The Real World

Love.

It’s a funny word. It’s funny in the sense that any sixteen-year-old boy could possibly claim to have experienced it. Yet, for Zachary Jones, the shy, sheepish sophomore at West Valley High School, this word seems to be the air, food, and water of his existence. With every step, with every breath, with every heartbeat, love consumes every facet of his being. It seems that his world is not the real world, but it is a make-believe world: one in which his fiery passion for winning Lisa Sherman’s affection is totally and permanently satisfied.

Certainly, on this school day, his feelings are no different. He boards the rickety old yellow bus parked in front of his driveway and, as is his custom, abruptly plants himself on the second row from the front. He knows that, in this quiet sector of the vehicle, his romantic daydreams will not be interrupted by unruly teenagers that mock his pimple-bruised face and his antediluvian conservative dress composed of a green flannel shirt tucked in to a stiff, clean pair of blue jeans. Of course, there was a day when even the second row wouldn’t have delivered him from the merciless insults of his peers. However, this is high school. While it would be a severe stretch of the imagination to say that these young people are mature, it is nevertheless true that the same teenagers who succeeded at giving Zachary a swirly fifteen times during his middle school years have now learned to mind their own business to a certain degree.

Zachary is a nerd; he was always destined to be one. Even before he began his erratic obsession with old-fashioned clothing and before his face began to reveal the wear and tear of adolescent acne, he was, to say the least, a socially awkward child. During recess in elementary school, his desire for solitude would have led him to play by himself. He dared not do that, however, because he knew that the teacher on recess duty would surely notice his lack of relational adaptation and encourage him to find a playmate. Therefore, he usually ended up playing with Steve and Ike, two notoriously geeky Star Trek fanatics whose poignant body odor was egregiously profuse even by nine-year-old standards! Zachary shared neither their body odor nor their love of science fiction, but he reasoned that it was better to have nerdy friends than to have no friends at all.

As Zachary progressed into middle school, he began to have second thoughts about his choice of hygienically-challenged friends. By then, however, it was too late. During his middle school years, not a day went by where he wasn’t teased, laughed at, or physically tortured by his peers. It didn’t help matters that Zachary Jones was perhaps the most athletically inept student at West Valley Middle School. Zachary’s physical education instructor (who seemed more like a drill sergeant than a public school teacher) always insisted on choosing captains in the class who would, in turn, pick teams for themselves. There was hardly ever a day when Zachary wasn’t the last pick. Even Steve, Ike, and the fat kid were selected before Zachary was!

Unfortunately, West Valley Middle School didn’t provide single-sex P.E. classes. As a result, Zachary’s almost effeminate athleticism received front-and-center attention from seventh and eighth grade cuties. With this experience, Zachary’s teenage social life was destined to be a monumental failure. As the restless junior high animals teased his clumsy hand-eye coordination and his girly tossing of the football, Mr. Bearwater did nothing to intervene as he sat idly by in his folding chair, scrutinizing the sweaty, toothpick thighs of the underage girls.

As for Zachary’s obsession with tucked-in flannel shirts, that stemmed largely from two factors: his adoration of Kevin Arnold from The Wonder Years and his loathsome demeanor toward the “establishment” kids at West Valley High School. The youths that once harassed Zachary were the same ones who shopped at upscale department stores and drained their parents’ charge cards with faded, ripped, and paint-stained blue jeans. He would, therefore, buck the trend by donning the more refined attire of a previous generation.

He did not, however, respond to his teenage persecution by becoming a Goth or an Emo. Zachary is a proud member of West Valley Presbyterian Church, which is, by all accounts, the most traditional, old-school congregation in the area. His church doesn’t have drum sets and electric guitars like the churches of the establishment kids do. The people in his church don’t raise their hands or mindlessly recite “7-11 choruses” (seven words sung eleven times) from a PowerPoint presentation. No, his church still uses the same majestic pipe organ that was purchased over sixty years ago by the fledgling congregation. Though Zachary is not the type to wear his religion on his shirt sleeve, he also has an abiding reverence for the faith of his parents, at least enough to keep him from blemishing the Temple of the Holy Ghost via death metal music, black trench coats, and sundry piercings and body art.

Now the acne-afflicted, hyper-conservative Calvinist boy sits on the school bus with only one thought on his mind: Lisa Sherman. The slim, blonde-haired Lisa is a year older than Zachary and is his polar opposite in just about every respect. She is a member of one of the establishment churches and plays the drums in the praise band, resulting in what Zachary decries as “the devil’s music.” Lisa’s choice of attire is trendier than what can be found in the latest Abercrombie and Fitch catalog and is almost as revealing. Lisa’s right-wing evangelical parents have long derided her rebellious choice of apparel, but they have, inexplicably, been content to merely badger her about it.

