Anything Less Than Everything (20 page)
Read Anything Less Than Everything Online
Authors: Heather Adkins
“D
on’t forget to get these forms signed
and bring them back tomorrow!” I hollered over the bell.
So far we’d
made it through the first half of the first day of school, and the teachers
were as ready for lunch as the students. First days meant messed up schedules,
constant interruptions, and the knowledge that no teaching was going to occur.
It was nice to be back in a routine, though, to have something to keep me busy.
It had only
been a couple of weeks since I’d boarded the plane and put 500 miles between
Aaron and me. When Jillian had picked me up at the airport that night, she’d
greeted me with, “So, are you engaged yet?”
“Not quite,”
I’d replied, letting her decide which of the potential meanings for that phrase
I intended.
Aaron and I
had both changed our relationship status on BEsocial at the same time, going
from “unattached” to “in a relationship with...” The comments on that had been
instantaneous and hilarious, ranging from “I knew it!” (Marcie) to “Somebody
owes me some money, cause I CALLED it!” (Brandon) to “OMG! When did this
happen?” (Leighann).
Since then
we’d talked whenever we could, making plans for visits and calls. I would go to
his first game on Labor Day weekend, as well as one just a couple of hours away
from me a few weeks later; he would visit me for Thanksgiving; we’d meet at
whatever Bowl they went to over the holidays. It wasn’t perfect--far from
it--but we would at least see each other every month, probably more once his
season ended.
And just as
Aaron had predicted, not much had changed, except that our conversations ended
not with “sweet dreams,” but “I love you.” It might not have been perfect, but
it was just right. For us.
“Brooke?” I
heard Marcie calling me from outside my classroom. She popped her head in the
door.
“Hey,” I
said. “What’s up?” She walked into my classroom and sat on the edge of my desk,
picking up the new frame I’d added the day before. It was one of the pictures
Sara had taken that first night at their house. She emailed them to me after
learning about Aaron and me along with a message:
As soon as I started
editing these pics I knew you two were perfect together. My photography teacher
says photos don’t lie, that they always have a way of capturing the real
emotions of the subjects. And I could tell that you loved each other and that
you wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt my brother.
Marcie
sighed. “He is seriously gorgeous, isn’t he?”
“Careful,” I
said, eyebrows raised, “he’s taken.”
“Only you,
Brooke, could go to dinner at your grandmother’s house and leave with a
super-hot, famous, soon-to-be millionaire boyfriend. Never mind that he’s also
thoughtful and considerate.” I smiled at her assessment of Aaron. I didn’t care
about the fame and fortune, but he
was
pretty incredible.
“Um, Marc?
You know I love to have you visit, but did you come in here for something?”
“Oh!” she
exclaimed, putting down the frame. “I was just in the office and there was a
delivery there for you.”
“Do I want it?”
I asked. I envisioned stacks of paperwork or the junk mail that book companies
so often sent.
“I think so,”
she said with a smile. “I would.”
I walked down
the hallway to the main office, side-stepping the several parents there to
register their children and students already in trouble for violating the dress
code. The secretary looked up from her computer when I approached.
“Miss
Burrows! I’m glad you’re here. You have a delivery. We put it back there so it
wouldn’t walk away” she said indicating a table behind her.
On the table
sat a hot pink polka-dotted flower pot filled with a heart-shaped topiary of
jasmine, its tiny white flowers scenting the entire office. I knew whom it was
from, of course, but I still was nervous with anticipation as I opened the
attached card.
My Brooke,
Happy first day of school! I am
thinking of you--as I always am--but especially today. I know how you feel
about flowers, but these looked like the ones climbing on the swing at your
parents’ house so I couldn’t resist. And they should last awhile. I miss you
and love you.
Love,
Aaron
Unlike the
vases of roses so many guys sent, at which I had so often turned up my nose,
these flowers had no expiration date. They might not always bloom as perfectly
as they did now: a few flowers might even wither and die before being replaced
with new blooms. But with attention and care, they could last indefinitely.
Maybe even forever. And that was a symbol I could hold on to.
1.
1. sensitive
to the needs of others
2. good sense of humor
3. supportive
4. not controlling
5. will work hard to support a family
6. ambitious--has goals
7. can carry on an intelligent conversation
8. loves me for who I am
9. willing to admit when he is wrong
10. flosses
11. can cook
12. is good with kids
13. passionate
14. enjoys spending time with me, but...
15. has his own interests
16. trustworthy
17. kind-hearted
18. doer, not just a talker
19. faithful
20. is a good listener
21. cares about his appearance--not a slob!!
22. respects me and my ideas
23. values learning
24. willing to take risks
25. challenges me
26. gets excited about my accomplishments
27. shares my values and faith
28. willing to go outside his comfort zone for me
29. will back me up
30. protective, but not jealous
31. honest
32. shows he cares about me
33. has to be taller than me
34. gets my sense of humor
35. is romantic
36. thinks I’m the most beautiful girl in the world
37. considerate of my feelings
38. is gentle
39. values our relationship
40. thinks of me as an equal, but...
41. still willing to be the man
42. able to fix things--handy
43. is nice to his mom
44. well-rounded
45. intelligent--uses multi-syllabic words
46. is a good kisser! lol!
47. doesn’t try to change me
48. is excited to share things with me
49. doesn’t give up when things get hard
50. puts me and our relationship first
51. keeps his promises
52. respects my family, even if he doesn’t like them
53. looks sexy in a baseball cap
54. loves dogs, hates cats
55. thinks about me first thing in the morning
56. is a gentleman
57. likes football
The completion of this book is not
the fulfillment of a childhood dream as is so often the case. I didn’t see
myself as a writer until I was several years into my teaching career and in the
middle of a graduate program. Even then I didn’t see myself as a writer of
fiction. At all. But I required my students to write fiction, and I was
bothered by the fact that I was requiring them to do something I myself was
unwilling to do. I started playing with this little story, and when I reached
the 25,000 word mark, I decided I should probably go ahead and finish it. So to
my students, thank you. Thank you for giving me material (whether you knew it
or not), for brainstorming solutions with me, for being my first readers. Your
comments after you read it made me want to keep working to make the story even
better. Your numerous favorites and retweets and enthusiastic replies to my
tweet that the book was finally finished brought me to tears. This book is for
you and because of you. Thank you.
To Jay Callis, my favorite English
teacher, thank you for telling me I was a good writer. I’m not sure I would
have believed anyone else. PS: I still have the senior analysis paper I wrote
for your class, the one with the comment that my analysis was “awe-inspiring.”
I look at it when I need a confidence boost.
To the Leadership Team and Teacher
Consultants of the Middle Tennessee Writing Project, thank you for helping me
realize that one does not have to have The Next Great American Novel as a goal
to legitimize the writing. Thank you also for pushing me to share my writing
with others. That was—and is—hard for me, but I’m a better writer for it.
To Avery and Kyle, thank you for
being excited about the things that excite me. Thanks for listening to my
writing and writing woes when I asked you to, and staying out of my way when I
needed you to. I love you both more than anything.
Heather
Adkins lives with her husband and daughter on a (non-working) farm just outside
Nashville, Tennessee. She teaches high school English to the best students in
the world, and hopes they leave her classroom with a desire to go learn
something else. In addition to teaching teenagers, Heather regularly presents
and facilitates workshops for other teachers of writing. When not teaching or
ignoring the endless pile of laundry, she enjoys crafting, party planning, and
watching college football.
Anything
Less Than Everything
is her first novel.
Copyright © 2014 by Heather E. Adkins
All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or
other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of
the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
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