I own nothing save one original character.
Chapter Four
Albert was nervous. No, he was beyond nervous. This morning he was nervous. Now, he was absolutely terrified. But he wouldn't let this group of 11th graders know that. He wanted his students to respect him, and he had a feeling they might not if they knew that he had to sit down just to stop his legs from shaking. All too soon the last student filed in, and Albert knew he had to get started. He stood, leaving his hands braced on his desk facing the students.
"Good morning," he said. Apparently no one heard him over the unruly chatter that filled the classroom. Albert tried again.
"Good morning," he said a little louder. "My name is Mr. Peterson, and I-"
Albert was proud of himself for not allowing his voice to shake, but now he was afraid he would lose his temper.
"I'm only going to say this once!" he said, practically shouting. The chatter stopped immediately. Now he had their attention.
"If anyone here isn't prepared and willing to learn," he said slowly and clearly, "get out of my classroom."
You could hear a pin drop in that room. The students stared at Albert; not one of them moved.
"All right then," Albert said, picking up the attendance sheet from his desk. Hoping his hands wouldn't shake.
"Miguel Alvarez." Silence. "Well if you're here say something!" Albert said a little impatiently.
"Something!" a boy in the back called. There was a burst of laughter from the students.
"Very funny," Albert said drily. More laughter. Albert sighed, trying not to crack a smile.
"Jeffrey Benitez..."
It was the first of September. Teresita, who was still in high school, had to cut her hours back due to school starting again. She came in at three and left when they closed up, so the other four girls had to work harder to pick up the slack. Rose was sure she was the only one who was glad for the extra work; she missed being busy all the time. So while the other girls might complain about having to cover for Teresita, Rose smiled and remembered how she used to bustle about...at her old job.
In addition to calling Rose by her middle name (it soon caught on; Antonella and the other girls called her Anita as well), Bernardo had also taken to hanging around the shop during closing time. Rose didn't know what kind of a job he had (if he had one at all), but she wished it took up more of his time. So he had less to spend with her.
"Anita!" he said, announcing his presence as he came into the shop one night.
Rose sighed, wishing she could hide behind the cash register. She dropped her chin into her hand, giving Bernardo a dreary "Hello."
He sauntered up to Rose and crouched to rest his arms on the counter so he could look up into her face.
"You are always so quiet, Anita. I worry about you!" he said playfully. Rose straightened and walked away from the counter, pretending to inspect one of the dresses a customer was supposed to have picked up that day.
"There's no need to worry about me. I just don't have much to say. That's all," she said with her back to him.
Bernardo walked around the counter and took Rose by the shoulders, spinning her around.
"I want you to have dinner with me tonight," he declared.
"What?"
Bernardo smiled and took her chin in his hand. "All you do is work, Anita. That's what Maria tells me. You go right home every night and you spend all your free time running errands. You should try to have a little fun for once, hmm?"
Rose eased her way out of his grasp.
"No thank you. I have to-"
"Work? Ah, but I think it can wait."
"Really, Bernardo, I-"
"Just this once, Anita. Do it for me!" He spread his arms and grinned, awaiting Rose's answer.
"Fine," Rose snapped. "I'll have dinner with you. Just this once," she added, giving Bernardo a hard look. Maybe giving him what he wants will get him off my back, Rose thought. I really didn't feel like cooking tonight, anyway...
"Excelente!" Before she could stop him, Bernardo leaned forward and kissed Rose's cheek. "I'll give you an hour to go home, put on something pretty, hmm? Then I can meet you here. Unless you'd like me to walk you home..."
"No!" Rose cried. "No, that's all right. I can walk home myself. Thank you."
Bernardo smiled and leaned back against the counter. "I'll see you in an hour, then."
"Not in here, you won't. I have to close up. Out!"
An hour later, Rose found herself sitting across from Bernardo at a small table for two. He was grinning broadly at her from across the table; she stared her napkin on her lap.
"You look beautiful tonight, Anita," he said. Rose forced herself to look up and meet Bernardo's eyes. "Thank you, Bernardo," she said stiffly. He kept smiling at her, and Rose found herself smiling back. Bernardo may have been a shameless flatterer, but... he wasn't bad company.
