Which is how I end up in front of Miss Aubin’s desk. When I tell her my name, she closes her eyes. I get the feeling she is sorting through the files in her brain. She opens her eyes. “Eric Myles. You’re one of the boys from O’Donovan, aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Grown-up women like being called ma’am.
Miss Aubin removes her glasses and peers up at me. “So how are you liking Marie Gérin-Lajoie High School so far?”
“I’m liking it. Quite a bit, actually. It’s a lot bigger than O’Donovan. Plus it’s got girls.” I should probably not have mentioned the girls.
The corners of Miss Aubin’s thin lips rise a little. “Girls,” she says. “Of course. I hope they’re not causing you to be too distracted.” If she was not the Germinator’s assistant, I’d guess she was making a joke.
“Uh, well, a little.” Something in the way Miss Aubin watches my face when I speak makes me want to be honest with her.
“That’s perfectly normal,” she says. “You’ll need some time to adjust to being in a coed school. Now, how I can help you today, Eric?”
“I’m thinking about applying for the Student Life Committee. The Germ—” I catch myself. Is it my imagination, or does Miss Aubin nearly smile again? “I mean, Mr. Germinato said we should come to you for further information.”
Now Miss Aubin smiles for real. “It’s wonderful that you want to get involved, Eric.” She hands me two sheets of paper. “The first is a questionnaire. The second outlines what is expected in the essay. Basically, you should explain your motivation.” Miss Aubin rests her chin on her hand. “Why do you want to run for the Student Life Committee?”
At first I think Miss Aubin is only explaining how to write the essay, but then I realize she really wants to know.
“To tell you the truth, I was talking with a couple of my friends.” Is it too soon, I wonder, to call Daisy and Rowena my friends? “About how I’m opposed to the way the dress code works. And one of them suggested I run for the Student Life Committee—”
Miss Aubin does not let me finish my sentence. She tilts her head to the side to check that the door to the Germinator’s office is closed. He must be in there trying on baseball caps. “Eric, if I may give you a word of advice, don’t mention the dress code.” Then she lowers her voice. “Mr. Germinato reads all of the essays. You could mention recycling though. He likes that.”
“Great. Thanks for the advice,” I say. “Also, what did you call the school earlier? I thought everyone calls it Lajoie High School or just Lajoie.”
Miss Aubin walks me out to the hallway. She stops in front of the portrait of the woman with her hair in a bun. “That’s Marie Gérin-Lajoie. The school was named after her,” she says. I notice a gold plaque at the bottom of the frame. It says Marie Gérin-Lajoie, 1867–1945. The way Miss Aubin is gazing at the painting, you would think Marie was her grandmother. “She was a fascinating woman,” Miss Aubin says, and I’m not sure if she is talking to herself or to me. “Ahead of her time.”
It’s not until I am on my way to class that I realize I could have made Miss Aubin’s day by asking her what made Marie Gérin-Lajoie so fascinating to her.
As I walk into the classroom, something else occurs to me. Miss Aubin’s bra strap was showing.