Chapter Ten

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THE FOLLOWING WEEK starts with two questions invading my thoughts.

1. Will I be able to find a teacher who'll be willing to work with me and my students on a peer/buddy system?

2. Why didn't Devin kiss me and why did I want him to kiss me so badly?

I've only been able to find the answer to one and so the week ends on Friday with one of those questions still clogging my brain.

I've been working with Mr. James, a fifth-grade teacher, writing new lesson plans for when the new year starts in a couple of weeks. Mr. James and I have developed a schedule where his students will read a book twice a month to my second graders. They will each have one buddy to serve as their mentor who'll help them understand the story of the month.

Since the class will be diverse—not just because of the different ethnicities, but because of the variety of reading levels—our hope is that students will learn from each other and share strategies that have helped them understand the passage better and the use of context clues, which will be helpful to my students when they move on to third grade.

The second question, however, has remained a mystery to me. After my chats with Mr. James and checking that off my list, I've thought of nothing but the moment Devin and I shared under the dark sky last Saturday.

When we said goodbye later that night at my doorstep, he gave me a tight hug as if he didn't want to let me go because if he did, he'd lose himself.

His arms embraced my body for minutes until he finally relaxed and whispered a thank you, turning around as he headed home. What he's grateful for I have no idea and the thought resounds across my mind as I'm driving home.

Devin seems like a genuinely nice person. He's witty and funny; makes me smile all the time. Though we've only known each other for a couple of weeks, I can see us becoming more than friends and I know he senses it, too.

So why didn't he kiss me? We were so close, my tongue touched his lip for Heaven's sake. All he had to do was lean in, open his mouth and caress my lips with his. But he didn't. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to see his face again without feeling embarrassed.

Am I thinking too much into this?

Yes, you are.

My phone rings just as I'm parking the car. I sit there for a couple of minutes talking to Dad about my plans for Christmas.

"Dad, I'm surprised Mom let you have the phone today."

He chuckles. "She's not home yet. Don't tell her I called you or else she'll make me sleep on the couch."

I'm sure he's telling the truth right now. That sounds like something Mom would do.

"So listen, I wanted to know your plans for Christmas," he says.

With the holidays fast approaching, schools have closed and won't reopen until next year. I honestly have nothing special planned for my winter break. I guess I'll be spending it with Angie and giving her a New Year's kiss.

"Oh, um." I fidget for a second, not wanting to tell Dad that I'm not planning on going home for the holidays. I have no money to buy a two-way ticket to Pennsylvania.

However, I don't have the heart to tell Dad we won't be spending Christmas or New Year's together for the first time in twenty-two years. As I look around my building, trying to come up with a way to let Dad down easy, I see a woman rush out of her apartment on the third floor.

Wearing nothing but a long white shirt that barely covers her upper thighs, she sits on the second flight of stairs and fiddles with something in her hand. She looks back to the apartment, not wanting to get caught by whoever is behind the door.

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