Bernardo, of course, did most of the talking that night. And Rose was content to listen. She was grateful that Bernardo didn't try to force her to open up. As the evening drew to a close, Rose realized that she was actually enjoying herself (her glass of champagne helped). I really shouldn't spend so much time alone, she thought. Maybe Bernardo was right.
Bernardo paid for their meal, and offered to walk Rose home. She opened her mouth before she had a chance to think.
"I would like that, thank you."
If Bernardo was surprised by Rose's acceptance, he didn't show it. He just offered Rose his arm, and smiled broadly when she took it.
They walked to Rose's apartment in silence, which gave Rose much needed time to think.
It's obvious that Bernardo cares for me. A lot. Maybe I shouldn't have gone out with him tonight...I barely know him! Then again...lately all I've been thinking about is starting over. Forgetting everything. I already have a new job, a new neighborhood to work in. Maybe it's time I let new people into my life too...
They stopped outside Rose's apartment building, standing there for a moment. Still not talking.
"I guess...I'll see you tomorrow then," Rose said at last, stepping away from Bernardo and letting his arm drop to his side. He turned to face Rose, cupping her cheek in his hand.
"You certainly will. Buenas noches, Anita," he said softly. And he leaned in and kissed her. The moment she felt his lips on hers, Rose made a decision. She took both Bernardo's hands in hers and guided them to her waist; when he pulled her closer she moved her hands to either side of his face and deepened the kiss. Bernardo reciprocated eagerly, putting one hand around the back of Rose's head and tangling his fingers in her hair. After what seemed like ages she pulled away, gasping for breath. I've never kissed... anyone like that before, Rose thought.
"I knew it," Bernardo said softly, tapping her on the nose as a sly grin appeared on his face. "I knew you would fall for me eventually."
Rose laughed nervously. "I guess I did. Good night, Bernardo." And with that, she hurried inside.
"I almost wish I had had that second glass of champagne," Rose muttered. "Then maybe I would have been drunk enough to have an excuse for what I just did!"
The bell rang, and Albert's students leapt from their desks, making a beeline for the door. Albert sighed, closing his copy of The Great Gatsby. The bell didn't care if lessons weren't over; in fact, it had a nasty habit of cutting Albert off midsentence. "Remember to finish chapter one for Monday!" he called after his departing students. He knew that most of them weren't listening; their minds were already on a million other things. Albert sat down at his desk, sliding his worn paperback and a few papers into his briefcase.
I did it, he thought. I've made it through a whole week of teaching. He couldn't help it; a huge smile spread across his face.
And then there was a knock at the door. Albert jumped in his seat and turned to see a woman smiling at him from the doorway. She was tall and willowy, with soft brown hair and grey-blue eyes.
"Hi, can I help you?" Albert asked. The woman laughed.
"I heard we had a new English teacher, thought I'd stop by to say hello." Albert stood as she walked over to shake his hand.
"I'm Lillian Wilson," she told him. "I teach algebra and geometry classes."
"Albert Peterson," Albert responded. "I teach English, but I guess you already knew that."
Lillian laughed again. "So, what did you think of your first week?" she asked, crossing her arms and casually leaning against the blackboard. "Think it went okay?"
"I guess so. I'm worried that I've been too hard on them, especially the first day," Albert admitted.
"Don't worry about it," Lillian replied with a wave of her hand. "Our kids are a tough bunch. Better to keep them in line so they can actually learn something than worry yourself about hurting their feelings.
"Which won't happen," she added. "It'd take a tougher teacher than you to actually upset them."
"Um, thanks," Albert said slowly.
"I mean that in a good way! You seem like a very nice man. I'm sure the kids will love you, just give it some time."
"Thanks," Albert said again, more sincerely this time.
"Do you wanna go out and get coffee or something?" Lillian asked. "It'd be nice to get to know my new colleague a little better." She gave Albert a small smile. "Unless of course you've got papers to grade..."
"School has only just started!" Albert said with a small laugh. "They haven't even finished the first chapter of their book, let alone had enough time to write an essay."
"I thought so. So...coffee?"
"All right," Albert decided. It's about time I get to know the other teachers.
