Heavy Lifting

I stared at the gibberish on the board my teacher Mr. Langston called calculus. He might as well have been speaking in German. The headache I knew was evident from the second I stepped into the class began to pulse against my skull and a groan escaped from my lips.

"Is there a problem Ms. Monroe?" I heard his monotone voice ask. I looked up from the pale wood desk slowly. Mr. Langston-although he was only about forty-five he looked about ten years older. The top of his hair was beginning to thin at a faster pace than it should and his beer belly nearly popped the buttons on the plaid shirt he was wearing.

I tried my best to swallow down the nausea I got from not from his appearance, but the subject he taught. Calculus always did this to me without failure.

"Everything's fine, Mr. Langston," I tried to reassure although my voice wasn't confident.

"Yes well maybe if you opened up the book in front of you, you would get a higher score on the quiz next Friday?" he suggested. Although he may not have meant to sound snarky, it definitely came off that way. A few guys in the back of the class gave "ohhs," and "ahhs," to try to embarrass me in the situation but a quick glare at them over my shoulder shut them up quickly.

I turned back to Mr. Langston and gave him a 'sure pal, but I'm still not listening' smile before opening up my book to some random page. Just then I felt a vibration from my bag. I quickly dug through the load of crap and located my phone. After giving a swift glance to the front to make sure I wasn't going to be caught I opened the screen to my message inbox to see a new text message from a girl in my grade, Jasmine.

Hey Silver, 

Can we meet in the bathroom?

I read the message and threw my hand in the air with a quick wave to catch Mr. Langston's attention.

"May I go to the bathroom please," I asked politely. Although he rolled his eyes he gave a wave to the door. I grabbed my bag and hurriedly scurried out the seat and out the door. The sound of my heels tapping the floor was the only sound as I made my way to the bathroom down the hall. As soon as I closed the door behind me I spotted Jasmine's tear streaked face and sad eyes. Her mane of brown curls framed her, normally glowing but now dull looking, caramel skin.

"Come here," I said with open arms. She let out a small cry before rushing into my arms for a hug.

"Tell me what happened," I said after a minute of only her sniffling. She pulled away and we walked over to the small but comfy couch our school provided us.

"I just don't understand. I tell him how much I like him and he just stares at me. I don't know what to do, I'm so embarrassed," she cried. She leaned on my shoulder and continued to tell me about her crush Jamie. She had had a crush on him since our freshman year, four years ago. After she cried for five minutes straight she looked at me for answers.

"Jasmine, it's our senior year, you should be having fun. Are you sure you still want to pine after Jamie when he's in this break up get back together again cycle with Amy? This is a huge school Jasmine, couldn't there be someone else?" I asked gently. This only seemed to upset her for a second before she shook her head.

"Silver, there's something there with us. I just know it. It's this feeling I have in the bottom of my stomach every time I see him. You have to help me, please," she pleaded. 

Normally this was a giant no. I couldn't help someone who couldn't move on after so long. I was a genius when it came to relationships--not a miracle worker, but there was something in her eyes; a light that couldn't be dimmed by me telling her to give up, that light was hard to find.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll help you." 

--

I walked into the crowded cafeteria, waving to those who called out to me and promising to call those who asked. After another minute I made it to the back of the cafeteria and smiled at my group of friends.