Lessons in Pure Life Page 16

  “How about the opposite of small?”

  “Big!”

  This is easy stuff. I’m glad to see my whole class on the same page before we advance to student-to-student exercises. I’ve counted sixteen of them today. The number fluctuates; no one seems to be fully able to commit to every class, but the majority of students show up the majority of the time. That’s something.

  Also, I don’t care; I’m beyond caring. A dog with a schoolbag could have showed up for class today and I would have found him a desk.

  A force field of bliss surrounds me, and it’s a peaceful place. It seems I’m looking at life from a distant location, as though I’m stretched out on a soft and comfortable picnic blanket, holding binoculars to my face with one hand while popping grapes into my mouth with the other. Maybe this is what it’s like to see earth from Planet Diego.

  I’ve had a day to both digest what happened and second-guess and reassess it all. It seems everything could have been wrongly interpreted, from his carrying me across the street to the reason he kissed me good-bye. The weird thing is, sometimes I can’t even picture his face. I’ve forgotten what he looks like in my excitement, so I have to keep sketching blurred afterimages in my mind.

  Regardless of my hindsight analysis, the walk to school this morning was admittedly googly eyed. Now I know why Cata gets so excited to “walk on the moon” with Diego – I’ve had a turn with him too, and I’m starry-eyed and shaken. If you’d asked me, I’d have said I barely touched the ground as I went along to school, bobbing like a balloon that wants to escape its string. Don’t ask me if the Bimbo guy glared at me; I didn’t notice.

  Terror and doubt, too, sift through these waves of euphoria. Of course they do; I’m as human as ever. Pools of joy, waves of sorrow, something like that.

  The morning is half over, and Diego is here somewhere. I hear Genesis yell his name into the basement over the sound of my class doing partner exercises; I hear him wandering around below me. He and another guy are testing the fuse box, calling back and forth to one another as they go from room to room. They haven’t interrupted my class like I’ve been hoping and dreading they would all morning. Where are you?

  I’m wearing a stretchy maroon skater dress that fits snugly on top and flares out on the bottom. It’s so flattering it barely needs accessories, so I just slipped on nude heels and chain earrings after getting dressed this morning. My hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and I decided to take the extra time for winged eyeliner that promises to stay on for eternity and carefully stained red lips. Not too red; a tricky, could-it-be-natural red reserved for when I need to be, well, irresistible. I feel all light and frothy, like a strawberry milkshake. Getting dressed, I kept thinking how I don’t want our next encounter to be back-to-normal. I want to make a great second impression. I want it to feel as real as it seemed; I’m afraid it won’t be.

  “Teacher, can I ask you?” Freddie is motioning, his large green eyes wide with urgency. A moment of inner whining ensues before I cut my thoughts off cleanly and focus my attention back on the present for the millionth time.

  “Absolutely.”

  I’m glad Freddie’s showing some engagement with the lesson. I kneel next to his desk as he shows me the five sentences he had to prepare for class today. I’m relieved to be able to answer both of his questions, and he seems to feel the same way. I wander around the room, surprised to be pulled in multiple directions, to be needed. It’s nice.

  And every time I blink, in those fractions of darkness, I see Diego’s silhouette in the moonlight-streetlight. It’s stuck in my memory like the afterimage of a flash.

  “Teacher, did you have a good weekend?” Celso’s confident voice pipes up, like thought bubbles have appeared above my head for everyone to see.

  Everything inside me tingles for a moment as though I got plugged in, a sparking toaster. I scan his face for clues, but I’m greeted with the same mock-innocent expression. His smooth skin pulls tightly over his bones, making him look slightly feral. He leans back in his chair and his smile grows wider, testing me a little. Could he know something? That’s ridiculous. And irrelevant.

  “I did, thanks.” And that’s the end of the conversation.

  My cheeks burn thinking of my good weekend, so I keep walking toward the whiteboard and grab a marker. I have no idea what I’m going to write, but I don’t want to turn around. I pull the cap off the marker, and in the same moment the lights go out.

  “Mierda.” It’s Diego’s muffled voice seeming to come from directly below me. I whirl around to see that the lights seem to be out in the whole building and not just in my classroom.

