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It was just my luck that the Help Wanted sign wasn’t on the doors at Hobby Lobby anymore, but I wasn’t surprised. Lots of people needed jobs. I could only hope that after I got my GED, they’d have another opening.
Still, it was just another thing.
I found the additional string I needed for the items I’d offered to make and some fabric in the discount bin that was definitely as good as anything else they had. Like usual, the whole department was on sale. So I filled my cart with all sorts of things. From zippers and buttons to replacement needles for my machine and new patterns. Even cushion foam that was usually very expensive was marked down a lot. The foam might come in handy to make some things for Abe’s furniture while I looked for a job in the coming months. Maybe it would add value and earn him more money.
Of course, I’d have to play around with it first, but in my haste to take advantage of the sale, I tossed what I could fit into my cart and headed to the cash register before I made myself late for class. I really didn’t want to go, but I’d made a commitment to myself and I wouldn’t give up just because it was hard.
Even though Hobby Lobby wasn’t hiring, I was going to get my GED and then I’d figure out what was next after that. One thing at a time, I thought as I unloaded my cart and paid.
I walked into the classroom just as the clock struck six and took my seat. I’d only missed a few days, but there were two faces I’d never seen before and the room felt different.
Then again, maybe it was just the ever-present attitude from Ms. Perry to my left.
I didn’t make eye contact as I moved my bag under my desk at my feet to keep it out of the way. She had a habit of always moving it with her foot when it was in her path. Whatever I could do to avoid her I did.
“Glad to see you, Myra,” Mr. Paxton said at the head of the class after writing a problem on the board. Math was where I had the most trouble. I could read the rules and understand the steps, but I had a difficult time applying them. There weren’t many resources I’d found that gave both problems and answers for me to work on. The workbooks I had were good, but I was so behind I would never get anywhere if I didn’t practice.
I often wondered how much of this sort of math people in the workforce actually used. I hoped it wasn’t too much, and I couldn’t even think of a single situation where one would, but I’d be ready.
Better safe than sorry.
I didn’t reply out loud, but I gave him a polite, tight smile as I put what I’d need for class on my desk and clicked the lead out of my pencil.
Hopefully, I was just having a bad night, and the work wasn’t getting harder. Because throughout the lesson and exercises, I remained confused and lost. Time seemed to drag. I barely took any notes, and I couldn’t keep up.
It wasn’t a good feeling.
I packed up before class even ended, and when our teacher dismissed us, I went directly to his desk.
“Excuse me, Mr. Paxton,” I said, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.
“Myra, I hope you’re doing okay.” He pushed his glasses up his nose as he lifted his head to speak to me.
“Thank you. I’m fine.” That wasn’t the truth, but I could have been worse. I could have been in Lancaster married off to some old man who was pumping babies into me. “In your email a few days ago, you mentioned a tutor. Is there a way I could get more information on that? I’m not doing very well in math.”
He offered a sympathetic smile. “It can be a challenge. I’m not that great at it either. I know just enough to be dangerous. And, well, teach this course.” He gathered a few papers, stood and lifted his briefcase from the floor to the desk to pack it up. “Tutoring might be helpful for you. I don’t know what your budget is, or even how much the rates are, but I should tell you it’ll probably cost. It’s not a service provided for free like these courses.”
I hadn’t thought about that. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much.
“I don’t expect to get better at math—and science too, frankly—if I don’t dedicate a little more time to them than just every few weeks.” The sooner I finished with class and passed the test, the quicker I’d be able to really do something.
My GED was one of the first things I needed to accomplish for myself, and so it got priority.
“All right then. Ms. Perry is right here.” He peeked around me and said to the girl who I’d sat beside, “Casandra, Myra is looking for a tutor.”
“Oh, no,” I interrupted. Her? “No. I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t my intention to be rude to either of them. He was only doing what I’d asked, and I didn’t want to offend her—Casandra—but there was just no way. “No. Never mind. I don’t want to ... bother her. I’m sure she’s busy.”
Truthfully, I just couldn’t fathom paying her to spend any more time with me than she already had to.
“You’re looking for a tutor?” she asked, walking up beside me.
“No, I was just asking about it.”
Besides, why would someone qualified to tutor be taking prep courses? That didn’t make much sense. Mr. Paxton clearly underestimated how much extra help I needed. Maybe he thought I meant study partner.
“I can do it,” she replied.
“That’s okay. I only asked because I was curious.”
Our instructors face glowed and his smile stretched from ear to ear. “Maybe you two should exchange numbers. Just in case. If you decide you want tutoring, you can call Casandra.”
“Drop the Casandra crap, Dale,” she said. Then Ms. Perry faced me, but I only turned my head to her. “Cassie or Cas is fine. If you need a math tutor, I was third in my class.”
I swallowed.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she added and rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid.”
Was that her way of saying I was?
“And I am?” I didn’t want to argue, and certainly not with her, but that had just been about all I could take for one day. I wasn’t a punching bag anymore.
Mr. Paxton didn’t offer anything but watched my interaction with the young woman beside me.
She stumbled over her words as she replied. “Well, I... I didn’t say that. I...uh...” It was the first time I’d witnessed her speechless.
I said, “I’m not stupid either, and I’m not rude.”
My heart raced. It wasn’t like me to speak out that way. As she scribbled something on a sticky note in front of her, my feet remained frozen.
Then she handed the yellow square to me.
“I didn’t mean it like that. This is my cell phone number. If you want help with math or other subjects, just text or call me.” She stepped back on her heel and scratched the back of her neck. “I’m sorry,” she said and marched out the door.
“Ms. Perry really isn’t as bad as she’d like everyone to think.” Mr. Paxton’s voice jostled me out of the moment and my eyes went back to his.
She had no trouble convincing me. “She’s not?”
“She’s had a rough year.” He shrugged on his tan wool sweater. “Maybe you can relate.”
I hiked my bag higher and pulled my car keys out of the side pouch where I’d stowed them. “I don’t know, but thanks anyway.”
When I got to the car and checked my phone, I found a text from Abe.
ABE: Going to Wednesday night service in town. You might beat me home. Thought I’d let you know.
I replied and then drove home kind of dwelling on the lesser pleasant parts of my day. For whatever reason, I found a fast song on the radio and turned it up. Even the stop lights, all of which turned yellow as I approached, annoyed me.