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“Alright, kids. Let’s get back to the states of– who rearranged my desk?”
There’s a guilty, conspiratorial silence. The children look at her with faux innocence. “Well?”
Nothing. The Twins in the back start fidgeting under the intense stare Vi gives them. They’re known for their pranks, although something that didn’t involve her outfits getting ruined was new. Like the time she sat on thumbtacks planted on her chair. Classic.
“You see, kids, I don’t actually mind that someone arranged my desk so neatly. In fact, I’d give that person extra stars in the gradebook. Wouldn’t you like that?” Vi scans the desk for her gradebook, which is nowhere in close each in its new position, just out of reach. She mentally facepalms.
Donovan jumps up from his corner. “It was me, Mrs. K.” he says. He’s one of the quiet ones. An average student, and very sensitive. He cries easily at the slightest ribbing, making him the ideal prey for the Twins’ constant bullying.
The other kids snigger as he walked down the aisle to the teacher’s table. “I just wanted to help out. I really admire what you do.” There are practically heart eyes in his expression as he seeks validation. Vi ruffles his head. “Thanks. Appreciate that, alright?” She lends him a comforting smile when the snickering becomes louder.
“Look, he’s practically making goo-goo eyes at Mrs. K!” one of the Twins yells. “He’s got a crush on you!” The whole class erupts into laughter and Don blushes a deep scarlet. He dashes away from Vi and back to his seat and puts his head on his table.
“Ms. K and Donovan, sitting in a tree…”
“That’s enough,” she cuts in. “Don’t tease him like that, and not with your teacher!” Must be the Valentine’s fever catching everyone. “Now who can tell me what the states of matter are?” she asks, moving over to the board to make sure the date was written on the board. Her meeting with the principal (again) ensured that detail slipped her mind.
“Yes, Ava?”
“I watched a documentary yesterday…” Ava starts importantly. To her surprise, the date is already scrawled in the top right. In a handwriting that’s very familiar to her from marking the kids’ assignments. “There’re four states of matter. Solid, liquid, gas and plasma.”
Vi turns back to her. “Great, Ava! However, in the second grade, you only need to know solid liquid and gas. Could you say it with me? Solid, liquid, gas.”
Donovan’s head is still on the table. Vi moves to the back of the room and makes a mental note to move him somewhere closer to the front. “Hey, Don.”
He looks up. His eyes are red and puffy. “What’s wrong?” She stands directly in front of him. If the Twins saw what was up, they would have absolutely no mercy, translating into a hard time calming the kids down. Speaking of calm, the class is very quiet now. Everyone’s staring at her, waiting for her next move.
“Okay, you guys earned a mini break. One minute!” The silence immediately gives way to chittering and attention drawn away from them, she rubs his back. “Is everything alright?”
“They laughed at me because I wanted to help you. And also because I like you.” He sniffles.
Chuckling at the idea that an 8-year-old liked her would not help matters, so she smiled gently. “Don’t worry about that. I appreciate what you did with my desk.” Even if you should’ve asked first. “You can help me carry the books back to the library, if that makes you feel better.”
Donovan nods and rubs his eyes.
“Oh! Poor little Don’s c-wying!” Crying was extended into ten mocking syllables, and when she turns around June and July (do not ask.) are making fake weepy faces. Vi sighs. Shit. The class is a cacophony of noise and rude faces. “Cut that out. You don’t have to be mean or else you’ll be held back from break.”
The class quiets down immediately. Even if the threat is empty (she would never get between her kids and their sugar) it works every time. She strides briskly to the front of the class and resumes her lesson.
-
Donovan stays behind while the rest rush outside with their lunch bags. He waits beside her desk while she stacks the books to be returned.
“Could I get some of the books, Mrs. K?”
“Oh. Donovan.” She only offered to make him feel better. He’s taking this quite seriously. “You don’t actually have to help me, you know? Just go out and play with the kids.”
“No. I want to carry them.” He folds his arms stubbornly, and Vi stares at him. His narrowed eyes let Vi know he’s not going anywhere.
“Fine, then.” She hands him a stack of books. “There you go!”
“I can carry more. I’m strong!” She hands him two more books, not wanting a fight, or worse, tears she may not have the patience for. He struts off ahead of her, and she shakes her head.
