Subjecting myself to Lucy’s kindergarten share day was one of the worst decisions I’d ever made.
That included the time I bleached my hair with hydrogen peroxide the summer of seventh grade because I’d heard Annie liked blonds. After three hours of intense soaking, my jet-black hair turned orange. I actually had to dye it black again before school started and paid Jaxon twenty dollars to help me and to never, ever mention it again. Twenty dollars in hush money so he’d shut up about my “Prince Harry” hair. I did all that for Annie.
I tried to blink away my exhaustion as Lucy introduced me to her class.
She stood next to me. “This is Nate. He’s my older brother. He beat up a lot of dead people this weekend to win money.” She took a seat on the colorful mat in the front row directly in front of me.
Mrs. French gasped and dropped the glue sticks in her hand. One of the boys whispered, “Cool!”
Twenty sets of eager little eyes waited for more details.
I laughed and rubbed the back of my neck. “Um, good morning, everyone.”
For some reason I expected them to say back to me in singsongy unison, “Good morning, Nate,” but they stared back at me with blank looks. With that introduction, could you blame them?
One boy in head-to-toe Seahawks gear raised his hand and spoke without being called on. “Were they already dead, or did you kill them to win the money?”
I rubbed the back of my neck again. “Oh, they weren’t really people. They were zombies—”
“ZOMBIES?” The Seahawks boy cut me off. “I kill zombies in Minecraft.”
Two of the girls in the front screamed and hugged each other. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if they were playing scared or were really freaked out. Figured it was best to play it safe.
“Okay, everyone, calm down. The dead people weren’t real. It’s like, you know, the games you play on your iPad or pretend shows you watch on TV. The zombies weren’t alive.”
A little Korean boy blurted, “I’m only allowed to play chess and math games on the computer. And no screen time until I do my jujitsu lessons and finish all my reading.”
Oh, I totally connected with this kid. Pint-size Nate.
“What’s your name, big guy?”
“James Ejoon Cho.”
“Nice to meet you, James.”
The teacher cleared her throat. “Um, Nate, he goes by his full name.”
James Ejoon Cho asked, “Did you really beat up pretend dead guys for money?”
Sort of? “Well, let me start from the beginning. My, um, friend, wanted me to be her partner in an outdoor competition where we win a cash prize if we made it to the finish line first. The zombies, or fake dead people, were obstacles. They were things in the way to make it harder to win.”
One of the hugging, screaming girls asked, “So you didn’t hurt anybody?”
Without thinking, I answered, “A few of the zombies got in the way, and I had to disable them. But they were all robots. Well, actually, I did have a few skirmishes with some real people, but they tried to hit me first. But my partner zapped one of them back in the butt, um, backside with a stun gun.”
Lucy yelled, “That’s not nice, hitting first!” She pointed to a sign on the wall. NO HITTING. “Did you fight them with your CRAP MACAW?”
“Krav Maga. And yes, Luce, I did use those moves I learned in my classes to defend myself.” The kids perked up. A few parents were definitely going to be asked about crap macaw tonight.
The kids’ comfort level grew. Soon I was bombarded with questions and comments.
“What did you win?”
“Did you get a ribbon? Or a trophy?”
“I’m going to be a zombie for Halloween.”
“How did you poop outside?”
“Do you run fast?”
“Is it true that zombies only come out at night?”
“Can I see the money you won?”
Mrs. French saved me. “Class, it’s hard to hear when you all talk at the same time. We have time for one more question. If you have a question for Nate, please raise your hand.”
Twenty hands shot up. Lucy beamed at me. Share day success!
“Let’s hear from someone who hasn’t spoken yet.” She pointed to a tiny little girl with purple glasses.
She put her hand down and wrung her hands. “Um. I forgot my questi—oh wait! I think I remember. Um…”
I ran through the list of potential questions and answered them. I’ll spend the prize money on college and my business. It was a great learning experience, and I would definitely do it again. Toughen up and you’ll go far in life.
With a loud clap, she yelped, “I know! Do you have a girlfriend?”
The Seahawks kid pointed and laughed at me. Thanks, kid. “Smoochy, smoochy, smoooooooochy!”
I’d never been so vulnerable in my life. Little kids who didn’t even know me asked me the one question I didn’t want to answer. Sitting attentively, they waited for my response.
Lucy came to my rescue. “Nate isn’t allowed to have a girlfriend because he is grounded forever. But his bestest friend-girl is Kate.”
Thanks, Lucy.
“Class, can we say thank you to Nate for visiting our classroom?” Mrs. French trilled.
“Thaaaank yoooooou!”
“Thank you for having me!”
The bell rang at the exact right time, and I patted Lucy’s head on my way out. When I got to the car, I rolled down the front windows and breathed in the frigid air.
My bestest friend-girl was Kate.
I folded my arms on the steering wheel and put my head down.
Kate, I wanted to say. I was an idiot. About the competition. About wanting the money. Fuck the money.
Please, call me back.