Coda 01 - Promises

Not many, but a few. However, the fact remains that, like band, physics, advanced algebra, and calculus are all electives. So parents can decide. If their personal prejudices are more important than the furthering of their children’s education, well, frankly, it’s not our problem. I’m not going to lie to you, Jared. It’s not always easy. Kids can be mean and so can their parents. But it can also be very rewarding.”
    “I, uh….” I wasn’t exactly being articulate. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I had no idea. I really don’t know what to say.”
    “Well, we hope you’ll say ‘yes.’”

    S OME rational part of my brain knew that I should be thrilled about the job. But the rest of my brain, which seemed to be the bigger part, felt nothing but anxiety. I couldn’t really put my finger on the source of that anxiety. Partly it was the shop and knowing that I would be putting Brian and Lizzy in a bad spot. Part of it was the knowledge that some parents wouldn’t like it. Part of it was my own memory of the things that had been said about Mr. Stevens by some of my fellow students back when I was in school. Was there more to it than that? I wasn’t sure. I only knew that the very thought of taking the job had me breaking out in a cold sweat.
    Matt was overjoyed when I told him. He actually picked me up in a bear hug that had my ribs aching.

    “That’s amazing! And you thought they wanted to chew you out. Are you going to call Lizzy?”
    The thought of telling Lizzy was nauseating. “Not right now.” “Can I call her?”
I couldn’t even look at him when I answered. “No.”
    “Why not?” and the happiness in his voice had been replaced by confusion.

    “Because, I don’t know yet if I’m going to take the job.”

    “ What ?”

    “Which part of that sentence confused you, Matt?” I had meant that as a joke, but it came out sounding snarkier than I intended.
    “Fine.” And now he sounded hurt and angry.
“Let’s just make dinner, okay? We can talk about it later?”
    I was still avoiding going out with him. He flinched a little every time I insisted on making dinner at home and his eyes got a little darker, but we never argued about it.
    We did, however, argue again about his coworkers and my continued refusal to spend time with them. And that night over dinner, he dropped the Christmas bombshell on me.
    “Jared, the department is hosting a Christmas party in a couple of weeks, and I really want you to come with me.” He didn’t expect me to agree. I could tell he was already braced for a fight. And with good reason.
    I kept my eyes on my plate. “No way.”
    “That’s it? ‘No way’? You won’t even consider it?” I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice even. He never yelled—I think he consciously chose to not act like his father— but his voice would get low and dangerous.
    “I don’t need to consider it to know I’ll be miserable.” “I’m going to be miserable too.”
    I looked up at him and attempted to smile. “Exactly. So let’s stay home.”
    “Jared, that’s not the answer. We have to be together. We have to make them face it. Eventually it won’t seem like such a big deal to them anymore.”
    “Do you really think shoving it in their faces is the solution?” “Nobody is ‘shoving’ anything in anyone’s face. You think
    I’m going to fuck you on the buffet table or something?” His voice was quiet and tight, like he was carefully controlling every consonant, every syllable a struggle. He was seriously pissed at me now. “I’m not an idiot. All I’m saying is they have to get used to seeing us together.”
    “So I’m supposed to just stand there, pretending to have fun, while they point and laugh?”
    “Maybe, yes.”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
    That was the first night we went to bed still mad. I lay on my side of the bed, miserable, listening to him breathing on the other side. I knew he was still awake. I wanted so much to touch him, to bridge that gap. But there was nothing I could say that would fix it short of giving in, which I wasn’t prepared to do.
    It went on for days. I knew in the back of my mind that this should have been a happy time for us. And at times it was. We watched football and we made love a lot. But most of the rest of our time seemed to be taken up by arguments over those two points of contention: my job offer and his fellow police officers. ’Round and ’round we went, and we didn’t seem to be