Chapter 1

25 is the year of expectations. People expect you to have a career, they expect you to have a house, they expect you to be married or at least engaged, they expect you to be expecting. But for me 25 was a year of starting over. A new career, a new shitty apartment in a town I don’t know, and a newly single life after wasting 5 years with someone who never wanted a real commitment. I can’t help but think of the irony as Taylor’s “Foolish One” plays while I ponder how I didn’t see the glaringly obvious signs that he’d never give me what I truly wanted.

I guess you could say I had a bit of a quarter life crisis when I walked in on him and the woman who was always “just a friend”. I didn’t just cut and highlight my hair like most girls do, I went back to school, got my teaching certification and here I am a year and a half later, on my way in to my first day as a real teacher at one of the best districts in New Jersey. I was shocked when they called me and told me I got the position, and even more shocked when I saw the starting salary, but I guess my inspirational “finding my passion in assisting the youth of America” story I told in my interview impressed them. That and the incredulous teacher shortage the nation is having right now, they probably would have hired me even if I told them I can’t stand being around children.

As I pull into my allotted parking spot, (lucky number 13), I look around. It’s not the nicest area, but sure isn’t the shit hole I used to work at. There’s a small bagel shop across the street with a park next to it, and a few other small shops scattered down. I grab my color coded binder and matching planner, and place my ID around my neck as I walk up to the side entrance. I place my ID onto the black scanner and think back to the 3 hour security PD I had to complete before I was allowed to enter the building. If there’s anything they take seriously here it’s building access, unless you have an ID you aren’t getting I to the building before first scanning your license, speaking with a security guard who then has to speak to the office who then has to call the teacher of the student that person is there to see. It’s easier getting through TSA than it is getting I to this school.

The scanner makes a beep sound, but as I try to pull the door open it doesn’t give. I try again, flipping my ID card over in case it has to scan a certain way. Once again a satisfying beep, but the door stays locked. Ugh, do I really have to walk around to the front and buzz into the office? I try one last time with no change, as I turn to make my way toward the office door I see a man walking towards me, in a brightly colored button down shirt sleeve shirt with fish printed on it. I can’t help but notice how handsome he is, with his dark brown almost black hair that sweeps to the side, his skin appearing to be kissed by the sun over the summer, and his black, slightly beat up converse. He must be the coolest guy to the kids I thought to myself.

“Hey there! Door not working?” He asks me as he gets closer.

It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me. “Oh, yeah I’m not sure if it’s the door or my ID, I’m new here.”

“Oh shit, welcome to the dumpster fire!” He said as he held out his hand in a more welcoming manner than his statement. As I reached for it I noticed he grasped my hand in a far more gentle manner than a standard handshake, with the back of my hand facing up as if he were to kiss it. He must have noticed the shock on my face at his statement as he did this.

“Ah fuck me, sorry I’m just kidding, look this is a great place to work, I’m Aiden, one of the 8th grade English teachers here, the kids call me Mr.—“ He released my hand and a sudden thought dawned on me.

“Oh, how serendipitous I actually think you might be my mentor.” I say with a shy smile. “I’m Connie, Ms.—“

“No shit? Well in that case my mentee, let me give you the grand tour!” He swipes his card and holds the door open for me giving a slight comedic and gentleman like bow. I walk into a stairwell and he leads me up to the main floor. It’s funny how much smaller schools look when you come back as an adult. While Im not short by any means, I stand at 5’7 without heels 5’10 with heels, Aiden towers over me, at probably 6 foot maybe taller. He shows me the main office, the scarcely kept supply room, the cafeteria and the teachers lounge, which he referred to as, the “watering hole”.

“Best place for the hot gossip, amongst teachers and students.” He said with a wink. I could feel my face blush slightly as he did so. We continued walking through the building until just before the first bell rang, telling the students it was time to come inside. The last stop was my classroom, the bare walls almost shined with how bright the white paint was, the whiteboard stretched across the entirety of one wall, and adjacent to it was a small bulletin board with a singular poster that said, "Teacher? I prefer the term, educational rockstar."

"It'll be nice once you make it your own," Aiden said as I meandered around the room. As much as I'd love to hang beautiful fairy lights and place contact paper on the desk to make them look more inviting, plaster the walls with millions of literary posters like I see on Instagram and Pinterest, I barely have enough money to put gas in my car to get to work. But I cant tell him that, what would he think.

"Yeah, I'll have to start bringing some things in as the year goes on," I reply. With that the bell rings, and my heart begins to flutter. I was so mesmerized by Aiden I forgot that I have a whole new career I have to figure out now. It's as if he could feel the nerves radiating off me.

"Welp, this is it! Listen I know you are probably nervous, but don't be! It's the first day so it should be pretty easy, just focus on getting to know the students and figuring out your ground rules. Whatever you do, don't try and act like their friend, not on the first day at least, they'll think they can walk all over you. When do you have your lunch?" He asks, I take a minute to pull my schedule out of my binder, I can see a smirk on his face as I do.

"Um, it looks like 4th period." I say.

"Oof, the early lunch, that fuckin sucks, well I have a study hall during then so if you'd like to spend your lunch with me stop by room 22. We can chat about classroom management and all that bullshit." I've never heard someone curse the way he does, while a lot of people would find it off putting, theres a certain comfort I get from it. He's talking to me as if we;ve been friends for years now, unconcerned about my opinions on him and how he presents himself, you can tell he's just being genuine.

"Yeah, actually that would be great! Thank you." I say, and with that my students begin to pile into the room, and he escapes with a double thumbs up to me as he goes.