Girl Meets Him

Girl Meets the Forgotten

Electives weren't my favorite thing, but they had to be done. I loved helping around the school, so what's the harm? Maybe I can get a life lesson out of it.

"Who here knows about the Great Depression?" Mr. Matthews asked, startling today's history lesson.

"I thought it was called the Grand Canyon?" Riley said sarcastically.

"Who here knows about the Great Depression?" Mr. Matthews repeated. "Maya?"

"Nothing's gonna beat that, sir," Maya said, wanting to laugh.

"Farkle, (Y/n), save me." Mr. Matthews looked at us pleadingly.

Farkle and I stood up. "The year was 1929."

"The stock market crashed. Everyone lost their money and their jobs," I continued.

"And the people who were comfortable were now lost," Farkle said.

"And became known as..." I trailed off, pointing at Farkle.

"The forgotten," Farkle finished.

"Working-class people." Mr. Matthews drew our attention back to the board. "The heart and soul of our country, basically taken for granted in the first place, and now, discard and forgotten."

"How could that happen, sir?" Lucas asked.

"It shouldn't have, Mr. Friar," Mr. Matthews replied.

"But that could never happen to anyone in the Grand Canyon today, could it?" Riley asked.

"I don't know, Riley. I'm sure you would never take anyone for granted, right?" Mr. Matthews asked.

"I would never," Riley scoffed.

"And do you think there's anyone who cares about you who goes underappreciated or overlooked?" Mr. Matthews asked.

"Maya, (Y/n), my life is so much better for having you in it," Riley said.

"We know, pumpkin," Maya assured her.

"Thank you, Dad. For the first time, I actually understood something that you've tried to teach me," Riley admitted.

"Please, bell, ring. Ring! Ah." Mr. Matthews took his briefcase and walked out of the classroom.

"You could do that?" Maya beamed.

~~~

"Teacher's assistant. Fun," I said, stepping into my assigned classroom.

"Hello, Miss McGuire, and welcome to sixth grade," the teacher said, smiling brightly. "I'm Mrs. Phelps."

"Hi. I'm just asking, and I want you to be honest. How bad?" I asked unsurely.

"Oh, perfectly fine. Understand, (Y/n), that your teacher assigned you what fits your personality. And you know almost as much as I do. You'll be able to pass this easily," Mrs. Phelps assured me.

"Thank you," I said, smiling gratefully.

The kids walked in, talking loudly with their friends. A group of four stuck out to me. They sat in the middle front seats, two and two in a row. They reminded me of them.

"Class, this is Miss McGuire. She was assigned assistant teacher for electives. I want you on your best behavior," Mrs. Phelps introduced me.

"Of course," the girl in the front row said.

Throughout the lessons, I would pace around the classroom and give subtle warnings to kids who were talking. Mrs. Phelps looked grateful every time I helped her, every time I made things interesting in a kid's way.