Chapter 3: I enjoy my time before lunch

The next class was gym with Mrs.Jones.

I love gym.

I love to move.

Today was basketball.

It was the last week so we were at the game stage of learning the game.

I was a bit worried when Sally wasn’t back from Mrs.Rosenwater in time for the second bell nor for when we finished changing - she was the star player and on my team, again, if she were male.

She made it before we finished warming-up.

“Nice of you to join us Sally.” Mrs.Jones called out.

Mrs.Jones was one of the nice ones.

She was fit, happy, and as far as I could tell, incorruptible.

She didn’t play favorites, she didn’t care if you were good or bad, just that you showed up with a good attitude and tried your hardest.

She was even nice to our resident goth girl Avery. If I was the teacher, I would have driven her out long ago, instead, Mrs.Jones nurtured and protected her and Avery has turned into a good little basketball player - still didn’t like what she wore though.

“Ok, everyone, last day of games today. Tomorrow we start gymnastics.”

Half the girls groaned and other half brightened up.

“I know that some of you are self conscious about doing some of the activities - but I will never ask you to do something that I do not think you can do - and we will move at the level you are comfortable with.” Mrs.Jones announced to help calm some peoples fears.

See what I mean, Mrs.Jones is what a physical education teacher should be - she rocks.

I think she may be the only person on the planet that I would actually defend.

“Ok, Team A and Team B on court 1; Team C and D on court 2. Subs even 3 minutes on my whistle. Let’s do our best and have some fun.” Mrs. Jones yelled out.

I played ok, I think my mind was a bit too focused on lunch.

Sally didn’t dominate like she normally does. I guess playing with tired hands slowed her down a bit.

We still won and as Mrs.Jones has reminded us - “Ultimately you never remember the easy wins, only the wins that caused you distress, discomfort and forced you to grow.”

I will remember this win until at least next week.

“Jennifer.” Mrs.Jones called out to me just as we were heading to the showers.

We get an extra 20 minutes before the bell to shower and change - again something our old teacher never let us have, eating lunch all fucking sweaty sucks.

“Jennifer, is Sally ok?” Mrs.Jones is the only one, beside my grandma, that can call me Jennifer. She actually cares about me, us, not just about our grades, or if we will make her look good, but about us as growing human beings.

“Yeah, Mrs.Rosenwater just had her using her hands a lot in the first block.” I said.

Mrs.Jones being the extra sweet and caring person didn’t pick up on my leer and what I was actually saying.

“Oh, yeah, I remember how my hands used to hurt after writing a lot.” Mrs.Jones commented.

“Do not tell Sally this, but it was actually kinda good she wasn’t playing her best. It made for a much better and closer match.”