  “No school!” Erland sings out.

  “Hey teacher, maybe it’s a ghost. I could try to talk to it, if you want.” Celso the smart-ass.

  It’s surprisingly dark in our class considering it’s the brightest room, with windows and the tallest ceilings in the building, like a church sanctuary. I crane my neck to look out the highest window and see billowing gray clouds. The storm is early today, although I think the power outage must have more to do with the electrical work because the big rain hasn’t started; it’s just drizzling.

  “Stay here, guys. I’ll be right back.” I wander out into the hallway.

  It’s much darker outside the classroom, so I head left to find Genesis in her office, or the fuse box, whichever comes first. I see a figure coming out of her office heading toward me.

  That’s when the lights come back on.

  “Lia?” Genesis’s tone is irritated. “Have you seen my brother? I told him not to do power stuff during class time.”

  “At least the power’s working now.”

  The lights promptly cut with impeccable timing.

  “Dios dame paciencia. Diego! Come on, Lia. We’ll fix it ourselves.”

  “All right.”

  “The box is at the bottom of the stairs there. Careful of your step. Can you hold this? There’s a light on it, I just don’t know how to turn it on.”

  She’s handed me her phone, and I flip through the settings until I can switch it on to light her way. When I get it working she’s halfway down the stairs, managing not to fall in her stack-heeled shoes with skills I don’t have. I’m following slowly, going down sideways so I don’t trip forward and tumble ass-over-head to the concrete floor. It smells musty as we creep down, but it’s refreshingly cool. The little light on her phone can’t be operating at full power because it barely lights a foot in front of us. As my shoe leaves the last step, the light flickers for a moment and then wanes rapidly. It’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face, but I hear whispering.

  There’s a blinding surge and we’re back in business. I realize there are four of us down here, but I’ve had to squint my eyes against the sudden light, so I can’t tell who it is. Actually, I think I’ve seen who it is, but it doesn’t make sense.

  “Elsa, what are you doing here?” demands Genesis.

  Elsa and Diego are standing next to one another, looking as surprised to see us as we are to see them. For the first time I ignore Diego because I can’t help but stare at Elsa, noticing her flushed cheeks and flawless skin, her pretty eyes with their neat fringes of black lashes open wide with surprise. Pain sears my ego as I notice the strap of her lilac top has slipped off her shoulder, revealing bare skin so creamy I could spread it on a bagel. She’s using something powerful to hold her tits up – or maybe it’s just youth – because they look molded into unrealistic spheres that defy true female proportions. I feel calm, but alarmingly so, like there will be trouble later.

  “Sorry teacher, I—”

  “Elsa, go back to class,” orders Genesis.

  Elsa skitters up the stairs.

  Diego is left standing next to the fuse box, a red metal toolbox at his feet and a voltage tester in his hand. I look from him to Genesis, who’s glaring at her brother.

  “What are you thinking?”

  I wouldn’t want to be him. She’s livid.

/>   He answers her, something about un fusible roto, a broken fuse. Genesis’s voice starts to rise and Diego shushes her, gesturing to the ceiling, like Be quiet, they’ll hear you. She switches into a harsh whisper but doesn’t slow down, breaking into him like a jackhammer. I’m standing there, dumbfounded. What the fuck was he doing with Elsa in the dark? How did she get downstairs so fast? How did her strap fall off her shoulder? I can’t look at Diego; I don’t want to because it will hurt too much. As soon as I banish him from my mind, mind brings him right back, rebuilding him in today’s sexy look like I used to do with my dress-up dolls.

  “Lia,” Genesis says, and I turn around to face her. Her eyes are cold, distracted. “Can you go back to your class? Just try to get them back to what they were doing. I’ll deal with this.”

  Yikes. I nod, turn, and head up the stairs without looking at Diego. I don’t want to go back to class, I don’t want to look at Elsa, I don’t want to feel the crushing disappointment that’s spreading in my chest and throat. I walk back into my class without looking at anyone directly. They’re chattering quietly, but it dies down into a quiet ripple as I take my seat.