Lillian insisted on buying. "So, this is your first time teaching?" she asked. Albert nodded, taking a sip of coffee and then almost dropping his cup as he burned his tongue.
"Careful," Lillian laughed. "You know, you don't seem quite young enough to be fresh out of college. What have you been doing all these years, if you haven't been teaching?"
"I was in the music business."
Lillian raised her eyebrows. "Really? What did you do?"
"I ran a small company, wrote songs..."
"Ah, so you're a musician!"
Albert blushed. "Not really. I just play piano, and I guess I can sing all right."
"So what made you decide to go into teaching?"
Albert paused, setting his coffee down on the table. "I'm not really sure," he said slowly. "It was what I wanted to do when I first got out of college, but I needed to save up money to be able to go back to school to get a teaching certificate. I didn't think I'd be able to get a job without one-"
"Neighborhoods like this are kind of an exception," Lillian said with a shrug.
"So I started Almaelou- that was the name of the company- originally just to earn some money, but I started to really like the whole music business. My secretary kept reminding me about teaching English, so...eight years later, here I am."
"Eight years? Wow." Lillian took another sip of coffee. "Where did you get the name Almaelou from?"
"Oh. Well, my mother's name is Mae, and the dog I had at the time was named Lou..."
Lillian laughed. "I see! Very creative."
Albert gave her a hard look that turned into a grin. "You know, I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not."
"I'm not!" Lillian insisted, putting a hand on top of Albert's. "I promise."
Their eyes met; after a moment they both went red and Lillian took her hand away.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"No, no, it's all right-"
"I didn't mean-"
"It's fine."
Lillian and Albert looked at each other again and laughed.
"I'm sorry," Lillian said again, still smiling.
"Don't worry about it."
A comfortable silence fell as the pair finished their coffee.
"I should probably be getting home," Lillian said, standing. "I've got quizzes to grade."
"Only a week in and you've already given them a quiz?" Albert asked with a grin, also getting to his feet.
"Just to test the knowledge they already have!" she explained. She smiled too. "Thanks for agreeing to come out with me, Albert."
"My pleasure! After all, you paid. It's been nice getting to know you, Ms. Wilson."
"I feel the same way, Mr. Peterson," Lillian said with a grin and a wave goodbye. She tossed her cup and left the small coffee shop, leaving the door tinkling behind her.
Albert also disposed of his cup and went back to their small table to retrieve his briefcase. It was then that he realized Lillian had left hers behind. He grabbed both cases and hurried out the door after her.
"Ms. Wilson!" he called. "I think you forgot something."
Lillian turned around, saw what Albert was carrying, and clasped a hand to her forehead.
"I'm always forgetting that!" she said with a laugh. "Everywhere I go, I leave it behind."
She closed the distance between the two of them and took her case back from Albert.
"Thank you, Albert. And thank you again, for having coffee with me."
She hesitated a moment, and then Lillian kissed him. Just a peck on the lips; it was over so quickly that Albert was still registering what the heck had just happened when Lillian had pulled away and started to apologize.
"Oh god, Albert, I- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."
Albert stood there, stunned. All he could think to say was "Uh."
"I'm sorry," Lillian said again, an apologetic look on her face. She turned and started to walk away.
"Wait!" Albert grabbed her hand and she stopped in her tracks. She spun to face Albert, looking surprised.
"Uh," he said again. "It's okay," he said hurriedly. Albert realized he was still holding her hand. He stepped closer and dropped his briefcase. He put his other hand on Lillian's waist and after the slightest hesitation, he kissed her, as gently as she had kissed him. She stared at him as he pulled away.
"It's okay," Albert said again. Hand still on her waist. Finally Lillian smiled. "I like you, Mr. Peterson."
He laughed. "I like you too, Ms. Wilson."
She stepped back, eyes bright and a smile on her face. "I think you can call me Lillian." She waved goodbye again and walked away.
"Goodbye, Lillian!" Albert said as she walked away. He picked up his briefcase and turned to start his own walk home. Only a moment later he stopped again, overcome by a horrible sinking feeling as he realized what he had just done.
"Oh god," he whispered. "Rosie."
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