saw us standing in the doorway.

And that was that. She ran out of the room, pulling her shirt back on as she ran down the hallway.

Mr Juan looked extremely disheveled. His hair was sticking up every way. His tie half-way off. His neck covered in lipstick. And if he wasn't sitting behind his desk, I'm sure we would have seen his pants around his ankles.

If only we understood what that had meant, Xander. We could have blackmailed him or had him registered as a sex offender.

But we were six. We had no idea what kissing was or what the word affair meant.

And even though the end of the year was near, we pranked him one last time.

Putting super glue on his cell phone was my brilliant idea.

And first grade ended with a bang. Both for us, and I guess for Mr. Juan and Mrs. Amber, too.

~Love,

Alice