-
The next morning, a card appears in her mail. The card read thus;
Dear Mrs. Kirraman , (Vi frowns at the misspelling.)
On Valentine’s, I just want to remind you how much you mean to me. You're the sunshine that brightens my days, the laughter that fills my heart, and the reason I believe in love.
Wishing you all the love and happiness in the world today and always.
With love,
.
Oh. One of those mindless cards that all the neighbors get during festive seasons like this. She doesn’t think much of it.
She carried this with the rest of the mail and a package that looked suspiciously phallic into their home. Her wife looks up from the island where she’s setting their breakfast. For this season-of-love she’s decided she wanted to treat Vi to a breakfast menu she had learned from her childhood chef when he wasn’t looking. Vi appreciates the gesture, but really, she loves her wife with or without exotic breakfasts. Not that she minds.
Caitlyn spies the pink card. “Someone’s got an admirer.” she says.
“So it seems, cupcake.” She sets the stuff on the table. “Now don’t you get jealous. Shit looks like it’s been copypasted to a hundred other addresses.” She plants a swift kiss to her wife’s cheeks. Caitlyn cups her face to give her a full kiss, and we go ugh! in jealousy. Their lips mesh against each other as Caitlyn grabs her waist and presses Vi flush.
“Mm, yeah. I like when you do that.” Vi says when they withdraw. “Get grabby and shit. You sure you’re not jealous of some random do-gooder on the block?”
Caitlyn elects to ignore the jibe. “Breakfast just for you, dear.” she says, gesturing to the counter behind her.
“Thanks.” Vi sits on one of the uncomfortable stools, grabs two plates of…well, whatever the name of this dish is, and eagerly tucks in. She firmly ignores the note attached to the plate that says ‘for Caitlyn only. seriously, don’t eat my food!’ in all caps in that slanty handwriting that dampens the entire mood the note is supposed to give.
Caitlyn inches closer to her, and Vi is about to make a joke about Caitlyn not being able to stay away from her for more than two seconds, when Caitlyn snatches the card from where it is on the counter and skips away, just out of reach. Vi facepalms and tucks back in. Whatever. This tastes nice.
“This is surprisingly intimate!” Caitlyn calls out from the sitting room. “Are you sure there isn’t someone out there I have to shoot?”
“There’s a name down there, plus the sender’s address, too, so you can kill them. That is, if you can see it.” Vi calls back. “I got to leave for school in a few minutes, anyway. Gimme that.” She materializes behind the couch, where Cait is and nips the card back. It’s going straight to the bin, thanks.
“But you didn’t give me my goodbye kiss!” Caitlyn protests. Vi turns around and presses her lips to Caitlyn’s, slipping a little tongue and exploring Caitlyn’s mouth then withdrawing. Something to get her all hot and bothered for her leave day.
“G’bye!”
-
The date is written on the board when she arrives to class at eight, thirty minutes early. Vi` sighs, sends a thumbs up to Donovan, who preens.
And Vi finds out very quickly that Donovan doesn’t intend to leave her side anytime soon.
Following her everywhere, even the teacher’s lounge, where she has to remind him gently to go back to recess, which he does very reluctantly.
Constantly volunteering to erase the board before anyone else, resulting in snickers and catcalls.
Staying behind to empty the bin and arrange the classroom after school. She’d taken her sweater off because she’d gotten hot, and the kids eyes widened in wonder.
“Uh, Mrs. K, your tattoos are amazing! Can I touch them?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, running over to Vi and tracing the ink on the back of her arms, visible with the short-sleeved button down she wore underneath. Oh, fuck no.
“Okay, Donovan,” she says, removing his sweaty-ass palm from the back of her arm. “Get back to it.”
Oh, boy we are most definitely having a chat.
-
The last straw are these little notes that he tucks in at the end of all his assignments.
“Donovan, would you see me after class today?” Her tone makes it clear this wasn’t a request, and the class ohhhhs. One of the Twins whispers something about a little boy getting in trouble to her sister. Donovan looks up, terrified.
“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, I promise.” The children deflate at that, and get back to their workbooks.
