A New Job, a New Friend

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A new teacher finds a new lover during training.
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A new teacher finds a new lover during training.

It was an August day, about a week after my 24th birthday, and I was starting my first day of teacher training. In the summers during college I had taught students in camps and programs for gifted children. It was fun to teach a group of eager students, especially in a small and relaxed setting, but I knew my first real teaching job would be different. I was teaching Algebra and Geometry to ninth graders. I'd have 100 students coming in and out of my class for a period at a time. More so than any first day of school as a student, I was both nervous and excited.

I would also be lying if I didn't mention I was excited to meet the other teachers. Like a kid moving towns, I was the new kid in school in a new town. But unlike the time I had to switch to a new school in a new town when I was in the sixth grade, I knew I was not going to be the only new one this time. The high school I was working for had a hallway added onto it over the summer to make room for students from the neighboring town that had been redistricted. The principal, who interviewed me for the job, told me they would be hiring ten new teachers. Most of whom, because of budgetary constraints, would have to be teachers straight out of college. I was excited to hear there would be other young teachers around, until I realized it meant that the job offer (even more than other teaching jobs) would not be rolling in the big bucks.

I walked into a classroom to see Mr. Linden, as his students called him and he told us new teachers to call him, at the front of the room. He was one of the longest serving teachers in the school and was in charge of orientation. I knew the day would be a lot of paperwork and going over the minutiae of school policies but I was still happy the day had come. In fact, I was the first new teacher in the room with a full twenty minutes to spare before the scheduled start time. I sat down in at a combination chair and desk, usually meant for a 16-year old, that barely supported my tall frame. I made small chat with Mr. Linden while I flipped through the training manual in front of me.

"Hello, nice to see you again," a high-spirited voice said. I looked up from the papers in front of me to see a petite girl with long dark auburn hair. She was at least half a foot shorter than me, though most girls were as I was 6'1 and had been a soccer goalie in college. She gave Mr. Linden a quick hug. "Are we doing assigned seats or can I sit anywhere?"

Mr. Linden laughed off the joke and told her to sit wherever she wanted. I was the only other person in the room, sitting in one of seven desks in the front row. The young woman put her bag down on the desk next to mine, then placed out her hand to greet me.

"Hi, I'm Natasha!" she said. It was clear from the first minute of meeting her that she was always full of energy. I was not that type of person, but it's not like I didn't appreciate people who had a bubbly personality. I just didn't always have the willpower to be perpetually upbeat. She smiled at me. It was undeniable that she was cute.

"I'm Adam. Ready for the first day of school?" I said.

"Not at all! I just moved here and I have so much more to unpack at home and so many more lesson plans to make," she sat down in the desk but turned towards me. She was wearing an ordinary pair of jeans but as her butt made contact with the chair it was hard not to notice before I returned my vision back up to her eyes. "It's going to be a busy few weeks," she added.

Natasha and I chatted some more. She had moved here from out of state and had stumbled upon the opening because of an aunt that lived nearby. Otherwise, she knew no one else in the area. I was from a small city 30 minutes away, where most of my friends and family still were.

Soon the room filled up with more new teachers. They were a bit less youthful, at least compared to Natasha, but overall it was a young and fun crowd. Mr. Linden was funny too, and would sometimes get to portions of the training manual only to say "Today we will be skipping over the entire section on 'Safety Protocol for Non-Fire Natural Disasters'. However, if anyone asks, we read every page and we were here all night."

It was a dull afternoon in terms of material, but I couldn't help but stay alert due to knowing many of people around me would be my friends, or at least workplace acquaintances, for the next year. I tried to leave a good impression by acting normal and having good posture. I had spent time observing students in my only teaching experience and knew how much you can learn from a person by watching them for just a few seconds. One of the new teachers sat in the back, clearly texting a boyfriend the entire time. Another teacher took his glasses off every few minutes to wash them as he fidgeted. If he had the wrong class, he was going to have trouble teaching a bunch of rowdy teenagers without getting picked on.

