Language of Love

Primus

The bell rings, so I walk to the doorway. Students wander down the hall, most are clearly freshmen. Next door is a blonde woman, she's the Dutch teacher. Her outfit is bright pink, I wonder if she always dresses like that. Directly across from my room is German classroom. The teacher hasn't walked out yet. Next, to the German room, kitty-corner to me is one of the Spanish teachers.

From the Spanish room, a dark-haired old guy walks out.
"Hi! I'm Mr. Coleman!" He half-shouts. I wave.
"I'm Ms. Thorne." At this moment, the German teacher walks out of his room. He smirks.
"Mr. Kennedy." He says. The Dutch teacher lets out a scarcely audible "damn." I giggle.
"You've got that right," I say.
"I bet he's married." She says.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Oh, right. I'm Ms. Brasher." She says.

My first student enters my room. I had him a piece of paper.
"Sit wherever," I say. After the rest of my class floods in, I shut the door and walk to the front of my class. They all look so eager. It's refreshing.

"Welcome to Latin! I'm Ms. Throne, I just graduated, so this is my first year actually teaching. Um, I guess I'll tell you a little bit about myself. I'm 26, I went to the University of Iowa. I just moved here and, uh, I have a cat." I say.

"Why don't we go around, I want to know each of your names, your grade, and favorite color."

"Uh, Whalen, 9th, Blue." Says the guy who probably hasn't brushed his hair in a month.
"James, 9th, Green." Says the clean-cut, kinda pretty guy.
"Nate, I'm a freshy freshman!! Red." I glare at Nate and just nod.
"Justin, also a freshy freshman...Black, like my soul." Justin says.
"Anna, 10th, Pink." The excessively spray tanned girl says.
"Huh? Oh, uh, Darby, 9th, and, um, teal." Says the dark-haired cheerleader.
"Bella, 10th, yellow." The first lovestruck teenager says.
"Trace, 11th, orange." The second lovestruck teenager says.
"Muffins, 9th, Velvet." The girl dressed like a cat says.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a Muffins on my attendance sheet. Is your real name Elizabeth?" I ask.
"Yeah." She says.
"And you go by....Muffins?" I ask her. The whole class bursts out laughing.
"Yes. It's my true identity." She says. Everyone just laughs harder.
"Okay, don't mess with me. Do you actually go by Muffins?" I ask.
"It's my cat name." She says.
"You're what?" I say, trying to suppress the laughter.
"Cat name. I'm a furry." She says.
"Oh..." I say, still curious.

The period ends shortly, I hope my next class isn't as interesting. I return to the hall, the other foreign language teachers already at their doors.
"Where are y'all from?" Mr. Coleman asks.
"This is my first year teaching," I say.
"First year? I remember my first year, that was a good 36 years ago..." Mr. Coleman says.
"It's my third year," Mr. Kennedy says.
"It's my second. Where are you from, Mr. Kennedy?" Ms. Brasher says.
"Um, I'm from Roosevelt Disciplinary. Call me Fitzgerald, all of you." He says.
"Disciplinary?" I ask.
"Yeah...." Fitzgerald says chuckling.
"Call me Gray," I say. The three nod.
"Courtney," Ms. Brasher adds.
"Mr. Coleman is good," Says the Spanish teacher. Sounds just like my father.

After my class, I walk to the teacher workroom. I see Courtney walk in. When I open the door, I see Courtney, Fitzgerald, Mr. Coleman and multiple other teachers sitting at the table together. I sit down next to Courtney and a teacher a don't recognize.

"I'm Mr. Kennedy, call me Fitzgerald. I teach German." Fitzgerald says.
"I'm Mrs. Powell, you can call me Jenny. I teach Spanish." She says.
"I'm Ms. Brasher, but call me Courtney, I'm the French teacher," Courtney says. I'm next.
"I'm Ms. Throne, call me Gray. I teach Latin and Roman History." I add.
"I'm Mr. Coleman, call me Mr. Coleman. I also teach Spanish." He says.

The rest of the teachers go down. There's Ms. Pruitt, the Russian teacher. Mr. Marx, another French teacher. Mrs. Granjean, the other German teacher. And Mr. Thomas, the Chinese teacher.

"I have a question, for all of you," I say. "Do you know what a furry is?"
"What?" Fitzgerald asks.
"A furry. There is a student who believes she is a cat, she called herself a furry?" I explain.
"Never heard of it." Ms. Pruitt says.
"Me either," Courtney agrees. Jenny types on her phone and looks up.
"A person who believes they are of a non-human species, often unnaturally bright colored." She reads.
"Hm," I say.

Courtney stands up, "I need to go finish seating charts."
"Me too," Ms. Pruitt says, following her out the door.
"Me three." Mr. Thomas says.
"I should call my wife." Mr. Coleman says.
"I should prep for my pre-test next period," Mr. Marx says.
"I'm going to check out the vending machines." Mrs. Granjean says.
"I'll come along," Jenny says.

They all leave, leaving just me and Fitzgerald.
"And then there were two," Fitzgerald says.
"So, tell me about your self. You married? Kids?" I ask.
"Not married, no kids. What about you?"
"I'm not married either, nor do I have children," I say.
"Single?" He asks.
"Moving pretty fast there, Fitzgerald," I comment.
"Just a question, that you haven't answered yet." He says.
"I'm single, are you?" I ask.
"Yeah..." He says. I take every muscle in my body not to lean over the table and make out with him.

       I look into his deep eyes, a golden brown. They're soft and warm, welcoming even. The bright sunlight turns them a beautiful golden color, as rich as chocolate, but as golden as the sun. He clears his throat.

     "I should go."
     "Yeah, me too."

      I return to my classroom, shortly. I sit down in my desk chair, daydreaming of the beautiful stranger next door. Soon, my daydream ends and I welcome my next class.