Some of the very nosy girls are hanging around the classroom door when Don shuffles to the front of the class, and she shoos them away for lunch. Closing the door isn’t an option, obviously, so that’s what she can do as far as privacy is concerned. When silence is established n the hallway, save the janitor’s usual humming, she settles in her chair, Donovan on the other end of the desk.
“Word has it that you have a little crush on me,” she tells him.
He blushes deeply and looks away. “Y-Yeah. You’re the most beautiful teacher in the world. You’re so confident and so cool and, um, I love your tattoos, and can we go out on a date like in the movies so we can get married and take care of each other and–“
She cuts him off immediately. How did I not deal with this earlier? “Donovan.”
The boy looks up. “Can I tell you something?” she asks.
“At your age, it’s totally okay to have little crushes here and there, but I’m a bit too old for you, don’t you think?” FUCK. She hopes she’s wording this right. “I think you should focus more on the girls your age, okay? Besides, I’m your teacher, and second graders marrying their teachers is a big no-no.” The boy pouts, and tears well in his eyes. Vi sighs internally.
“Know what the K in my name stands for?”
“It’s short for Kiramman,” he replies immediately.
“That’s very smart of you to remember! And see this?” She holds up her left hand so the expensive ring on her ring finger glinted. “What does this tell you?”
Donovan takes a few seconds to come to his conclusions, the expressions on his face shifting from confusion, to recognition to a mix of wonder and curiosity. “You’re married!” he proclaims. “like Mom and Daddy. They have rings on their left fingers, too.”
He pauses, and knowing the next question that was going to pop up, Vi clarifies. “I’m married to the most wonderful woman in the world.”
“You have a wife?” he asks in disbelief. As children are wont to do, his heartbreak was forgotten– in light of this new, exciting information.
“Yeah! And your teacher loves her very, very much, so sorry, she’s taken,” She pats him on the back. Donovan is still thinking, and his brows furrow in this tight line he makes when he’s trying to solve a math problem. Then he presents his next question.
“So doesn’t that make you gay?”
“What do you mean, ‘doesn’t that make me gay’? I’m gay!”
“Okay, does that make you a lesbian?”
“Yeah.” Vi confirms, getting up to clean the board for the after-lunch class.
“Like Megan?” he shoots back so quickly Vi is lost for an answer. Five seconds later, she’s still lost. “Who’s Megan?” she asks, turning around to face him. The janitor pops in at that exact second, humming a jaunty tune. Don looks up and down at her like she came from outer space.
“Never mind. You’re so old, you wouldn’t know her.” Satisfied, he skips away, humming a tune, which the janitor recognizes, because he interrupts. “Is that Megan?” upon confirmation, he leans down to give the kid a high five. “I love her too!” he exclaims. A jerk of his shirt prompts him to bend down so Don can whisper in his ear.
“You don’t know her?” he asks incredulously. “Oh, man, I pity you.”
“For fuck’s sake. And I’m not old, I’m twenty-five.” she huffs. The janitor, who shall remain addressed as the janitor because no one in this universe or the reader gives a flying fuck what his name is, sees himself back out with Donovan, dragging his creaky cleaning cart with him.
-
Tomorrow is show-and-tell, and the kids may or may not be in for a surprise.
-
The kids bring in a diverse assortment of things, from the mundane toys to the jar of hair that Brian said his father always left in the shower drain and the sink. In his jar. Gross. “Thanks for your…submission.” She inwardly laughs at herself. That pause before she decided on the word ‘submission’, instead of telling the kid exactly how disgusting it was reminds her of when her wife pauses, inhales, then carefully enunciates her euphemisms in that uppity accent of hers. You and your…peculiarities. Shit, she’s even thinking in an English accent now. “Can you put that away?”
Another one conjures his hamster from his sweater. “This is my friend, [redacted]. I found him in the park and we’ve been friends for like an eternity!”
“It’s a her, stupid,” June says.
“Mrs. K, he used a bad word to name his dumb hamster!” July giggles.
“You know you’re not allowed to bring that to school, right? Hand that over. Please.” She deposits the animal into a cage she brought to class specifically for…inconveniences (the mental accent pops up again) like these. She returns to the circle of eager faces. “Show and tell isn’t over yet. I brought someone, too!”
