Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
When the school bell rang, the students filed into the room, some looking more bedraggled than others. I was always perched at the door and had special handshakes for each of the students, which they really got a kick out of, even the ones who acted too cool for school. Most just wanted high fives or fist bumps, but some got creative using elbows or knees. At least it got them energized for the lesson. Mostly.
“Okay, let’s turn to page twelve in our workbooks,” I said once they were all seated and quiet. “Soil.”
There were some groans.
“Yes, I know it sounds boring, but we’re going to get our hands dirty today.” I motioned to the bags I had dug out of my cabinet. “Chase, can you start us off by reading the intro paragraph?”
“Sure, Mr. Bloom.”
Chase was known as one of the more disruptive students in the school—at least, that was what I’d overheard in the teachers’ lounge. It set my teeth on edge because I used to be a lot like him. I was a mess as a kid, and when I was eventually diagnosed with ADHD at eleven and placed on meds, my life changed. I could concentrate in school for the first time and actually aspire to something. It was the year after Mom had left Dad, so everything felt more hopeful, and as a result, my entire demeanor improved. I’d enjoyed school and home life for the first time ever. I had even joined clubs and sports.
Not that Chase’s home life compared, necessarily, outside of him being raised by his mom. Still, I’d try to have a discussion with his mother at upcoming conferences about his difficulties with attention and impulsivity. For now, diverting his brain to a focused activity helped. He loved working with plants, so this class was a no-brainer for him.
I watched as some of the other kids rolled their eyes when he read too fast and fiddled in his seat. Damn, middle school could be brutal on a kid’s social life.
I’d never been shy and always stood up for what was right, but I knew how much peer pressure could influence you. It was why Anthony always asked me how his daughter was doing, even though I’d never had her in one of my classes.
After the students planted flowers using different types of soils, something they seemed to enjoy, I moved on to my other classes of the day, and before I knew it, I was walking to my car, heading home to shower and get ready for dinner.
The woman I was meeting was someone I’d found on a dating app. I was already nervous because my track record wasn’t great, but I pushed on because they couldn’t all be bad, right?
I showed up ten minutes early to the restaurant and kept swiping my hands on my jeans as I waited for her. Thankfully, she wasn’t too far behind, but the next two hours were a bit painful. The conversation, while mostly pleasant, was stilted because there was no spark. I knew right away, but I couldn’t be rude.
We lingered in the parking lot. “It was, um, nice meeting you.”
“You too. Take care,” she said, lifting her hand in a wave.
I blew out a breath, relieved she felt the same. On to the next one. Or not.
I slid behind the wheel and drove home. Sometimes going through the motions was more than it was worth. Thing was, I wasn’t a hookup sort of guy. Not unless I got the urge. Don’t get me wrong, I’d gone on a bender after my divorce. I was so bitter, and I screwed my way through a few women who were after the same thing. But that got old fast.
When I keyed into my place, I felt a bit stir-crazy. So instead of turning on the television, I pulled out my acoustic bass. I switched between electric, acoustic, and upright, but that last was more work than it looked. It was a monstrosity to bring onstage, and we only used it for certain sets.
I strummed softly, trying to remember one of the newer songs we’d written. I wasn’t that worried about the neighbors hearing because these walls were paper thin, and I’d listened to my share of loud phone calls and family feuds. Though, occasionally, someone would bang on the walls or call the super to complain. I hoped no one would do that tonight.
I set down the instrument and headed toward my upright bass. Lifting it off its stand, I positioned myself behind it. I normally used my fingers when I played, but this time I lifted the bow to create a richer tone. The sound was deep and haunting and reverberated through my bones, exactly what I needed to rid myself of this nervous energy.