Lisa’s lack of discernment in clothing, however, is infinitesimal compared to her lack of discernment in the dating realm. All of Lisa’s boyfriends have shared three common characteristics: they were all drug users, they all made numerous failed attempts to get Lisa to sleep with them, and they all had a weak adolescent semblance of facial hair. These boys provided yet more fodder for her parents’ ceaseless nagging. Nevertheless, there was no familial intervention into these vexatious relationships.

To Zachary, however, none of these difficult realities seem to matter. He believes that Lisa is nothing more than an innocent victim of a seemingly unending string of unstable companionships. He believes that, deep down, underneath the veneer of her tight, skimpy garments, there is a tender heart longing for a level-headed, pious young man such as himself. Never mind the fact that Lisa is currently dating yet another perverted, imbecilic pagan; deep down, she’s a damsel in distress eagerly waiting for the dashing allure of a knight in shining armor, even if that shining armor consists of nothing more than an old-fashioned, green flannel shirt.

What evidence does Zachary have that Lisa does indeed harbor such suppressed romantic emotions? The evidence came three weeks ago in geometry class. This is the class where Zachary has, by a stroke of divine favor, been granted a seat next to Lisa. His Reformed theology tells him that there are no accidents with the Almighty; hence, although Mr. Parker claimed that the seating chart was randomly selected by a computer, Zachary knows that it was really part of the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God. This seating arrangement can only lead to the logical conclusion that the coming together of Zachary and Lisa was, in fact, decreed in eternity past.

While Mr. Parker was monotonously rambling about the Pythagorean theorem, Lisa inadvertently (or, as Zachary thinks, perhaps intentionally) dropped her pencil. Zachary instantly lunged forward from his desk and snatched the mechanical writing utensil, handing it back to Lisa. Lisa offered a sincere grin and, with her soft, soothing voice, replied, “Thanks!” If all of this weren’t enough to clearly indicate Lisa’s true feelings for him, what happened next hammered the last nail into the coffin of doubt. She gave, with her mascara-bathed eyelashes, a split-second wink. Zachary was stunned. His heartbeats were thumping in rapidfire succession and sweat was pouring like a mighty waterfall from his brow. He didn’t hear another word that Mr. Parker spoke that day (or that any other instructor would speak on that day or on any day following, for that matter); from that day forward, his soul, his life, his all would be Lisa.

Zachary spends the entire bus ride to school in an alternate universe. In this universe, he and Lisa spend countless hours holding hands in the park. They lovingly embrace time and time again as the music of the whippoorwills hums lightly in the background. This scene would be perfect were it not for the scoundrels of Lisa’s past that keep interrupting their romantic repose. However, each time one of these nincompoops attempts to spoil their carefree fun, Zachary courageously steps in and delivers several body slams, pile drivers, and other spectacular feats from the world of professional wrestling. Each time, Lisa is awestruck by Zachary’s daunting display of boldness, motivating her to demonstrate even more public displays of affection.

Meanwhile, in the real universe, a dilapidated, burnt orange 1987 Geo Metro pulls up to the Sherman residence. In the driver’s seat sits six-foot-four-inch Joey Marcion with his two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle. He honks the somewhat faint horn of the Metro in order to summon Lisa. He knows better than to expect that she’ll be on time; he lights a cigarette while he waits for Lisa to determine whether her outfit is indeed sexy enough for public viewing.

Joey waits a full fifteen minutes in the car, which is ten more minutes than he typically has to wait. Finally, at long last, Lisa races out to the car. She flings open the passenger door and swiftly slams it behind her. It is obvious, by the look on her face, that she is immensely perturbed.

“I told you not to smoke when you’re in my driveway! What if my parents catch you?” she insists.

Joey nonchalantly mutters, “Your parents wouldn’t do anything even if I was smoking a joint!”

“That’s not the point! I’d still have to listen to them scream about it.”

After a brief pause, Joey sighs, “We’re gonna be late again. That’s the fourth time in the past five weeks that we’ve been late. Do you really think they’re gonna believe that we’ve run into traffic that many times?”

Flustered, Lisa complains, “I don’t care anymore! Just as long as they don’t see you smoking!”

