Love you for infinity,
A
The next morning in class, I’m tired but determined. In the light of day, I’m able to see clearly. I have to remove the complication that is Luke Poulos from my life. I’m not stupid enough to think it will be easy, but in the long run it will make my life much simpler. In the meantime, I’ll lose myself in teaching.
“From your reading last night, which I’ll assume you all completed—” I see Josh Marville’s (Mother: Nina! Rum heiress! Father: George! Lucky enough to be married to Nina!) hand shoot up, and debate whether or not to acknowledge him. He’s moved from the back row to the second row, so I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Yes, Josh?”
“You know what they say about what happens when you assume, don’t you, Ms. Sloane? You make an ass—”
“Thank you, Josh,” I say loudly. “And just for that, I’ll direct my first question to you. Tell me this: what is the fundamental problem facing our society today?”
“Weed being illegal?” At least his response results in a few of his nearly comatose classmates waking up enough to snicker.
“Try again.” An echo of a familiar throbbing has already started to pulse at the base of my skull, and it’s not even 8:30 AM. “One more shot, Josh. Don’t blow it.”
“Scarcity?”
“Oh. Good.” My lazy attempt to hide the surprise in my voice fails. “Define it for me?”
“It means, like, not having enough resources to produce all the things that people want, or whatever.”
“Not ‘or whatever’. That’s exactly right.” I kick off my pointy green snakeskin flats and sit on the edge of my desk, sipping Gwen’s homemade soy latté from my travel mug. In response, most of the class reach for their travel mugs and take a collective slurp. “And you raise a good point—the idea of want, as different from the idea of need. What’s the difference?”
Martha (Father: Jorge! President of a regional bank! Mother: Ellen! Remarried in Albuquerque!) calls out, “A need is something that people have to have to survive.”
“Ooh! Like Starbucks?” Vi Miller chimes in.
“Not exactly,” I cringe, reaching for my mug again. “Think in terms of the most basic resources: clean water. Food. Shelter.”
The sea of faces in front of me nods, but I can tell from the blank looks that they only understand the concept in theory.
“And so what’s a want, then?”
“STARBUCKS!” Half of the class calls, raising their mugs.
“Exactly,” I laugh. “Very good.” I slip off my glasses and clean them on the edge of my black jersey wrap dress, feeling like slightly less of a failure than I did on the first day of class. “A want is just a way of meeting a need. There are many different ways to meet a need. So if a basic need is shelter, a want could be a little shack on the beach, or a penthouse apartment in the city. But sometimes wants and needs conflict.”
“Um, do you have other examples?” Vi asks, flipping to a fresh page in her notebook.
“Absolutely.” I slide off my desk and slip on my shoes, making my way to the white board. I have the perfect example, an example I can’t possibly share with the class. An example that is flashing like neon letters in my mind.
WANT: LUKE POULOS. EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM. SEE ALSO: KIND SOUL, KILLER SMILE, GORGEOUS HAIR, SHARP SENSE OF HUMOR, AMAZING MOUTH, ET CETERA.
NEED: NOT TO WANT LUKE POULOS.
There’s an all-school assembly after first period, so after I dismiss the class I take a second to retie the belt on my dress and apply a fresh coat of nude gloss. I’m dying to see Luke at the assembly. And I’m dreading it. I’m not sure I have the willpower to break things off with him, especially not once he looks at me with those open, kind eyes. Then again, maybe I’m being presumptuous. Maybe last night was just a kiss.
I check my reflection in the white board. “Okay,” I whisper to the nearly there version of myself. “Look. I really like you, but we both know that it’s not a good idea to get involved in a relationship with a coworker. It’s not that I didn’t have a great time last night, I did—it’s just—I need to focus on my teaching right now, and adjusting to the school, and—”
“Am I… interrupting something? Do you two need to be alone?” Luke’s voice in the doorway makes me scream. A small scream. But a scream nonetheless.
“Elle! Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Luke hurries across the classroom, then reaches out and squeezes my arm. I love the feeling of his hands on me. “You okay?”