My government book lay unopened on my lap as Asher’s song slipped through my open window and wrapped itself around my heart.
I might be determined not to like the boy, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t love his song.
Asher
By the start of the third week of school, I’d begun to feel better about moving. My classes running smooth. I’d made a few friends. Joined a band. And I hadn’t had any negative interaction with Jordan. In fact, I hadn’t had any interaction with Jordan. And if I were being honest, that lack represented the only blemish on an otherwise bright outlook.
Jarom talked to Ms. Jackson about practicing during lunch and advising twice a week which ironically we had with Ms. Jackson who fully supported our desire to spend the period working in a practice room.
Until Friday when she called me over to her desk.
“Hey, Asher. I’ve been looking over your transcript and realized we need to go over a few things. Why don’t you pull a chair around so you can see the computer screen?”
I did as she asked, rolling a chair from the bottom tier around to sit a couple of feet away from her behind her desk.
“So, here’s a copy of your transcript.” A table appeared on the screen with my name at the top. She scrolled down to the end of the table and stopped. “This list at the bottom is everything you still need to do to graduate. You can see you still needed a math class, language arts, government, and science.”
“Looks about right. Is there a problem?” Glancing away from the list on the screen, I caught Ms. Jackson staring at me. I smiled and she looked away, clearing her throat. I tried not to let it go to my head when her cheeks turned pink. She wasn’t the first teacher to blush in front of me.
Not wanting to embarrass her any further, I focused on the screen, giving her a chance to collect herself.
She cleared her throat again. “Yes, actually.”
Great.
“What is it?”
Mr. Jackson smiled, firmly back in teacher mode. “You see, Lakeview participates in a program in conjunction with a non-profit organization that strives to teach students more than just academics. I talked with Mr. Allen, the principal, about the requirements for you since you’re already a senior and everyone else has been working on this since freshman year. He agreed to let you complete this packet,” she handed me a stapled sheaf of papers.
I flipped through it.
“Don’t worry. None it is graded. You just have to do it. And it shouldn’t be hard, but if you do have any trouble I can help you or any of your other teachers. All your classmates have had to do them as well, so you can get help from them if you need it.”
Time consuming busy work. Perfect. I didn’t have much of a choice, though.
“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll work on it. Is there a due date?”
Ms. Jackson shook her head. “No, just as long as it’s done by graduation. But I wouldn’t put it off. Chances are you really won’t be in the mood to work on it this spring.”
I smiled. “Right. Good advice.” I put the packet into my backpack, prepared to not look at again until I absolutely had to. “Thanks-”
“Oh, wait,” she stopped me, her face turning red again. “I’m sorry. The packet is only part of it.”
Awesome. I sat back in the chair and waited.
Ms. Jackson cleared her throat, something I realized she did when she was nervous. “Another part of the program requires a certain number of hours of community service-”
My eyes bulged. Community service? What the hell!
Ms. Jackson noticed my expression and hurried to reassure me. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. And I have a project in mind I think you might enjoy.”
“Okay, what is it?” I didn’t want to be a jerk, but come on. Community service? Wasn’t that for delinquents?
“Basically, it’s mentorship for a student over at the middle school. You would go over there during your flex period twice a week and share your talent for music.”
Music didn’t sound so bad. “So, I’d what? Teach guitar or something?”
Ms. Jackson nodded. “Yeah, if you want. Or you could sing. Piano. Whatever the two of you decide. As long as you provide a positive role model with a focus on music. Twice a week for the semester and you’d have all your hours finished before Christmas. How does that sound?”