Matt & Zoe - Charles Sheehan-Miles Page 0,19

lunch to end. My class is standing, and Zoe stands with them, stretching her arms high above her after sitting on the too short seat for the last twenty minutes. The stretch arches her back, pushing her breasts out, and I have to look away.

Christ.

My class goes to music now, and I get the next fifty minutes free for my planning period. I head back to my class alone, needing to get my head clear.

It would be a bad idea to get involved with a student’s parent—sister—whatever.

It would be a bad idea to get involved with someone who just lost her parents and is grieving.

She’s demonstrated no interest in me at all.

I don’t know anything about her.

Cool your heels, Matt.

Back in my class, I sit down at my desk and begin work on grading yesterday’s math worksheets. Then I hear a knock on the door.

It’s Zoe. I feel a small spasm in my chest. She looks so sad.

“Miss Welch.”

“Zoe,” she responds, drifting into the room as she talks. “I forgot to tell you earlier, the funeral will be this coming Tuesday. Jasmine won’t be in school.”

“Of course.”.

She opens her mouth to speak again. Tyler walks into the room, interrupting her without realizing. “Hey, buddy, did you hear the latest about the union meeting?” He stops when he sees her, his eyes widening. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “I was just leaving.”

“No, you don’t have to go—” I say.

“I need to,” she says with finality.

I nod. “I’ll send you an email later to let you know how the rest of the day went.”

“Thank you,” she says, turning to walk out.

Tyler’s eyes follow her backside, then he turns back to me and says, “I’ve been asking around. Everyone’s going to vote to strike.”

“I had the feeling,” I say. “The school committee’s not budging.”

Zoe freezes in the doorway. She turns back toward me and says, “Forgive me for eavesdropping but… you’re not talking about the teachers going on strike are you?”

Before I can respond, Tyler says, “Yes, ma’am. School committee is screwing over the teachers, and we’ve been trying to negotiate since Spring. The union meets tonight to decide whether or not to strike.”

Her eyes dart to mine. “What happens if—you mean, the school would close?”

Tyler, oblivious of the turmoil on her face, says, “Yep.”

“You have to stop it,” she says to me.

Tyler chuckles. “Stop it? Matt here’s been our representative through the negotiations! He’ll be right in front.”

Zoe’s clearly horrified. “You can’t… Jasmine… your class is all she has left that she looks forward to!”

“Zoe, I don’t have any control over whether or not—”

“You can’t,” she spits out. “Don’t you understand the shape she’s in? And now you’re going to take away everything she has left?”

I’m frozen in place. I don’t have any idea what to say.

Tyler, diplomatic as always, says, “Look, lady, hire a babysitter or something. Or get your parents to watch your kid. The strike is happening.”

She gasps.

“Tyler,” I say, an edge in my voice.

“What?” His tone is annoyed.

Zoe’s face flushes red and her hands curl into fists. She spins around and marches out of the classroom.

Lucky Charms (Zoe)

Get your parents to watch your kid.

Asshole.

I’m back at my car, without noticing how I got there. I don’t know the guy who walked into Matt’s classroom, but his brief appearance made it clear I was dealing with not one, but two assholes. Matt gave me no hint that there might be a strike. Instead, he reassured me he’d do everything he could for Jasmine, that he would help provide the stability she needs.

Stability I can’t provide her because my own little sister barely knows me.

I growl with the effort of suppressing tears as I start the minivan and put it into gear. My mind circles back. I can’t remember when I was this angry, except maybe when I was in Iraq.

Intentionally, I turn my mind away from that. I’m halfway across the notch to Amherst before I calm down a little. And when I do, I’m more than a little bit troubled.

I’m angry because Matt—no, Mister Paladino, Jasmine’s teacher—had promised he could do something for Jasmine I couldn’t. And now he can’t, because of the strike, which he’s apparently up to his ears in organizing. It’s not just him. I’m troubled now that I’d even consider finding myself depending on some guy I don’t even know to help my sister.

It shows just how far out of my element I am. Sergeant Ryan would have laughed. She used