• • •

"Back up before y'all stress him out."

Nobody listened.

Of course.

"Oh my God."

"He's ugly."

"Don't say that!"

"He look dusty."

"Can he hear us?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Laken answered. "Which means he already hates it here."

A couple of students laughed while pressing closer toward the tank anyway.

Ziggy sat beneath the heat lamp completely still, tiny claws gripping the rock.

Laken smiled despite herself.

One of the oldest laws of behavior analysis: the reward system.

Her students had cared enough to try and fought like hell for a simple class pet.

Camaraderie, accountability— Laken watched it all unfold for this.

She thought they'd forget after maybe three days.

Instead, they became terrifyingly committed.

Part of Laken wanted to ask why they couldn't apply this kind of effort all the time.

The reward should've been a better future.

Then reality settled in just as quickly.

Most of the students at Maxwell Middle thought about life in days, not years.

They were trying to survive until tomorrow.

"A better future" wasn't tangible to kids who had never actually seen one.

They played the cards they were dealt.

There wasn't a "better life". This was the only life they knew.

Laken ran from those thoughts before she adopted them all, "Okay." She clapped once loudly. "Everybody sit down before I change my mind and keep him for myself."

"That's selfish."

"That's life."

Groans filled the room while students returned to their seats.

Mostly.

Ava remained near the tank quietly, watching Ziggy blink slowly beneath the light.

"He's kinda cute." She admitted softly.

"Thank you." Laken pointed toward her immediately. "See? Ava understands vision."

"He still ugly." One of the boys muttered.

"That's subjective. And what I told y'all about that word?"

Laken shook her head, smiling as she moved toward her desk.

Her phone buzzed once against the surface.

Noah: I just quit. Looking for a new job.

Laken rolled her eyes automatically.

pls find one quicklyyy. i hate an unemployed nigga.

Noah: Y'all got some openings at the school?

for custodians.

Noah: Just tell me which kids get on your nerves. I'll tear they ass up w that mop.

• • •

After lunch, Ziggy somehow became school news.

Students from other classrooms kept appearing at her doorway with fake excuses.

"Can I borrow a charger?"

"No."

"My teacher said I could come."

"That's a lie."

"...Can I see the lizard?"

There it was.

Laken laughed softly. "One minute. Then leave."

Three students immediately crowded the tank whispering dramatically while Ziggy ignored them completely.

"Girl, you created celebrities." Another teacher laughed while passing by.

"I'm starting to regret it."

"No you're not."

She wasn't.

Not really.

The room felt lighter somehow.

Even her difficult classes had been calmer all morning because everybody wanted "Ziggy privileges."

Middle schoolers were disturbingly easy to manipulate with incentives.

Laken finally sat at her desk once the room emptied again, rubbing at the bridge of her nose briefly.

"Ms. Green?"

She looked up.

Brielle stood near the desk awkwardly.

Which immediately caught Laken's attention because awkward usually wasn't Brielle's thing.

"Hey, Bri."

"You staying after school today?"

"Probably for a little while." Laken answered carefully. "Why?"

Brielle shrugged.

"Nothing."

Middle schoolers loved that word.

Nothing almost always meant something.

Laken leaned back slightly in her chair.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

Too fast.

Then quieter:

"I just kinda wanted to waste time before I went home."

As much as Laken tried to relate to her students, sometimes she realized it was impossible.

As a child, she always looked forward to going home. It was her safe place.

That didn't necessarily apply to them.

Laken nodded slowly, teetering between asking outright and baiting her into saying why she felt like that.

She chose neither.

"I'll be here." Laken stated with a shrug.

"Okay."

Silence settled for a moment.

Then:

"Thanks."

The second time Laken could remember her saying thank you, and much like the first, it threw her for a loop.

She reached for a stack of sticky notes on her desk, quickly jotting down her number, "If you ever need me, call me."

Brielle wouldn't look at her, "Like... Forreal?"

"Any time. Day or night."

Truthfully, she didn't think Brielle would call.

Most students never did.

Sometimes knowing somebody cared enough to offer mattered more than actually using it.

Brielle folded the note carefully before slipping it into her pocket.

Then looked toward the tank.

"Can I hold Ziggy?"

Laken sighed dramatically. "Zig, congratulations. You have fans."

For the first time all day, Brielle smiled fully.

• • •

Noah threw his meal prep container into the microwave before leaning on the counter.

He would've gone to the couch, but if he sat down, he wasn't getting back up.

Only one more week of torture disguised as practice.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Trey's FaceTime.

"You got one time to say some crazy shit, and I'ma hang up." He answered in place of a greeting.

Trey was driving, his phone on the dashboard, "Fuck wrong with you?"

"I'm tired." Noah watched the microwave plate spin, wishing it would hurry up, "I wish I could sit at a desk all day and act like I'm working."

"Let's switch lives— just make sure the women come with it."

Noah thought about it, "You want my girl?"

"Wes do. I'm cool on Lake."

That made him laugh, "Man, what you want?"

Trey glanced toward the camera briefly before looking back at the road.

"Alright, so boom."

Noah sighed immediately.

"Nah, be serious." Trey adjusted one hand on the wheel. "I need advice."

