Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon.
A happiness weapon.
A beauty bomb.
And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one.
It would explode high in the air -explode softly- and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes in the air.
Floating down to Earth -boxes of Crayola's.
And we wouldn't go cheap either - not little boxes of 8.
Boxes of 64 with the sharpener built right in.
With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, and amber and umber and all the rest.
And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.
- Robert Fulghum
I didn't plan on becoming a teacher. Let alone a teacher for 6 and 7 year olds. I had planned on becoming a vet, on Christmas and my Birthday asking for a new stuff animal and a stethoscope. Of course I always got fake bright pink ones with a artificial heartbeat that you could barely hear.
That dream probably dissipated when I was around 8 and was bite in the face by a Golden Retriever. Loyal friend my ass. The dream to become a teacher made its way to my mind in 9th grade, when I had the best teacher; Ms. Robertson. I had been going through a really rough time and she helped me through it. It was then that I decided I was going to be just like her.
Of course that dream has changed a little, back then I wanted to be a college Professor. I discovered my passion was 1st graders though. So with a degree in hand I went searching through the city looking for a job. I hit gold when I discovered Forks Elementary.
I had never seen such a small town since I had been born and raised in Phoenix with a hair-brained mother and a cop for a father. All the green could swallow you in and there seemed to be a constant drizzle. I loved it right away and even managed to find a little house just for me.
It had white siding, a white picket fence, a bright red door, and even a little garden for vegetables. When you opened the door you enter a small hallway with a set of stairs in the back and two openings, one leading to a modern yet homey kitchen and the other to the living room.
The walls were a deep maroon and was paired with wooden floors. I had a mahogany couch with the matching chair, a tan side table in between the two and a coffee table located in front of the couch. The side table had a maroon lamp with a tissue box while the coffee table was littered tastefully with magazines.
There was a decent 36 inch flat screen which sat on top a dresser that held a DVD player and DVD's. ON each side of the dresser were to large book cases filled to the brim with a variety of books. Pictures hung on the walls in tan picture frames. All in all? I was in love with the room.
I made my up the stairs to where the laundry room, bathroom, and my bedroom were located. The bathroom was done in light blues and had little yellow rubber ducky's on the counter and even in the shower there was one.
My room was simple. It was done in pea green and had dark brown furniture with a fluffy cream carpet. I flung myself onto my bed and screamed into the pillow, thumping my legs wildly with delight. Once I had let it all out I flipped around and looked glossily around my room. Next to my bed there were two night stands, each with a lamp but the one that was next to where I slept also contained a alarm while the other; a wireless phone.
Across from my bed and next to the door was a matching dresser and on the other side there was also my closet and a desk. On the desk was a laptop, loose paper, a pen almost out of ink, and only my absolute favorite books.
I was in love with my house, had a great job and had an awesome best friend. How could my life get any better? I fell asleep happily to the thought.
Of course the next morning my alarm clock went off 47 minutes late(to be exact). I barely showered, through on some nice jeans and a blouse while shoving on some ratty converse. I'm surprised I remembered to make my hair and makeup presentable as I grabbed a granola bar, effectively running out of the house and tripping over who knows what.
Also effectively, and not so gracefully, falling onto my ass.
I made it to the school just in time before the new children started rolling in. I walked to my room and quietly took it in. A large colorful rug covered the floor. Containers lined the walls, toys visible through the clear plastic. Art utensils were on the counter and there was a large whiteboard next to the chalkboard with a comfy seat, that I picked out myself, sitting right next to it.
The alphabet lined the crown molding and posters hung on the wall. A large desk sat in the corner and small desks were pushed into fours in the middle of the room. There were 4 groups of 4. 16 kids. Not to bad of a class, not to large where I cant give special attention if needed but small enough to where I'm not completely overwhelmed.
I walk to my desk and look at the classroom list that was laid on it. None of the names sounded familiar so I knew no younger siblings would be in this class. I heard some shuffling and looked up from where I had been looking at the sheet. A tall, gorgeous, broad shouldered, gorgeous, bronze haired, gorgeous, green eyed, gorgeous, man stood. Did I mention he was gorgeous?
Beside him stood a little boy with pale blond hair, but the same piercing green eyes. Damn, must be his son. I checked his ring finger for any indications of a ring. There was none. I realized I should say something.
I smiled brightly at the pair and held out my hand for the man to shake. "hello I'm Ms. Swan and I'll be your son's teacher" the gorgeous man smiled tightly and nodded in my direction, but did not take my hand. I let it fall to my side before kneeling down to the boy. "hi, what's your name?" I asked in a friendly voice. He said nothing and stared.
Was this pair mute? My smile faltered but I quickly pulled it back up. I imagined a bunch of little construction workers cementing a brick smile together. New tactic. "and your name is.." I trailed off suggestively. He had to respond to that, it was a direct question. Though his son didn't..
He leaned down a little and pulled up a fist to meet his lips. Looking up through his lashes he cleared his throat before standing up straight again. "Edward Cullen" I smiled, a real smile this time. So the little boy was Xavier Cullen.
By then more eager kids and anxious parents had filed in and were helping themselves to conversation and their own little tours of the room. "I better go and meet with the other students" I mumbled and walked past them.
This was going to be a interesting year.
So I finally got the computer fixed! Yay! So new story as you may or may not have noticed(if you're visually handicapped like moi) not much to say about it, yes it's a romance but for possibly a few chapters, maybe more it will be focused on little Xavier. I'm not sure about his name and mayyy change it if it bugs me to an extent but unless I find another name(suggestions welcomed) he will be our little Xavier J next chapter should be up soon!
