““Anyhow, high school is just…The. Worst.” “Funny that you became a high school teacher, then,” I say, and she laughs again. “Something I should talk to my therapist about. Speaking of which, you could speak to the school counselor if you want. We have a psychiatrist on staff. A life coach too.” “Seriously?” “I know, right? Finding ways to justify the tuition. Anyhow, if not them, feel free to come talk to me anytime. Students like you are the reason I chose to teach.” “Thanks.” “By the way, I look forward to your and Ethan’s ‘Waste Land’ paper. You’re two of my brightest students. I have great expectations.” Dickens is next on the syllabus. A literary pun. No wonder Mrs. Pollack was destroyed in high school. “We intend to reach wuthering heights,” I say, and as I walk by, she reaches her hand up, and I can’t help it—dorks unite! nerd power!—I give her a high five on my way out.””