This back-and-forth pestering continues for most of the drive. Toward the end of the journey, however, Joey has enough sense to change the tone of the conversation so that he can at least enjoy some quality fondling time before they go to class (albeit, somewhat limited fondling, based upon the fact that he must keep one hand on the wheel). With their tardiness, they won’t be able to stand in front of Lisa’s locker and make out as is their usual custom.

Back on campus, Zachary stands in front of his locker and loads the necessary materials into his bookbag for his first class: geometry. With each breath, Zachary’s adrenaline seems to surge further and further. He knows that, within a few moments, he will be able to get a front-row view of Lisa’s beauty. As great as his make-believe world is, it seems that he is always unable to remember Lisa’s features in vivid detail. No matter how hard he tries, his thoughts of her will never compare with the real thing.

Zachary also hopes that he will have the courage to speak to Lisa today. He’s not stupid enough to ask her out on a date cold turkey. But he is hoping that they’ll be able to exchange some brief small talk before class begins. Truth be told, ever since that fateful day three weeks ago, Zachary hasn’t had the courage to speak even a word to Lisa. Of course, she hasn’t made any effort at conversation either, but Zachary rationalizes this phenomenon by noting that she’s probably just as nervous as he is.

If Zachary is going to achieve any success with Lisa, he must do it during geometry class. This is the only time that he is able to see her without her other half, Joey Marcion. If Zachary even attempts to speak with her in Joey’s presence, he may very well find his face in the toilet bowl again, just as he did in middle school. Joey’s jealous wrath is meted out against any unsuspecting guy whose eyes wander into Lisa’s direction for more than two seconds. In fact, Joey once suffered (or, perhaps more appropriately, enjoyed) a two-day suspension from school because of his violent outburst against Mikey Millinger. Mikey, a short, stocky freshman with a voice pitch higher than Mickey Mouse’s, could never seem to break his habit of staring at a girl’s cleavage whenever he spoke with her. Most girls (including Lisa) thought that Mikey was funny and simply laughed at his undiscerning antics. Joey was not so easily amused.

Zachary slams the door of his locker and makes his way down the hallway to room 115, where Mr. Parker’s geometry class is held. On the way over, he passes Joe White, the tall, blonde varsity basketball player who was the chief instigator of at least one third of the swirlies Zachary experienced in middle school. He is holding hands with Kate Shiloh, the breathtaking brunette captain of the cheerleading squad. As he passes Zachary, he lifts Kate’s hand toward his mouth and lightly kisses it. He has matured somewhat since his middle school years, for he has largely relented of his physical and verbal torture of Zachary. Nevertheless, Zachary knows that Joe’s insatiably arrogant demeanor has not changed. His display of affection toward Kate is intended as a subtle reminder of Zachary’s eternally inferior social status. “You’ll never get a girl like this,” Joe once proudly boasted to Zachary. Zachary is hell-bent on proving him wrong.

As Zachary enters room 115, he looks toward the blackboard, expecting to see a list of scores from yesterday’s test. However, to his utter astonishment, the grades are not posted. As Mr. Parker notices Zachary’s confusion, he reports in his infamous monotonous tone, “I haven’t been able to grade the tests yet. The scores will be posted tomorrow.”

Zachary breathes a sigh of relief. He has traditionally been a strong A/B student and he has never failed to make the honor roll in all his years of secondary education. However, his obsession with Lisa has caused his academic focus to wane. He still completes his daily assignments, but not with the same vigor with which he did before. Whenever he opens his geometry textbook, his mind instantly manufactures his alternate universe with Lisa. Zachary, therefore, dreads the possibility that he might have done poorly on the exam and fears that Mr. Parker will take him aside and lecture him about his mediocre performance. At least he will be able to go one more day without enduring such laborious rhetoric.

Zachary takes his assigned seat four rows from the front in what is almost the exact center of the room. Most of the other students haven’t arrived. Zachary has intentionally arrived early in hopes that, perhaps miraculously, Lisa will arrive early as well. “Don’t mess up! Don’t mess up!” he mutters under his breath.

Zachary’s goal of not “messing up” may seem to indicate that he hasn’t set the bar very high. This achievement, however, seems almost more difficult to attain than hiking to the peak of Mount Everest. Zachary’s history with girls has been about as shaky as a politician’s history of telling the truth. In middle school, he made several nervous, awkward attempts to ask girls to the dance, but each and every time, he was rejected. Certainly, Zachary’s initiative and boldness were to be strongly commended, but his tactless approach certainly needed some fine-tuning.