And I couldn't help but steal glances of Natasha whenever possible. She was never not smiling. Even when her mouth was closed and her eyes were focused, she appeared happy. Whenever she looked down at the papers in front of her, her hair would fall over her face for a second before she delicately pushed it back.

After a few hours of speeding through the materials, interrupted briefly by a bathroom break, we were given our "homework" which was just a pile of forms prepared both by the school or the state's Department of Education. Everyone thanked Mr. Linden for his time and then made small talk for a few minutes before leaving. Once Frank, the fidgety teacher with glasses, walked out it was just me and Natasha.

"I'm just going to go to the teacher's lounge and fill all those out there," Natasha said, "it's embarrassing but I don't have any furniture set up back home so it's a lot easier just to work here."

"Mind if I join? It wouldn't mind getting it done before heading home," I said hoping her mention that she was going to leave the current room for the teacher's lounge was not a ploy to get rid of me. My instinct told me it was not.

"Of course! We'll make it a little paperwork party."

We made our way to the teacher's lounge and both sat down at the large circular table in the middle of the room. I sat down second, and several seats away from her so we could each spread out the piles of paper we were carrying in front of us. I pride myself on being an efficient person and if I was alone I would have skimmed the papers as fast as possible signing where appropriate. But I figured with Natasha signing with me, and no plans for the rest of the day or night, there was really no rush.

We also soon discovered some of the papers asked for questions which might require a bit more thought. There was one question that asked for a brief 75 word description of ourselves that would serve as our introductions in the teachers' newsletter. It was for the teachers that had been here for years to get to know us. Natasha and I both decided that it was the type of thing that everyone would just skim over, but it was still technically our first impression to make with everyone. I joked that I didn't want to make my first 75 words lame and she agreed. What if we instantly became known as the weird or awkward new teacher because we wrote an awful description? We sat in silence for a few minutes before I had my response done.

"What do you think of this?" I said as I began to read my description, "Hello everyone! My name is Adam (aka Mr. Phillips) and I'm very excited to start my teaching career here at West High School with my very own math classroom. I majored engineering in college, played club soccer, and spent most of my free time at the movie theatre or exploring the city with my friends. If you like to watch baseball, kayak, or do crossword puzzles come find me!"

"Nice! I think you passed the normal and cool test with it," Natasha said. But she also began laughing after she said it for reasons I wasn't sure about.

"What's so funny?" I asked, grinning myself now. Her laugh was infectious.

"I was just going to say these sound like dating profiles, but I didn't want to make fun of yours," Natasha said.

"Oh, well umm...I don't know do you think there is anyway to write it so that-"

"No, no, no," she cut me off, "I think it's just how the prompt will appear. I mean think about it. There will be a headshot of us, with our age and alma matter along with this description. And mine is much worse!"

"Let's hear it," I said.

Natasha began to laugh, while trying to hold it back. She was clearly in a playful mood often, but I could tell that in the short time I had been talking to her I was able to put her at ease. And with her attitude, I was comfortable around her as well.

"I am Natasha and I could not be more excited to be teaching Spanish at West High this year," she said restraining her beautiful smile, "I just moved here and am looking to meet new friends to go hiking with, sample my experimental recipes, and grab an after work drink with (shhhh don't tell the students). My favorite band of all time is The Beach Boys even though I've never lived anywhere close to an ocean! That being said, I can feel the Good Vibrations of West High already! I can't wait for this year to start!"

We both laughed over her description realizing that she could copy and paste the text onto an online dating profile without any major changes. Despite our laughing fit, we both decided to keep our introductions the same. Hers was a few words too long, but we doubted anyone would notice or care. Natasha's upbeat personality made it easier for her to bend the rules, I hypothesized, not that she was doing anything malicious with her power over people. I could just tell that being a young and cute girl, who is flirting all the time even if she doesn't realize it, she probably has gotten the most of her personal connections. Who could say no to her?