  “Sorry guys,” I say, feigning a smile. “Back to work. We have an hour left, and I’d like you to make two new sentences together with your partner. Tomorrow you will present them to the class in pairs.”

  A few sighs respond, but within a couple of minutes they’re working well. I don’t really watch them, but I can hear mostly English dialogue. I scootch my chair into my desk at the front of the class so I’m tightly inside the space, and I plan to stay there marking until I get through the whole stack of last week’s quizzes. I don’t know how much time I have until thoughts of Diego start tearing apart my concentration, so I fight extra hard to stay overzealously focused on the schoolwork.

  I’ve only got three more to go when it happens. I’ve been staring at Hector’s answers without seeing them; instead, I envision Diego in the basement, standing there stunned in faded, ripped jeans. They accentuate his muscular thighs the way they stretch just a little over the tops of his legs without being tight on the rest of him. His washed-a-million-times green t-shirt fits similarly – hugging the muscular areas like his chest and arms while hanging comfortably from everywhere else. Don’t think about him.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a soggy, tearing sound and a startled shriek that rises like a siren. I look up to see a bewildered mass of faces and a sputtering, spitting Julia. She’s jumping out of her seat, getting soaked by a leak in the roof that’s streaming down in a thin line straight onto her chair.

  “Dios mío!” Julia shouts, staring up at the leak like it’s Satan himself. Then she looks at me and smiles warily, wringing out her long braid. I feel terrible that it’s my eldest and most respected student who wound up getting involuntarily showered. Frayner jumps up and pulls Julia’s desk away from the stream so that the water hits the floor, plinking into a puddle. Without thinking, I run to the doorway and call out Diego’s name twice, quickly. As I’m doing it, I realize Genesis is probably still reaming him out and that he’s still got a lot of explaining to do about Elsa. What do I expect to say to him? Heavy footsteps pound up the stairs.

  “What is it?” he asks, worried. Something else peers out too, but he holds it back and it disappears.

  “A leak in the roof.” I direct him into my class. I don’t ever want him to be near Elsa again, and yet here I am, bringing him back to the lilac camisole. His eyes are on the leak, and he curses under his breath. “Julia got the worst of it.”

  He looks from the stream of water to Julia with her soaked pink t-shirt, standing next to Joselyn, who’s placing a beach towel around her shoulders. She’s looking at her brother Freddie like Is this what I’m supposed to do? Freddie shrugs, wide-eyed. Someone has put a plastic bucket below the leak to capture the water, and Diego walks closer to inspect the damage.

  “I need to get the ladder, patch it up right away,” he says to no one in particular, scanning the rest of the ceiling carefully.

  He walks up to Julia, bends down to her eye level, and smiles kindly. Lines around his eyes deepen. He’s old to be so young. Julia smiles back at him and nods, laughing and flapping the towel at him playfully. So the moment I get a break in my Diego case, my students start getting cozy with him. Figures.

  He takes her hand in both of his for a moment and then walks out of the room. It’s absurd, but I can’t help but notice he pulled the same move on me when he bid me good night on the weekend. Can I seriously have misread this whole thing? There’s a chance it’s all misguided culture shock and that his kiss was just a momentary act of Latin American passion.

  “Perdón,” Diego calls, and we take a collective step back as he strides back in the room with the ladder and a patch kit. Behind him is Genesis, wearing an expression of incredulity as she squints up at the hole in the ceiling and shakes her head.

  I want to look at the ceiling too, but instead I’m caught on Diego’s backside as he climbs the ladder. Those jeans are magic. They beg me to reach around and unzip them. Jealousy snakes through me uncomfortably as I look around, silently daring anyone to look at him with propriety, like he’s in any way mine. In fact, he’s anything but. I hope he falls off the ladder.

  Genesis is scanning the classroom now, as Diego begins the patchwork. Most of the students are out of their seats, a few watching the action, but most of them checking their phones. Julia, Joselyn, and Elsa are standing in the doorway watching the storm. I peek through the window and do a double-take. The rain is coming down diagonally, in unforgiving sheets, and the sky is almost black. I look back over at Diego up on the ladder, a moment’s worry for his safety. He’s had the same thought, eyes meeting mine.

