I have to admit that I was less-than-thrilled over her "Valley Girl" voice. She was eager, overly excited, and that bordered on annoying, but I stopped myself from thinking those negative thoughts. I thought of the days just a few years ago, when I was a young, eager college girl looking to learn anything I could about being an elementary school teacher. Now I was "Ms. Laura Redd", third grade teacher and I had been assigned a student teacher from Northern U. named Michelle.
Michelle called me over holiday break to arrange a meeting. She asked to meet at school and immediately I had to laugh inside, saying to myself "school is closed you idiot" but I think it was a rather innocent mistake. Perhaps she was a bit nervous or she believed teachers never left their classrooms. Instead, she suggested a coffee shop just down the road and I was now on my way to meet her there.
I pulled into the parking lot and immediately noticed that the coffee shop was quite crowded this time of day, a sure sign that holiday break was still in full swing as college and high school students stirred throughout the shop with their lattes and mochas.
Upon opening the door, I saw a pair of college-aged girls gather their things and head for the exit, vacating two plush brown leather chairs at a perfect time. I set my purse and standard-issue teacher tote in one chair and planted myself in the other. The chair was so comfortable; I sank into it. The angle of the seat went towards the floor so my knees were just a little bit higher than my waist. I could see the knees of my jeans and I crossed my legs, exposing the upper portion of my black boots and heels. I decided to wait for Michelle before ordering a drink.
Across the coffee shop, I observed a mish-mash of young adult behavior and remembered why I pursued the younger ones versus teaching high school or college. The majority of patrons were young women. My eyes were naturally drawn to two younger women seated just to the right of my straight-ahead glare. One girl was a little bit heavyset with short, dyed-red hair. She wore a strange purple dress with gray tights and absurd black boots that had a fluffy ball dangling off each. I was quite taken by the girl she was sitting with for she was a spitting image of my best friend from high school, Jill. She had nicely done brown hair that reached shoulder length, very full lips and breasts, and a shapely figure. She was dressed nearly the same as me, with jeans and black, high-heeled boots. The only difference was that her tight button-up shirt was white, while mine was a plum color. I could see from that distance that she wore only a white bra beneath her white shirt.
The two girls were perched upon high stools and seemed mired deep in conversation. They looked at each other deeply, as if they were consciously pushing to listen even more than possible. The girl in the purple dress suddenly, but slowly, placed her hand on the other's knee. It had not occurred to me until then that those longing stares and deep listening could have been more than two best friends sharing a deep, profound secret. I saw that hand move a little bit more and it approached the inner thigh, out of my line of vision.
"Ms. Redd?"
A voice shattered my stare and I turned to my left to see a skirt right in front of me at eye level.
"Hi, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Michelle."
I followed the voice to a face that was a bit olive-toned, featuring brown eyes, garnished with brown, wavy hair, and very full lips. I came to my feet, introduced myself, and offered to buy her a drink.
She sat her things down on the other chair -- a black purse, large tote bag, two textbooks, and a leather portfolio -- and approached the counter alongside me. Were we having a study session? She came ready for one, but I had no intentions of that. I was still on break.
I stood in line, keeping our spot, and Michelle stepped over to the case containing all of the muffins and cookies. It was my first chance to get a good look at her up and down. She came over dressed, wearing a tight, black, turtle-necked herringbone sweater and a charcoal gray skirt that did not fall much further past her knees. She wore black pantyhose that glimmered in the track lights of the café with platform, black, patent-leather shoes that snapped each time stepped. She was attractive -- no question about that.
We received our drinks from the far edge of the counter and arrived back at the big brown chairs. A table separated the chairs, but they were angled in such a way where our feet were nearly touching and probably would on occasion by sheer accident. Michelle settled in her chair just as I did but her descent was much more adventurous in that skirt. Sitting to her right, I watched her cross her right leg over atop her left. The charcoal gray skirt slid more than halfway up her thigh.
She started asking me lots of questions about my personal life, not just being a teacher. I appreciated her candor. I told her about my boyfriend, my dog, my condo, and my family and she reciprocated, though she did not have a boyfriend.
"You don't have a boyfriend?!?" I said rather playfully, somewhat surprising myself.
She blushed and shook her head. "No, just haven't found the right one".
"You will," I reassured her. "With those gams, I don't know how you haven't already."
Gams? Why did I use the word "gams"? That is such a creepy old man word. Michelle stared at me puzzled.
"What are gams?"
"Legs," I said quickly. "I have no idea why the hell I used that word." We shared a good laugh.
Michelle angled herself by slightly lifting her butt and extended her right leg by lifting her foot, allowing the light to shimmer across her pantyhose, showing off her legs.