“Oooh, someone!” At this point it be recognized that these rambunctious twins carry the class as far as reactions are concerned.
“Who’s the person?” July rubs her hands together like one of those cartoon villains right before they pounce on their meal. Or like Freaky Sonic, for the…newer generation Gen Z.
“But, ma’am, aren’t you not allowed to bring people for show-and-tell?” Ava asks. Vi knows she’s a teacher and she should be the bigger person here, but she can’t help it, giving her the meanest side-eye she can muster. Shut up, girl.
“Then I guess she’s gonna be our little secret, hmm kids?” she winks conspiratorially. “Come on in!”
And what an entrance her wife makes. Mind you, she’s not doing a flashy number, like a Vogue cover reveal, or whatever. She’s just wearing the classic hoodie and denim combo, plus a worn pair of tennis shoes, since she’s off work. But it’s her presence that is so breathtaking. And her otherworldly looks, of course (of course!).
Upon closer inspection Vi finds the hoodie she’s rocking is the one Caitlyn had sworn up and down she hadn’t stolen when Vi couldn’t locate it a few days ago. You little…
Caitlyn walks in from the door, amid the whistles. Some kids pretend to collapse dramatically, especially the girls, and Donovan stares like she’s god come to earth.
“Kids, meet my wife, Caitlyn.” Vi pulls at her jeans to prompt her to sit down.
“O. M. G.” June starts.
“Look. At. Her. Butt.” July finishes.
“What?” Caitlyn blurts, eyes flitting to the Twins. So does everyone else, and their teacher looks like she’s gonna put them timeout. Their smiles fade slowly.
“Sorry. We meant that as a compliment.” July says.
“Yeah, we saw it in a music video last month. Please don’t send us to the Naughty Corner” June adds. They both laugh nervously.
After a tense silence, Caitlyn says, “Maybe you should stick to watching Cocomelon or something. No offense taken.” She smiles and lowers herself to the colorful spread. Uncomfortable moment over, the class erupts into noise, kids yelling over each other to have their questions answered first.
Vi hushes them. “Shh! I’m not supposed to bring her in here, so let’s keep it down, huh?” The last thing she needs is another teacher stepping to inquire about the noise and discovering Caitlyn in her class.
“Ms. Caitlyn, how’d you meet our teacher?”
“What do you do for work?” The speaker is almost inaudible, but Caitlyn catches sight of a little girl in an oversized sweater looking at her with such curiosity.
“I’m a lawyer,” Caitlyn replies. She hugs her knees closer to herself. “What’s your name?”
“Melody. So, you arrest bad guys?”
“No, that’s what police officers do, dear. I send the bad guys to jail and defend the good ones so they don’t go to jail wrongly. Got it?”
“Yeah!” the children chorus.
“Ma’am, did you know Don has a crush on Mrs. K?” the other twin starts sniggering with her sister. The boy in question covers his face in his hands. “I do not!”
“He’s been following Mrs. K for weeks now. Aren’t you jealous?” This was said with a conspiratorial wink.
“No, I’m not.” Caitlyn chuckles. “Don’t worry, Don– that’s your name, isn’t it?– you’ll find someone you like…aaand hopefully around your age, too.” Her tooth gap flashes when she grins at the boy, and Vi’s reminded again one of the reasons she fell in love with the little thief.
“I never liked you anyway.” Donovan crosses his arms stubbornly, making the children laugh some more. Fortunately, he hasn’t gotten weepy yet.
“You’re so pretty!” another girl says. (Aww, we all find her pretty. We definitely don’t want to get [redacted] by her until our h[redacted for context] are as l[redacted for context] as Mia Khalifa’s.)
“Thank you so much, dear. You’re also beautiful, too.”
After a few more of this, Vi claps her hands. “Alright kids, show and tell is cutting into actual class. Back to your desks. And in an orderly fashion, please.”
Vi gets up, followed by her wife and the kids as they file into their seats, casting sneak peek at the pretty lady in their class.
“It’s hot when you get bossy,” Caitlyn whispers into Vi’s ear as Vi rolls up the spread.