  It’s the first time since the kiss that we’ve actually, properly looked at each other. He freezes with one hand mid-patch and then his arm drops, resting on the top of the ladder. He scans the room quickly, then looks back at me. In his eyes I see a deep intensity, even pain. His lips open and shut, his mouth full of words he can’t share with me. I turn away before I melt into a smiling, dreamy-eyed puddle. I don’t know what to think.

  The pounding rain slows to a trickle and suddenly it’s quiet. For a second it seems like peace might finally be upon us. I lean onto the windowsill to get a good look around the schoolyard when a neon fork of lightning blazes across the sky and thunder rumbles through the building like an earthquake. The lights flicker and go out again.

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask out loud.

  “De nuevo?” I hear Hector’s voice.

  “Stay calm, everyone!” Genesis’s voice, commanding us. My eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, but I stay near the window, out of the way.

  “It’s the ghost again, teacher. We should call the Ghostbusters!”

  “Enough about ghosts, Celso.” I’m ready to throttle him.

  “Debo ir a casa, Genesis.” Frayner is standing next to Genesis, who’s nodding at him.

  “Go, go,” she says softly.

  “Genesis, ríndete. Just call it off,” calls Diego flatly.

  Her heavy sigh is loud enough to be heard over the general hubbub of excitement. “Okay. Everyone go home. School’s over for today. Váyanse antes de la lluvia.”

  As she’s telling them to beat the rain, they’re already out the door. You’d think we’d lit their hair on fire. It’s strange that it seems light outside now that the power’s gone again. The clouds are still gray, but it’s dusky in here, like light can’t get through. Outside it’s drizzling again, but the sky still looks heavy and dark like there’s plenty more to come. The building smells like wet wood and sounds like bad drainage, water tinkling all around us.

  I approach Genesis slowly, unsure how she deals with a situation like this. Fearless leader or not, this has been a Murphy’s Law kind of day for all of us.

  “Are you okay? What can I do to help?”

  She turns around, one hand massaging her temple. “Thanks, swe
etie. I’m fine, it’s just one more thing on my list, you know? I hate to cancel class after we worked so hard to set this up, but we need time to repair this building. It was supposed to be ready to go before classes started.” She enunciates the last three words loudly, turning her head to spit them at her brother, whose shadowy figure is descending the ladder slowly.

  “Cristo,” mutters Diego.

  “Cuidado,” she orders.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Genesis has probably been telling him to be careful since they were kids. He sighs like he’s got sore muscles, feet finally hitting the ground. In the shadows he looks taller, but his voice is softer. There’s an intimacy here, probably because of the last time we were together in the dark. It was so much better then.

  Genesis has another task for Diego and delivers it before I can figure out how to process this whole situation. She’s cut me loose and moved on, so I take my things and go while there’s a break in the downpour.

  The weather adds insult to injury. A fine spray of puddle water from cars going by has decorated my legs with splattered mud. I’m grumpy and feel like stomping, but instead I bore my eyes into the wet, cracked pavement.

  I know I’ve jumped to conclusions thinking Diego and Elsa were up to no good. He must know she’s in her teens. Or does that matter to him? What relationships has he had prior to me? Not that we’re in a relationship. And Elsa is so sweet, I hate to let my jealous feelings fly at her unfiltered.

  I don’t know. I just don’t know, but I don’t feel good about any of it.

  15

  Beep beep.

  I used to react when cars honked at pedestrians, thinking it was someone I knew or that I’d gotten in the way. But it happens every day. Sometimes it’s just someone being friendly, which is totally fine. Very welcoming, actually, if unorthodox. Often, though, it’s a guy grinning at me like I’m a platter of honey-garlic wings. So unnerving.

  This exciting tidbit of culture is new to me, but I don’t let it go to my head; I’ve seen other women receive the same strange male behavior. They respond slowly, coolly, queens honoring suitors with a mere glance. A few weeks ago it was curious, but today I’m just annoyed. The sun is broiling my scalp and my feet are caked with dust – I just want to get back home. I imagine the luxury of taking a swim in the pool by myself.