Get Dean out of my system? Hardly. Instead, he’s wormed his way into every nook and cranny of my psyche, and try as I might, I can’t kick him out of here. Worse, I’m premenstrual, so I’m extra grumpy about the situation. As if all that weren’t enough, now I need to put on a happy face and teach my students how our government works in theory when they damn well know how it works in practice. Might as well call this session Intro to Fairy Tales rather than Intro to Civics.

The sound of shuffling footsteps draws me out of my musings. It’s time to shut off the Dean compartment of my brain and focus on my class. After everyone’s settled, I glance at the empty desk where Layla usually sits. I shouldn’t have favorites, but I’ll confess to having a soft spot for her. She wants to be a paralegal. I even connected her with Lina, who was one herself before she became a wedding planner, so Layla could get the real scoop on her dream profession. “Has anyone seen Layla?” Most of the students shrug.

This isn’t like her. She’s punctual. And uber responsible. If she’s going to be late to class, she sends an email. She’s never missed a class altogether. I look up to find the rest of the students staring at me expectantly. “Sorry, everyone. Turn to page one-forty-six in your study guides. We’re going to talk about capitalism today. But first, let’s begin with a question: Can anyone tell me what Biggie Smalls meant when he said, ‘Mo money mo problems’?”

After class, I check email on my laptop, still distracted by Layla’s absence. Sure enough, a new message from her sits in my inbox. That’s my girl. It reads:

Hello, Ms. Pereira:

I’m sorry I missed class today. I wanted to tell you this in person, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get out there anytime soon. A job opportunity fell into my lap, and I had to take it. Unfortunately, it means I won’t be able to attend your class anymore. It’s just Mom and me, so I really don’t have a choice. I hope you understand.

Thank you so much for making school fun again. If I’d had you as a teacher in high school, I probably would have finished.

Sincerely,

Layla