Zachary’s nerves are heightened as he recalls an experience at the Middle School Finale. This dance was the last opportunity for mushy, hormonally-driven youngsters to demonstrate their still somewhat innocent infatuation for each other before moving on to high school (where the infatuation would be much less innocent). Zachary made the mistake of attending the finale with Steve and Ike, a mistake which he thought would almost certainly guarantee him a dateless evening.

With the lights dimmed, the sappy eighth grade couples tenderly embraced each other during the overly sentimental 80s love song. Zachary, meanwhile, sat on the bleachers with Ike. The two were in a particularly somber mood because Steve, who was by far the nerdiest and ugliest of the three, had somehow found a date on the dance floor.

“I can’t believe it! Steve gets a girl and we don’t! He just leaves us here, all by ourselves!” Ike bemoaned.

“It’ll be okay, Ike. I’m sure you’ll find someone someday,” Zachary replied, though with sincere doubts about Ike’s ability to get a girl.

“Well, what are we gonna do now? Just sit here?” Ike inquired.

“That’s what we would have done if Steve were here.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t look as bad when there’s three of us! Now it looks like we’re gay!”

“Nobody’s gonna think we’re gay. They’re only gonna think that if we go out on the dance floor together.”

There was a moment of silence between the two before Zachary began speaking again.

“It does stink, though.”

“I know it stinks. It stinks so much that I’m gonna find a girl!”

“Come on Ike! You can’t do that! Then, I’m gonna be all by myself!”

“Not if you get one too!”

Ike abruptly left and disappeared into the sea of eye-baby manufacturing eighth graders. Zachary, either because of laziness or despair, made no effort to chase after Ike. He sat on the gym bleacher alone, discouraged, and pouting. “It’s not fair!” he told himself.

It was right at that moment when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a girl sitting by herself on the next set of bleachers. It was Sherry O’Neill, a reasonably attractive and modest girl that attended his church. He told himself, “What do I have to lose?” He got up and began making his way over to Sherry’s seat. But as he walked, he had severe hesitations. After all, he thought that Sherry already had a boyfriend. Maybe her significant other had just gone to use the restroom or something. Maybe she’s waiting for him to come back.

Zachary kept pacing back and forth. He would get motivated to ask, but then he would hesitate. He continued this cycle until, finally, he made a steadfast determination to go in for the kill. But by the time he found the courage to approach Sherry, the last sentimental 80s love song was complete. The dance was over and with it, his last opportunity to enjoy a fond expression of middle school puppy love. To make matters worse, he found out the next day that Sherry was indeed single that night, though it didn’t take long for another enthusiastic, charming jock to win her heart. Even worse, he also learned that Ike was able to secure a dance that night! With the knowledge that both of his smelly, science fiction friends had achieved romantic success, it didn’t take long for all of his self-esteem to utterly evaporate.

This memory is almost enough to evaporate Zachary’s self-esteem today. However, he reminds himself that, if Steve and Ike can get dates, surely he can too. This thought prompts the determination that he will speak to Lisa today, if it’s the last thing he does. He will not be deterred by doubts and fears. The only thing that could possibly stop him is Lisa’s failure to show up for class.

As the seconds wind down, Zachary begins to think that his hopes of conversing with Lisa will be dashed. It just so happens that, when he finally musters the courage to use his vocal cords, he has no opportunity to say anything. When Zachary looks up at the clock on the wall and realizes that there are only thirty seconds until class starts, he gives up all hope of being able to speak to Lisa.

Right at this moment, Lisa instantly rushes into the classroom and claims her assigned seat right next to Zachary. This is it. It’s time for Zachary to shine. It’s time for Joe White’s prophecy to shatter into smithereens like a failed televangelist rapture prediction. Zachary must arise because a wild boar has invaded his vineyard; it is high time for that evil boar of timidity and doubt to be swiftly and utterly slain.

Somehow, magically, the words escape Zachary’s mouth, “Hey Lisa.”

With a smile, Lisa responds, “Hey! How’s it goin’?”

Awesome! Excellent! Superb! There are no adequate words to express Zachary’s unadulterated joy at this moment. Zachary has just done it: he has climbed Mount Everest. He has successfully initiated cliché-level conversation with the girl of his dreams! But he is far from content to stop there.

“I’m good. And you?”

“Could be better.”

“Darn right it could be better!” Zachary thinks, and then asks, “Oh? And why is that?”

Lisa sighs, “It’s complicated.”

