The Best Part of Her Day

The moment Joey Granger stepped into the classroom, Eliza Matthews felt her whole world brighten.

Her first instinct was to rush to him; to take his face in her hands, press her lips to his, and whisper in his ear how proud she was, how happy he made her. But, of course, that would be entirely inappropriate.

Still, the urge was almost unbearable.

Instead, she smiled. Beamed, really.

"Joey! Glad you could join us," her voice was warm, affectionate. She caught herself just in time before adding something more personal, instead saying, "Why don't you take a seat?"

He strolled in, a hint of pink in his cheeks at the attention, and took his seat near the back. Eliza thought that he looked absolutely adorable when he was embarrassed, but embarrassing him wasn't her job. It was building up his confidence. She would have to find the right balance between showering him with affection and giving him space, a balance she had not yet achieved. He was ten minutes late, but she didn’t care. He was here, and that was enough.

She had to **** herself to look away, to continue the lesson, even though a part of her wanted to drink in the sight of him, to bask in the simple joy of his presence.

Focus.

She turned back to the board and picked up a marker. “Now, as I was saying, the War of 1812 was fought between the United States and British Canada, with battles taking place on both land and sea…”

She moved through the material with ease, gesturing as she spoke, sketching out key battle locations, reinforcing names and dates. Teaching had always come naturally to her; she enjoyed guiding young minds, watching them connect ideas, witnessing the moment something clicked. She remembered her own experience as a high school student, just a few years earlier, how her history teacher, Mr. Webb, had taken all of the life out of the lessons, reading straight from the textbook, giving the bare minimum to his students. Eliza had sworn that she wouldn't repeat his failings, that she would do her best for her pupils. And so she had. While she hadn't been successful in inspiring each and every young person who walked through the door, Eliza was assured that she had at least tried. And that had always left her with a sense of accomplishment, but more than that, a excited feeling of accomplishment.

But today, the thrill of teaching wasn’t what had her heart racing.

No, that came from Joey Granger.

HER Joey Granger.

She had been so animated, so alive, because she knew that he was watching her. Because he was in her classroom, her domain. Because she knew that no matter how many other students filled the rows of desks, she was doing this for him.

And when she called on him, asked for him to engage with the material, it was purely because she knew the truth: Joey Granger was her only real student.

"Joey," she said, turning to him, "Can you tell me the name of the naval battle that we've been talking about?"

He hesitated. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes, it was something she'd seen before. In the past she would have felt disappointed. Joey hadn't been paying attention to the lecture. Now, though, she understood him so much better. His lack of attention didn't make her upset, it was part of who he was! And if there was one thing she knew about Joey, it was that he made her happy. Being with him, working with him, was like, as he had so eloquently put the night before, a dream come true.

"Um..." he mumbled, his cheeks getting redder by the second, "The battle of five armies?"

"Good instincts!" she said brightly, "Why don't you try again, this time think about one of the Great Lakes."

Had he been watching her body while she had been teaching? Was that what had been distracting him? She hoped so. Admiring her as a woman would be a good step in the right direction in helping him become a man. They had moved in leaps and bounds together in that regard the night before, and she hoped that she would be able to keep up the momentum. Besides, of all the elements of her job, that one was certainly the most fun.

"Uh, Lake Michigan?" Joey said, equally uncertain, not yet believing in himself. She stepped forward, urging him on, feeling the moment stretch like a fine thread. He was almost there!

"You are so close, Joey," she said, placing her hands on the front of his desk, leaning forward, "You're nearly there," she paused, then, "N-Erie-ly there. Think you could take another crack at it?"

His brows furrowed. “Lake Erie?”

"Joey!" She stood up straight, both of them now blushing, "I'm so proud of you! I think you're really understanding the material!"

And she meant it, too. Every word.

A couple of students looked surprised for a moment, but she didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. Joey was growing, learning, becoming. It was her real job to help him succeed. The classroom was just a distraction.

The class continued, but time felt different. Slower, stretched, elongated in a way that only made her savour every passing second. Whenever she passed by his desk, she had to fight the urge to let her fingers linger on his shoulder. Twice, she failed.

But at least she kept the touches brief.

Then, all too soon, the lesson was over.

The students began gathering their books, chatting among themselves, heading for the door. She longed to ask Joey to stay behind, to tell him to wait while she locked the door so they could be alone.

But she resisted.

There was no need to raise suspicions. They had time. Plenty of time. Last night had been wonderful, and there would be more nights, more special moments together. The thought made her breath hitch, just for a second.

As Joey passed by her desk, she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “Goodbye, love.”

He glanced at her, and she saw the flicker of surprise in his expression. Love. She hadn't said it before, hadn't really thought about it, but she immediately recognized the truth in the word. How happy it made her, how focussed, how driven. It had to be love. She loved her job, and her job was Joey. Eliza Matthews loved Joey Granger.

She wanted to reach for him, to show him, somehow, how much he meant to her. She wanted to jump on her desk and sing it out for all the world to hear. But instead, not wanting to put her love at risk, she did something she hadn’t done since she was a teenager.

She passed him a note.

It was small, folded, subtle. Her fingers barely brushed his as she slipped it into his hand, but even that tiny touch sent a thrill through her body.

It was ridiculous, childish, but she didn’t care.

When can I see you again?

And then he was gone. Not from her life. Never from her life. Just from her classroom.

She exhaled, slowly, watching the last of her students file out. The room felt empty without him. She had the rest of the day ahead of her, the doldrums of pretending to care about young people who weren't Joey Granger, acting as if her job really was to be a teacher at South Point High.

But it wasn't.

And soon, very soon, she wouldn’t have to teach anymore.

She couldn’t wait to quit.

She couldn't wait to have more time to dedicate herself to her real calling.

To her love.