#glts

Mrs. McRoy stood in front of the class as the bell rang and she called for me to stay after class. I swallowed hard, wondering what I did wrong. Sure, I was drawing all through class, but I could recite every word of the lesson she was teaching. But when I glanced up into her eyes, she didn’t look angry... only concerned.

The room was finally cleared of any other students as I shuffled to her desk, staring down at the floor, as my father had taught me. Never look into her eyes... it’s a sign of disrespect, like you’re defying her. I could feel her staring at me for a few seconds before she let out a soft sigh.

“Why don’t you join me for lunch?” She asked softly after a while of silence, causing me to lift my head in surprise, but immediately bringing my head back down. She smiled sadly and lifted my face by my chin. “Will you?” She asked again, bright green eyes staring into mine like she was staring into my soul. I swallowed hard again, but unable to say no, I slowly nodded. She smiled widely.

“Good. I look forward to it. Now, get to your next class before you’re late. Let me write you a note just in case.” Just as she handed me the note, the bell for the next class to start rang.

--

About an hour an a half later, it was time for lunch and I shuffled to Mrs. McRoy’s classroom. I slowly reached the door and stared at it a few seconds before rapping my knuckles against it. I waited for her to encourage me to enter before opening the door.

As I slowly stepped into the classroom where I had spent my morning, I gazed around before my eyes fell on the woman behind her desk with a takeout box opened and a fork being brought to her mouth. She lowered the fork just enough for me to see the smile behind it.

“You made it,” she said warmly, her smile not even faltering through the crinkles in her eyes, which only made her look more friendly. I stared at her for a second before dragging one of the desks (y’know... the ones with chairs attached to them) toward the desk and sitting in it once it was right in front of it.

“I made it,” I agreed awkwardly, taking my backpack from my back and grabbing my sack lunch from it. I had to make my own lunches and they were usually poorly made sandwiches, since my parents never actually taught me how to make one properly. She watched as I unwrapped my sandwich, really not looking forward to yet another horrible meal, but I had no choice. If I didn’t eat this, I wouldn’t eat at all that day. Not unless I managed to shop for food and make my meal...

Her bright blue eyes caught mine as I glanced up at her from my sandwich, looking confused.

“Something the matter?” I asked, feeling self-conscious about how horrible my food probably looked to her. She was an adult. I was sure she was judging it. A small, sad smile cracked on her lips as she watched me quietly.

“How would you like my salad?” She asked. I looked surprised as I glanced at her again.

“What? What about you?” She smiled and produced a second box from a small refrigerator and handed it over to me.

“You can have that sandwich as a snack later,” she said, patting my shoulder. I stared at the box. Even a salad sounded better than what I had packed for myself. I took the box in shaking hands, not really sure what to expect. Surely it was just a cheap-

When I opened the box, my eyes widened in surprise. It was the fanciest, tastiest-looking salad I had ever seen in my life.

“It’s called a cobb salad,” she explained through a little grin as she watched me and stuffed some of her own salad into her mouth. I stared for a second. It looked too amazing to eat. I couldn’t... but my stomach growled, interrupting my thoughts and finally, I picked up the fork she’d set down in front of me.

“This... it looks amazing. Thank you,” I said, hardly louder than a whisper. She smiled at me, bright blue eyes gleaming in the room’s light.

“You deserve to eat. You deserve to have a full tummy.” She paused, voice softening measurably. “How long has it been since you’ve been truly full?” I frowned at the question, feeling uncomfortable. Not because she asked me but because the answer was... well, humiliating. I couldn’t even take care of myself.

As if reading my mind, she added, “You’re a child. You shouldn’t be expected to take care of yourself. You should be able to rely on adults.” She paused a second, looking sad. “How about I teach you how to make a proper sandwich?” My face flushed as I stared at her silently. She was back to eating already, but I was so numb from so many emotions, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I should begin eating, if I should reply to her offer...

She set her fork down, dabbing at her lips with a napkin she’d set on her desk politely, though there was nothing on them. When she set it back down, she glanced at me with a sad smile.

“You have learned not to lean on adults. I understand. I have seen many children go through... similar situations.” How did she know so much? We’d just met that morning, and I’d never told her anything... her eyes remained on me as my head spun uncontrollably.

“Let me be here for you this year. I’ll teach you what a good role model looks like... and I’ll teach you what a remarkably special child you are...” she paused, pushing some vegetables in her box, looking away from me to glance at the food she was playing with. “I never want to see another child hurt... that is why...” her voice trailed off as her eyes looked pained, but only for a split second before she looked at me with determination. “I will teach you what it feels like to have someone care about you. And to want the best for you. To be able to trust an adult. Doesn’t that sound lovely?”

I couldn’t lie. I didn’t understand why she said what she said or did what she did. All I’d known my whole life was a drunken asshole of a father and teachers that turned blind eyes to what had happened. I started to believe maybe it just wasn’t obvious.

But here this woman was, on the first day that she met me, reading me like a magazine, like a newspaper...

She smiled gently at me.

“How does that sound?” She asked again. I took a shaky breath, my brain screaming what are you doing!? at me... but I couldn’t help but to answer, “That sounds... incredible. Thank you.”