In a very uncharacteristic, sympathetic tone, Zachary shoots back, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

At this moment, the bell rings and Mr. Parker steps to the front of the class to begin the day with his entirely lifeless vocal quality. It didn’t matter how much coffee a student drank in the morning; it was well-nigh unto impossible to stay awake during Mr. Parker’s mathematical lectures. It certainly seems that today will be no exception to that rule.

“Class, I have not finished grading…your tests.”

Mr. Parker’s lectures were not only monotonous, but they also consisted of several awkward pauses. It was estimated that, during a typical fifty-minute class period under his tutelage, at least fifteen of those minutes were nothing but utter silence. It is, everybody thinks, going to be a long day.

“It seems that, due to unforeseen circumstances…I don’t have the time to grade…your tests. The only possible way that they’ll get done…is if…I grade them now. In light of this…today’s class will be a study hall. You may spend the entire class…working on whatever you want to work on.”

An intense surge of excitement surges across the room. Students begin whispering, “Yes!” It is certainly time for celebration.

“You’re not in elementary school…you’re not in middle school...you’re in high school. Therefore…I’m going to treat you like you’re in high school. I’m going to go to my office…and grade the tests. School policy prevents me from grading tests…in the presence of students. I will leave this room and let you study at will…as long as you promise that you will not leave this room. I don’t care if you talk…I don’t care what you do…as long as you don’t leave this room.”

With one accord, the students shout, “Yes, sir!” in an unusual display of respect and deference. On that note, Mr. Parker grabs his briefcase and leaves the room. As soon as the math guru departs, an obnoxious, hormonally-charged couple rushes into the closet of the room and shuts the door. Other students grab their cell phones, laptops, and iPads and begin conversing with one another.

This is just the opening that Zachary needs. His interaction with Lisa earlier has heightened his self-confidence. He feels ready and willing to score some serious points on the dating front.

Almost effortlessly, Zachary looks at Lisa and tenderly asks, “I’m sorry if I’m being too personal, but is there anything bothering you? Do you want to talk about it?”

Nervously, Lisa explains, “Yeah…there is something bothering me.”

After a few seconds, Lisa says, “Come with me.”

Lisa and Zachary walk to the back of the class room where there are several empty desks. Lisa has a lot to get off of her chest, but she doesn’t want anyone else to hear. This is the perfect venue for her to unload apart from the presence of Joey Marcion.

Lisa begins, “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s my boyfriend, Joey. I just feel like our relationship isn’t going anywhere.”

Zachary is all-ears at this point. “How so?” he inquires.

“I dated Joey because I thought that I could change him. I’m a Christian, you know and, well, he’s not. He promised that he would come to church with me as soon as we started dating. He hasn’t kept that promise.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah…and he doesn’t treat me with respect. He treats me like….oh, I don’t know…like something he can use. He’s rude! He makes fun of me! He’s even tried to get me to sleep with him!”

For a few moments, there is silence between the two, the kind of awkward silence that naturally comes when you’ve told a complete stranger intimate details about your life. Zachary, however, will not allow this moment to pass him by.

“Lisa…you shouldn’t let him do that. You need a guy who’ll treat you with respect.”

“I know I do…I know.”

Almost supernaturally, Zachary further expounds, “Lisa, you’re an awesome girl. I know that you don’t know me, but I’ve seen you around and I’ve heard a lot about you. And you also happen to be really gorgeous! You can do better than Joey…you can do way better!”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so.”

As soon as Zachary says these words, Lisa begins to cry. Of course, Zachary isn’t going to let this opportunity pass him by either. He almost instinctively flings his arm around Lisa and squeezes.

“Lisa, it’s gonna be okay,” Zachary whispers.

“Thank you, thank you,” Lisa mutters in-between sobs.

There is nothing about this situation that isn’t utterly remarkable. Zachary has gone from geek to sleek within a matter of moments. For the first time in his life, he is firing on all four cylinders. He is a ladies’ man and he knows it.

“Get your hands off my girlfriend…now!”

Zachary quickly lets go of Lisa and both of them look up to find the infamous Joey Marcion standing over them with a look of fury in his eyes. He violently grabs Zachary by the collar of his shirt, pulls him out of his seat, and pushes his body against the wall behind him.
“If you think that what happened to Mikey Millinger won’t happen to you, you’ve got another thing comin’!”

“Joey, cut it out!” Lisa screams.

Joey ignores Lisa’s plea and declares, “Lisa is mine! You’ll never get a girl that looks like this…never!”