"You called the wrong nigga."

"No, I called the calm nigga."

The microwave beeped as he waited for Trey to say why he was calling.

He was drizzling sauce across his meal before Trey spoke again, "I'm talking to this girl, right?"

"The one who was at the club?"

"Yeah." Trey nodded, happy Noah remembered, "She cool, I'm fuckin' with her."

"...Okay?"

"The problem is, she said I make her feel like I'm not taking her seriously."

He probably wasn't.

Trey was notorious for wanting everything and nothing at all.

He wasn't notorious for sticking around after that subject came up. Trey usually left, refusing to even give the illusion of a commitment.

"Are you?" Noah stuck his fork through a piece of broccoli, "I mean, you called about it, so you must be."

Trey exhaled into the phone, "I kinda wanna see where it goes, feel me? Not on marriage type shit, but I can see us together."

"You told her that?"

"She don't believe me. Talking shit saying I never take her on dates— blah blah blah."

Noah laughed, "Take the girl on a date, dawg."

"I am. That's why I'm calling you."

He paused mid chew, "I don't know what the fuck for."

"Lake used to be smiling like a motherfucker, had Kels smiling when she told her about it. I know you got some in that playbook for me."

"That was specific to her. I don't even know this girl name."

"Tyler. Now, plan something."

Noah shook his head, "What she like?"

"Me."

"Bye, Trey."

"Wait!" He laughed, his eyes still on the road, "I'm never calling you again after practice you act like your period on."

Noah didn't give him anything, shifting through his food, trying to make more appear where there wasn't any.

"She likes..." Trey thought about it for a while, "Taking pictures— I bought her a new camera the other week."

"What she take pictures of?"

"Random shit. She always got it on her like it's a pistol or some."

Noah laughed, "Ask her where she always wanted to shoot."

"It ain't a real gun, bro."

"Pictures, dumbass."

Trey went quiet.

"Wherever she say, take her there."

"I should've done that when I first got the camera. The shit was six bands, I'm thinking that's enough."

"They just like to feel thought about." Noah shrugged, "The bank ain't stop printing money when they gave you some— anybody can spend it."

"That's why they call you Mr. Bitches." Trey's smile was wide, "I'll fuck so fast if somebody did that for me."

Noah's laugh made him choke, and he pounded against his chest to dislodge the chicken in his throat.

Trey continued like he wasn't concerned, "I wonder where she wanna go."

"Bitch." Noah was still clearing his throat, "I'm over here dying and you don't give a damn."

"Fire whoever made that meal prep. Dry ass chicken."

Noah shook his head, finally catching his breath.

"You a terrible friend."

"You still alive." Trey shrugged, "See? Resilient."

"Fuck you."

Trey laughed to himself before drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, "I'm calling you for every date."

"Please don't."

"I'm forreal. Shit like that is why you can disappear for years and then get your girl back."

His fork paused halfway to his mouth, "That's how y'all see it?"

Noah didn't usually care about optics. He had a person who focused on that for him.

There was a difference in how the public, people who didn't know him personally, perceived him, versus how his friends and family did.

His ego wasn't so large that he thought he'd show his face and immediately have Laken back in his bed.

But if that's how they saw it....

Trey backtracked, "You ain't really disappear on me, but I fasho was the one making most of the calls."

"I was busy."

"True enough."

The energy of the call changed quickly, and Noah didn't know where to go from there.

He wished the conversation had ended with dry chicken.

• • •

Laken answered on the fourth ring.

The camera faced the ceiling, something Noah noticed and questioned, "Where your face?"

"I'm in the tub." She laughed lightly, "I almost didn't answer— I hate for my bath time to be interrupted."

Noah knew that. It made him smile, "Call me back, then."

"No. What's up?"

He rolled to his side, stretching, "How was your day?"

"Skip the small talk, Noah. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing wrong. I was just talking to Trey earlier and he said some weird shit."

Noah knew why he was beating around the bush.

He didn't want her answer to mirror Trey's.

"Trey says weird shit every day of his life. It's why we keep him around."

Noah sighed, "He basically was like I disappeared for years then came back like everybody was waiting on me."

Silence met him briefly.

Not awkward.

Just careful.

Water shifted softly on her end before Laken spoke again.

"...That's not entirely untrue."

Noah stared toward the ceiling.

It shouldn't have bothered him.

Maybe bothered wasn't even the right word.

It sat heavier than he expected though.

"I had practice. Games." He rationalized, quieter now. "I wasn't just bullshitting."

"You have practice and games now."

He waited for her to keep going, ease the delivery.

She didn't.

"It's different." Noah said eventually, noticing how weak his argument sounded.

"Nobody is debating that. I think the point was, you get to decide when it's different." She finally adjusted the phone to show her face, "I don't think he meant it in a bad way."

Noah watched her quietly.

Laken looked peaceful. He felt nothing close to it.

The conversation with Trey kept replaying in his head.

Not because of Laken. Because Trey wasn't talking about just Laken.

He was talking about all of them.

"You feel like that too?" Noah questioned.

She looked away from the screen, "If I did, we wouldn't be on the phone right now."

• • •