Give Love A Try One More Time
Nicole's POV
“Justin, can I talk to you for a second,” I called to the forlorn student as the class packed up their things to leave.
He finished shoving his books into his backpack before approaching my desk. “Yes, Madame Engler?”
“Justin, I’ve been noticing that your grades have been slipping lately. I know that you are on the hockey team, but your grades have dropped so much that you aren’t able to play anymore.”
“What,” he shouted. “Madame, you can’t do that! The big game is coming up. I have to be able to play. Coach needs me to play.”
“I’ve already talked to your coach about it. As much as she doesn’t like the idea, she can’t ignore school rules. If you really want to play in the game, you’ll need to get at least an A- on the test on Thursday. I might suggest that you get to work studying.”
“Thanks,” he sighed, leaving the classroom, his shoulders slumped in disappointment and anger.
“Hey, Nicole,” the athletic director, Brandon Murs, called as he entered the classroom. “Is everything set up for the assembly later today?”
“Yes it is. The Blackhawks are scheduled to get here at 1:00. I have a sub taking over my classes for the rest of the day while I show them around, introduce them to the coaches and what not. Today is going to run smoothly, I guarantee it.”
“Good to hear, Engler, good to hear.” Brandon slapped me on the shoulder before walking back out of the room.
“There is something seriously wrong with that man,” I muttered to myself. I pulled a stack of papers out of the drawer of my desk and got to work correcting them.
I’d started teaching last year after I finished my Bachelor’s degree. I always knew that teaching was my passion. It was something I’d always done. When I was in high school I was able to quickly pick up new information and when other students didn’t understand, they would come to me. As for choosing French as my area of expertise, that just seemed obvious. I grew up in Quebec. I learned both French and English as a child I simply loved the language. I moved to America to go to college. Needless to say, my parents weren’t entirely thrilled; but as long as I was happy, they were happy.
“You have no idea,” my best friend, Katie, said, standing in the doorway of the classroom. “What are you doing, mon amie?”
Katie had a tendency to mock my French. She’d never studied the language. She felt that being my friend qualified her to speak it though. She sat down on my desk, ignoring the work I was trying to do.
“I was trying to correct some homework, but that is impossible now seeing as all of the papers are covered by your extremely large butt.”
“Hey,” she shouted indignantly. “My butt isn’t ‘large’! It’s really cute. Everyone tells me so.”
“Yeah, everyone that’s trying to get into your pants… What are you doing here so early? The Hawks aren’t showing up until one.”
“Blackhawks,” she corrected.
“Whatever…”
“My client canceled her appointment. My morning is now completely free. I thought I’d drop by; see what mind-numbingly dull thing you’re doing here at school.”
“Just because you hate school doesn’t mean everyone else on Earth does.”
Katie and I spent my free period talking about random things as per usual. We rarely ever talked with a set purpose. Our conversation immediately stopped when a student entered the classroom though.
“Natalie, what are you doing here,” I asked her, confused.
“Class is going to start in a few minutes, Madame,” she mumbled.
“Oh, wow. I lost track of time completely.
“Katie, why don’t you go to your office and come up with some new plays? Some of us have classes to teach.”
“Uh huh. Au revoir, Madame,” she teased, leaving the room.
At quarter to one, I left my classroom, turning the students over to their substitute, and walked to the parking lot where the Blackhawks would soon be arriving. Katie joined me soon after and we stood there waiting. Katie was so excited. The Blackhawks had chosen our school’s teams to receive new jerseys. It was all part of some philanthropic stunt, but we were excited for the donation either way.
A giant bus pulled into the parking lot. On the broad side was a crude depiction of an Indian.
“I take it this is them,” I stated.
“Yep!”
The door of the bus opened and a huge line of attractive, well built men clambered out. They were all wearing their jerseys. The first person to exit the door had a “C” embroidered onto the left side of the mascot. Katie had told me that this person was the captain. I told myself that he was extremely attractive.
He finished shoving his books into his backpack before approaching my desk. “Yes, Madame Engler?”
“Justin, I’ve been noticing that your grades have been slipping lately. I know that you are on the hockey team, but your grades have dropped so much that you aren’t able to play anymore.”
“What,” he shouted. “Madame, you can’t do that! The big game is coming up. I have to be able to play. Coach needs me to play.”
“I’ve already talked to your coach about it. As much as she doesn’t like the idea, she can’t ignore school rules. If you really want to play in the game, you’ll need to get at least an A- on the test on Thursday. I might suggest that you get to work studying.”
“Thanks,” he sighed, leaving the classroom, his shoulders slumped in disappointment and anger.
“Hey, Nicole,” the athletic director, Brandon Murs, called as he entered the classroom. “Is everything set up for the assembly later today?”
“Yes it is. The Blackhawks are scheduled to get here at 1:00. I have a sub taking over my classes for the rest of the day while I show them around, introduce them to the coaches and what not. Today is going to run smoothly, I guarantee it.”
“Good to hear, Engler, good to hear.” Brandon slapped me on the shoulder before walking back out of the room.
“There is something seriously wrong with that man,” I muttered to myself. I pulled a stack of papers out of the drawer of my desk and got to work correcting them.
I’d started teaching last year after I finished my Bachelor’s degree. I always knew that teaching was my passion. It was something I’d always done. When I was in high school I was able to quickly pick up new information and when other students didn’t understand, they would come to me. As for choosing French as my area of expertise, that just seemed obvious. I grew up in Quebec. I learned both French and English as a child I simply loved the language. I moved to America to go to college. Needless to say, my parents weren’t entirely thrilled; but as long as I was happy, they were happy.
“You have no idea,” my best friend, Katie, said, standing in the doorway of the classroom. “What are you doing, mon amie?”
Katie had a tendency to mock my French. She’d never studied the language. She felt that being my friend qualified her to speak it though. She sat down on my desk, ignoring the work I was trying to do.
“I was trying to correct some homework, but that is impossible now seeing as all of the papers are covered by your extremely large butt.”
“Hey,” she shouted indignantly. “My butt isn’t ‘large’! It’s really cute. Everyone tells me so.”
“Yeah, everyone that’s trying to get into your pants… What are you doing here so early? The Hawks aren’t showing up until one.”
“Blackhawks,” she corrected.
“Whatever…”
“My client canceled her appointment. My morning is now completely free. I thought I’d drop by; see what mind-numbingly dull thing you’re doing here at school.”
“Just because you hate school doesn’t mean everyone else on Earth does.”
Katie and I spent my free period talking about random things as per usual. We rarely ever talked with a set purpose. Our conversation immediately stopped when a student entered the classroom though.
“Natalie, what are you doing here,” I asked her, confused.
“Class is going to start in a few minutes, Madame,” she mumbled.
“Oh, wow. I lost track of time completely.
“Katie, why don’t you go to your office and come up with some new plays? Some of us have classes to teach.”
“Uh huh. Au revoir, Madame,” she teased, leaving the room.
At quarter to one, I left my classroom, turning the students over to their substitute, and walked to the parking lot where the Blackhawks would soon be arriving. Katie joined me soon after and we stood there waiting. Katie was so excited. The Blackhawks had chosen our school’s teams to receive new jerseys. It was all part of some philanthropic stunt, but we were excited for the donation either way.
A giant bus pulled into the parking lot. On the broad side was a crude depiction of an Indian.
“I take it this is them,” I stated.
“Yep!”
The door of the bus opened and a huge line of attractive, well built men clambered out. They were all wearing their jerseys. The first person to exit the door had a “C” embroidered onto the left side of the mascot. Katie had told me that this person was the captain. I told myself that he was extremely attractive.
3/19/13