For the next forty-five minutes we continued to fill out forms, alternating between silence and non-stop chatter. There were tax documents and leftover contract papers that we both filled out with much less goofing around.

When we were finally done we both packed up the papers in our folders and she came over to give me a brief hug. There was nothing sexual about it, but the feeling to me was electric. I was much taller than her so her head pressed against my shoulders. I felt her breasts, not large but not small either given her petite frame, press against me. The whole hug lasted no longer than two seconds but it was both comforting and exciting.

"I'm so happy I have at least one friend here now," Natasha said laughing.

"Moving isn't easy. Soon enough your apartment will be filled with too much furniture and you'll have too many friends," I said.

"Yeah right. It's going to take me ages to build all the IKEA furniture I bought," she said, once again, with a laugh in her voice.

"Do you need a hand?" I offered. It was not an offer that I had thought about until that moment, but as soon as I said it I knew it was a nice gesture to make, and one she would be silly to reject.

"Are you sure Adam? You don't have to. I mean that IKEA furniture can get confusing to figure out with those directions."

"It's ok," I said, "I majored in engineering so those skills better be good for something."

Natasha laughed at my joke and said yes, she would like a hand. I told her I had to stop back to my place to check on a package, but I would come by right after. It was a bit of a white lie. I did have a package I was expecting, but given it was just a new pair of running sneakers and my neighborhood was safe I wasn't worried about it disappearing. The truth was I just wanted a bit of a breather from Natasha. We had only been talking to each other for a couple of hours but I wanted to make sure I did not get either too nervous or too excited around her. Thirty minutes of relaxing driving alone would be enough to clear my mind.

I flipped on the radio to an oldies station. My father had grown up on 60s and 70s rock and always had classics playing growing up. I had taken a liking to it over most more modern music, not that I was a snob about my selection. After a song I head heard thousands of times before but couldn't remember the name of or the band that played it, the tune changed to one I recognized instantly. It was Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys.

I cranked the sound up and sped down the otherwise empty road. I was trying not to occupy all my thoughts of Natasha, but everything about her was too perfect. The song passed and when a song by The Rolling Stones came on I ended up switching off the radio so I could drive in silence. After the pit stop at my place, I grabbed a protein bar to eat and then drove to Natasha's place. It was about ten minutes from where I lived. Her apartment was the bottom half a house that had been converted into a duplex. She told me it was the only green house on her street, so it was easy to spot.

Before I could reach out and knock on the door, it flung open.

"I heard you pull in. How's it going?" Natasha was holding a container from IKEA in one hand but reached her free hand around my shoulder for half a hug. I reciprocated by bringing her towards me for a second.

"I'm doing good. So what crazy Swedish furniture do we need to build today?"

She showed me around all the boxes for her items. There was a small dining room table, a few chairs, and a bookcase. I had bought furniture from IKEA a month ago when I moved into my place. It wasn't just the price that was appealing to me. Though, on a first-year teacher's salary, it's not like I had much choice. But taking a pile of precut wood and going through the directions to make a usable desk or bed was fun to me. It was another chance to build things, like playing with Lego but for adults. The only difference is that the pieces are a bit less likely to be a rocket or battleship.

"Just tell me what to do. Building things is not my strong-suit," she said.

I opened up the box and took out the instructions for the table. I could tell it was simple. Pretty much all that had to be done was to attach the four legs and then a few supporting beams. Natasha helped me flip the surface on its back so I could begin attaching the legs. As I began she stood over me and watched.

"I feel like I'm not being very helpful," she said, "Do you want me to make you some food?"

"No it's ok. I'm not that hungry and this shouldn't take too long," I said. The truth was I wouldn't mind more food, but the thought of demanding things from her scared me. I didn't want her to get stressed making something for me. Besides, a plate full of food was not the one thing I wanted from her the most.

