Chapter Text
I'm not knocking your want to carry that home
Took it with you when you moved and got it broke
Found the pieces, we counted them all alone
Didn't add up, forgot to carry a zero
I can't be your apologist very long
I'm surprised that you'd want to carry that on
Count your blemishes, you can't, they're all gone
I can't see your response putting them back on
Like they're waiting for your guard to fall
So they can see it all and you're so
Occupied with what other persons are
Occupied with, and vice versa
And you've become what you thought was dumb
A fraction of the sum
Yeah, you've become, yeah, you have become
A fraction of the sum, the middle and the front
(Carry the Zero, Built to Spill)
It was February 19th, 1990-something and Lainey Lewis couldn’t help but be proud of how far she’d come at William Penn. She’d become a better teacher than she could have imagined. A better person than she could have imagined. There was nothing more fulfilling than molding the minds of her students. Turns out there was more to life than being a cool rockstar–who knew?
And with her newly gained emotional maturity, it didn’t take her long to zone in on the next student who needed a helping hand.
She finished leading her general music class in a rendition of Counting Crow’s “Mr. Jones” that could only be described as cacophonous. Lainey was satisfied with their efforts nonetheless. Not everyone could be musically inclined, but these kids were giving it their best, or at least most of them were.
“Okay, you’re dismissed,” Lainey addressed the class as the bell rang, “except Hailey. I need to see you after class.”
Hailey was popular, blonde, and beautiful, much like Lainey at her age. Unfortunately, also like Lainey at her age, Hailey was a bit of a problem student.
“I’ve noticed you’ve stopped singing in class.”
“And?” She folded her arms, indifferent.
“You’re one of our best voices. In fact, I could really use you in show choir.” Lainey hoped the advanced class/extracurricular would set her on the right track, and the girl had a great voice besides.
“Show choir is lame. And that’ll look like I’m trying too hard.”
“Is that why you’re also failing Math and English?” Lainey sighed and rubbed her temples. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking. I used to be you. But I can guarantee that when you’re older you’ll care less about looking cool and more about the fact that you screwed yourself out of an education. Be yourself; appearances are overrated.”
“Then why are you still so preoccupied with yours?”
The question hit Lainey harder than she’d expected. She wasn’t above keeping up appearances. It was only a few weeks ago she’d nearly had a meltdown over the school’s dress code. Sure, a lot of that was about the right to self expression, but it was also definitely about looking cool… About not looking like a teacher. Lainey was still trying to distance herself from her job, and why?
“You need to get to your next class, but we’re not done with this discussion.”
Lainey sat back at her desk to contemplate.
She knew why being cool meant so much to her. She’d worked hard to get there. All of the ridicule in middle school definitely made her want nothing to do with nerdiness. If she was being honest, Lainey had been projecting a less than honest self-image for far longer than that. The She-Ra incident surely didn’t help.
But what was this cool girl persona still doing for her? It was still distancing her from her feelings. And did still get her recognition. Boosted her self-esteem in one respect. To an extent it was also dishonest. Lainey never truly invested herself in anything besides music. She hid her true self behind layers of nonchalance and pop culture.
Barry ebbed at the façade. He was a complete and utter goofball and she loved him anyway. With Barry she could cut loose and have fun with out worrying what other people thought. God, she loved him for that. But there was a difference between adopting a “who care what other people think I like this” attitude and being unapologetically herself.
It appeared her students weren’t the only ones with teen angst to sort through.
While Lainey struggled to let go of the past, CB struggled to let go of her.
He slumped at his desk. He never really thought he’d get to be with Lainey. Not since her high school sweetheart had magically popped back into her life to sweep her off her feet. And he was a doctor! A flipping doctor. Still, the outright rejection hurt more than he ever could have expected. Lainey loved Barry. Not him. The thought gnawed at his heart.
“We’re going to watch a movie,” he announced to his fifth period. “Felicia, please start the VCR and hit the lights.”
“But this is the third one this week!”
“You said we were going to-”
“You’re no fun anymore!”
His students protested in a way that would’ve warmed his heart, had it not been completely shattered the week prior.
“We’re watching a movie,” he repeated. Felicia had no problem coasting and complied with his instructions without hesitation. If CB were himself he would have felt bad about encouraging this behavior.
With the light out and projector on, CB gave up on the pretense of working entirely and rested his head on his desk. It was easier to feel dead inside in the dark. With children staring at a screen instead of him. He sure didn’t need his humiliation to be any more public. If that was even possible. He’s pretty sure the entire school saw it.
The lights clicked on violently. CB shrank back behind his arms, not opening his eyes.
“Nope, were done with this.” Wilma Howell barged into his classroom and turned off the television set.
“Did Glasscott send you?” CB didn’t bother to move.
“No, I’m concerned about you as a colleague,” CB looked up at her as her expression softened. “and as a friend. Now get up and teach this class! Your students deserve more from you. You deserve more from yourself.”
CB groaned.
“What about your class?”
“I’ve got a free period.”
“Fine…” CB relented. “You’re right.”
He sighed and stood up to teach. He owed his students that much. They’re not the ones who stomped on his heart.