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To say that I was excited about being back in school would be an understatement. I was one of those kids who genuinely enjoyed learning and being in the world of education. My parents made fun of me as I left our apartment because they said I was acting like I was going to kindergarten and not grown and heading off to night school. I’d even packed a lunch to bring along with me. Don’t get me wrong; the juice and cookies were good, but I’d need some real food if I was going to be paying attention in class for four hours.
In all of my excitement about going back to school, I somehow ended up forgetting my food. I would have asked one of my parents to bring it to me, but I decided not to since I knew that they were at home relaxing. I asked the school’s secretary, Adia, if there was any place I could get a snack, and she pointed me in the direction of the vending machines.
They had all the usual sweet and salty snacks that you’d expect. There was another machine that sold various waters, juices, and sodas. There was also a woman who looked like she was close to my age. She was eating some chips and looking at all the pictures on the walls.
The woman was pretty. She was light skinned with a head full of curly jet black hair that just touched her shoulders. Her face was gorgeous and her body was slim but still curvy. I wouldn’t have paid her any extra attention if it wasn’t for the fact that I could feel her eyes on me. I glared at her out the corner of my eyes and saw that she kept glancing up back and forth from the picture to me.
The woman approached me and tapped my shoulder. “Excuse me, but can I ask you a question?”
I nodded. “What’s up?”
She smiled a little. “I don’t want to sound crazy or anything, but is that you in that picture from a couple of years ago?”
She showed me the photo that she was talking about and sure enough I was featured in it. There I was smiling with my original class. I got a bit emotional but hid it well.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said.
“OK,” she answered. “I knew I wasn’t bugging out. So, if you were a part of that graduating group, how’d you end up in night school with me?”
“That’s the million dollar question,” I said with a smirk. “It’s a long story ,but the short version is this: I was struck by lightning on graduation day. It messed my memory up pretty bad, so I needed to come to night school to help get my life back on track.”
“Wow!” she said in wide-eyed amazement. “That’s crazy.”
I nodded. I was used to people having that type of response to my story. I knew that it was a lot for anyone to take in and I’d seen so many people react over the years in surprise. “Yeah, I know. I look at this picture, and I don’t even remember taking it. I barely remember a lot of the people in it. It’s crazy how life can be sometimes.”
“Trust me, I know,” she said sadly. “Life comes at you whether you’re ready for it or not. That’s what happened to me.”
“What happened?” I asked. Her sudden shift in mood had me interested. I leaned against the concrete wall while she spoke.
She let out a long sigh. “I feel like I lost everything,” she said simply. “A couple of years ago, I was on top of the world. I’d gotten pregnant during my junior year of high school and despite what everyone had to say, I had every intention on finishing up school and heading off to college. I was in a relationship with a great guy who I thought cared about me.”
“And what went wrong?” I asked.
“Everything. I was in class one day when my water broke. The thing is, I wasn’t due for at least two more months. I got rushed to the hospital and ended up delivering the baby. The doctors tried as hard as they could, but he didn’t make it,” she said sadly. Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “My boyfriend left me not long after. I didn’t know if it was because of me or the pain of the baby, but he was gone either way. I became depressed and never went back to school to finish my make-ups, even though they offered me the chance.”
“Wow,” I uttered. I didn’t know this woman from anywhere, but she was telling me all her business. It was admirable though. Sometimes it was necessary to share your stories with others. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“Sounds like we both have,” she said. “I’m Jennifer.”
“I’m Desmond, but you can call me Dez or Dezzie. Pretty much everyone else does,” I said. “What class do you have next?”
“Math,” she said. “You?”
“The same,” I responded. We pulled out our schedules and compared them, finding that we shared a handful of courses. We made small talk for a couple more minutes and then headed off to our next class together.