She put on the radio to the same classic rock station I had played earlier. I let her know I had heard them playing some Beach Boys on the way home from school, and she was happy to know I was a fan too. She began humming along to the radio, they were playing a Beatles song, and she walked around the room cleaning up the leftover cardboard boxes and plastic from the IKEA items.

"It should be all done," I said rising to my feet. I signaled her to come to the other side of the table and we flipped it with ease. The table was light and with out much trouble it was upright on it's four legs.

"Awesome! It looks just as plain and Swedish as in the catalog," she said, laughing at her own joke. She leaned over to me and squeezed my shoulder, "Thanks for helping Adam."

"No problem," I said. Her gentle squeeze seemed to imprint into my mind immediately. Even after her hand was off I could feel the exact places each of her fingers had pressed against me. "Let's get started on the chairs."

I went to work on the first chair. They were, if anything, even easier to assemble. Each leg of the chair had a single screw that was screwed into the base of the chair. Within a few minutes, I finished the first chair. I flipped it over and placed it near the table.

"I'm going to take a test run," I said sitting on the chair, "Well, it's not collapsing with me so I think this one is good. Most comfortable IKEA chair I've ever sat in," I joked.

She walked over and placed a hand on the back of the chair, grazing against my shoulder.

"It looks-", she began to say but the sentence quickly cut off and then transitioned to more of a mild scream. She began to fall forward, but twisted her body in an attempt to right herself. I reached out and grabbed her back, stopping her from plummeting to the ground. Instead, her ass fell on my knees and her back on the other side of me. I righted her so she was now sitting on my thighs with her feet dangling just about the ground.

"It looks," I said finished the sentence she had just started, "like you tripped on some leftover IKEA plastic." I still had one hand on her back. She seemed comfortable, with one hand by her own chest catching her breath. It had been a mild trip, but she was still turning a bit red in embarrassment.

"I'm such a klutz," she said, "after you finish building this furniture you're going to have to build a safety net for me."

I laughed at her joke. She began to laugh too which made her bounce up and down on my thighs. She made no effort to get up from her position and I was in no rush to force her off.

"You're going to need several nets for your class. Just think about how many chairs there are to trip on in there," I said.

She and I laughed again. Our faces were just a few feet away and because she was sitting on my lap she was taller than me for the first time.

"I'm really happy to have you as a friend Adam," she said. Her tone was very serious. For once, her laugh and smile went away. It's not that she looked sad at all, but she was looking directly into my eyes and it had a much different feel than any interactions we had before. I looked back at her eyes and then took the hand that was on her back and moved it up to her shoulder.

Without thinking, I leaned up and positioned my other hand on the back of her neck pulling her towards me. She went with my movements and lowered her face to mine. Our mouths met and we kissed. I lowered one hand down to her waist before pulling away. She followed by moving her face back. Smiling at me, she let out a brief giggle before turning away. It was not her typical laugh. It was much more of a laugh one gives when they are uncomfortable, or at least unsure what to do next.

"Do you want me to finish up the rest of the chairs now?" It was a foolish thing for me to say. I wanted to keep kissing her and for her to be in my lap, but in the moment I froze and said something instead of letting the silence linger.

"Sure, thank you again," Natasha said. She stood up, "I'm going to just organize some things in the kitchen."

I got to work on the chairs. Within fifteen minutes they were done, and Natasha was still in the kitchen sorting pans by the sound of it. I walked in to see what she was doing, and to let her know I was finished.

"Well, I'm all done with the chairs," I said standing by the kitchen door. I didn't move towards her as she was by the sink on the other side of the room.

"Thanks so much again," Natasha said. Her voice was quieter and more mellow than it had been before, "I guess I'll see you again at training tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll see you then," I said, lingering for a second. I wanted to kiss her again but based on her body language I wasn't sure what to do. I turned around to walk out the door but then felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun around and Natasha gave me a quick hug, while lifting her head to give me a peck on the cheek. It wasn't romantic or intense, but it was playful. It made me smile and excited to see here tomorrow.

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