Zachary’s adrenaline is pumping. His immense, rapid success with Lisa has motivated a courage that he doesn’t realize he has.

“She’s not yours unless there’s a ring on her finger!”

At this comment, the technologically-inebriated students of the class begin to turn their focus from their computers and phones to focus on the ensuing fight. At West Valley High School, fights didn’t happen every day; these students are fortunate enough to get a front-row view of the action.

Meanwhile, Joey is shocked that any student would dare to talk back to him. How stupid could this clumsy, scrawny, zit-infested nerd possibly be?

“Boy, you keep your mouth shut!”

At this moment, Lisa rises from her seat and tries to grab Joey. Joey, in his undiscerning rage, jerks his arm back and sends Lisa to the floor. She begins to sob passionately and uncontrollably.

“That’s no way to treat a lady! You have no right to call yourself a man!” Zachary hears himself say.

At this accusation, Joey reaches into his leather coat pocket and pulls out a set of brass knuckles. He places the set on his right hand and rears his arm back, seemingly in slow motion from Zachary’s perspective. Somehow, Zachary’s ordinarily lethargic reflexes kick into high gear. He ducks just as Joey unleashes a furious strike, causing the brass knuckles to leave a gaping hole in the wall. As Joey spends a split-second in complete shock and awe over what just happened, Zachary grabs the other arm that is still tightly grasping his collar, musters up every fiber of strength in his body, and administers a painful Indian rug-burn.

“Ahhhh!” Joey cries.

“Joey Marcion! What on earth are you doing?”

Everyone in the class knows that voice. It is the raspy, deep, masculine voice of Mrs. Petersen, assistant principal at West Valley High School. Before she entered the field of education, she had served for fifteen years in the Marine Corps. The years have definitely made no substantial impact on her personal fitness, even if they did take away what little physical beauty she might have had in her younger years. Her muscular body stands infamously erect every day when she stands in front of the school buses, waiting for the pupils to file out and making sure that no one tries to do anything stupid.

Zachary lets go of Joey and Mrs. Petersen rushes into the room. She grabs Joey by the collar and begins to read him the riot act.

“Joey Marcion! I told you that if you tried to pull any more stunts, that was it! We gave you a two-day suspension with Millinger…and we decided to be nice! Don’t think I’m gonna be so nice this time! This time, I’m gonna make sure they throw the book at you! I’m gonna make sure you get expelled! I’m gonna make sure that you never get a high school diploma and, therefore, make sure that your life is completely meaningless!”

“Mrs. Petersen, come on! This kid just gave me an Indian rug-burn!”

“Aw, poor baby!”

The students in the class laugh. Mrs. Petersen’s antics here are certainly nothing unusual. She takes great pride in being a “no-nonsense principal.” While many other teachers and administrators are content to allow the students to run the school, Mrs. Petersen isn’t about relinquish her educational throne. She is still old-fashioned enough to believe that the inmates shouldn’t run the asylum.

“Mr. Marcion, you’re through!”

At this declaration, Mrs. Petersen forcibly grabs Joey’s arm and walks him out of the room. As they walk out of the room, the students are all in a state of shock. However, after they take a few seconds to reflect on what has just happened, they all begin to offer thunderous applause. One student begins chanting, “Zachary! Zachary! Zachary!” The rest of the class slowly joins in and the noise of the cheering in the room becomes almost deafening.

Lisa wipes away her tears and gets up from the ground. She then goes over to Zachary and envelops him in a bear hug.

“You’re awesome!” she whispers.

“No, you’re awesome!” Zachary firmly replies.

Lisa then reaches up to Zachary’s face and plants a peck on his cheek.

“I love you,” she says.

“I…”

“Isn’t that right…Mr. Jones?”

Zachary looks up from his desk at Mr. Parker. It takes every bit of strength in his body not to utter the words that were about to proceed from his mouth unconsciously: “I love you.”

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

Of course, Zachary has no idea about the subject of Mr. Parker’s inquiry. Fortunately, this time, he doesn’t ask a follow-up question. Zachary is safe for now.

Right at this moment, Lisa opens the door to the classroom and appears quite flustered.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

“Miss Sherman, I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been late…in the past few weeks. We may need to arrange a parent-teacher conference…in the near future.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Lisa rolls her eyes and claims her seat next to Zachary. Mr. Parker continues his uninspiring arithmetical rhetoric. As Lisa sits down, Zachary begins to stare at her, but she makes no effort to look in his direction. In fact, it seems that she is totally oblivious to his existence.

Zachary is back in the real world.