“It’s literally my job to do that. And not here!” She pushes Caitlyn’s face away when she leans in for a quick peck. She ushers her out the door, and they share a heated seven seconds in the hallway before Caitlyn heads out the school. The teachers are all in session so there are no suspicious looks.
“Remember, she’s our little secret.” It won’t be a secret for long, but the principal and her would have a conversation soon enough. But oh, well. She’s discouraged any more potential ‘crushes’ and let her kids get to know the woman she shared a surname with. Two birds, one stone.
“Violet Kiramman, please see me in my office immediately!”
The class ooohs again. “Did you really have to announce it to the whole school?” Vi complains. She considers playing deaf and arriving in her own time, but apart from the fact that she didn’t want to answer too many questions from her kids, she doesn’t want to get publicly humiliated in front of an audience of about two hundred people. After hurriedly passing out random worksheets, she sets out for verbal battle with the principal.
-
“Mrs. K, could I have my note back now?”
“What note?”
“The one I sent you in the mail. Did you get it”
It takes Vi a while to recall what he’s talking about to mind but she does, and she replies, slowly. “You mean, the one where you misspelled my name?”
“I did? I thought it was spelt K-I-R-R-A-M-A-N. It’s so fancy, anyway.”
“Alright.” She sits up straighter and pushes a few books aside so she has space to cross her elbows. “My name is actually spelt with one R and two M’s, but that’s beside the point. Are your parents aware you sent that to me?”
“…No?” His tone makes it clear he has no idea how the postal system works. And how the hell does he know where I live? “I hid it in my dad’s letters so he’d post it for me.”
“Donovan, I think it’s time you, me and your parents had a chat about boundaries.” She immediately picks up her phone to make a reminder, because if she doesn’t she’ll forget in the next ten seconds. “Sending notes like that to people older than you isn’t right, and I could get into trouble if people found out I received something like that from a kid. Even if it’s mass-produced.”
“I’m not a kid. I’m eight!”
“Yeah, you’re eight. Got that. I threw that out, and no, don’t you start crying.”
Don runs out of the classroom, sniffling and Vi sighs for the ten thousandth time this year.
-
“I got the Adidas sneakers you said you always wanted!” Vi exclaims, pushing the giftwrapped box towards Caitlyn. Caitlyn is visibly overjoyed to receive it, and it shows by her almost skipping round Vi and hugging her from behind.
“Aww, thank you Vi!” Caitlyn sets the box on the table, and sets into the wrapping with a ferocity that scares Vi. Bro, this is shoes we’re talking about. Caitlyn gets to the box, finally, and after rubbing her hands together expectantly, yanks the cover off.
Vi watches the smile fade slowly but surely from Caitlyn’s pretty face.
“What?” Vi asks.
“It’s not Adidas. It’s,” Caitlyn pauses, inhales. “…Abidas?”
“Exactly! Er…wait, what. Did you say– ”
“The logo isn’t even Adidas.” Caitlyn says flatly. Vi peers over. The logo is a silhouetted dude doing a ‘praise the Lord’-ass dunk. And there’s no ball in sight. Or is that the Nike logo? Jordans? Honestly, Vi could never tell the difference between these sports brands. Pretty ironic, since she’s a Saturday gym rat.
“The shoes aren’t clean, too.” is Caitlyn’s last comment, dropping the pair back on the box and slumping dejectedly on the sofa. Vi tentatively looks at her wife. She looks like she’s going to cry any second.
Vi’s happiness, as one may be well aware, is dependent on her wife. So seeing her that sad makes her sad too. And she wants to cheer her up. But Vi is Vi, and, well her suggestion to cheer her wife up goes like this:
“Can I go down on you, maybe? To, you know, make up for that– the gift?” She wrings her hands when she nots Caitlyn’s expression. Incredulous. Shit, bad idea?
“No. I want to find the fool who scammed you, and finish him,” she announces.
“Cait, you know you can’t just shoot people that offend you. Even if they kind of deserve it.”
And Vi braces herself for the argument that’s sure to follow.
“Matter of fact, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Caitlyn acquiesces. “Let’s have some fun, then we’ll deal with the sorry fucker who dared to mess with us. And no rifles, I promise,” she adds, when she sees Vi’s suspicious look. “Now get over here and put that sexy mouth of yours to good use!”