Kayla Montejo was always the last one to wrap up the class on the last day of the semester. She didn't mind, though she always noticed, how some of her students either looked at their watches every ten seconds or constantly made pointing marks on the desk with their pens. Or how they stomped their feet with rhythmic sounds as they waited for the farewell bell of the school year.
She didn't mind, because every time, she wanted to end the semester with stories that helped her students cherish the arts. She wanted a part of her with them -- something they could bring to the next stage of their college years.
She had a lot of stories to remember about each class, too. She took most of them with her as she went home to her apartment and posted each thru colorful post-its on her mini-library wall. Just a word or a phrase and moving pictures with faded sounds of laughter would flash in her head. Then her world would turn out more than okay again. That was her fulfillment; being able to remember details of the people whose lives she'd touched.
With this one, she had to accidentally twist her ankle so they would strive and perfect their chasse. It might have taken them days – just as her healing did – but it was well worth her bench time. She was able to see them dance and smile and laugh. And basically, have fun.
Because that is what's important, right? Be able to do what your heart dictates and find happiness in it? Well, that was more than enough for her. For no matter the average pay and the exhaustion, she could see herself making a difference. She was a twenty-six-year-old dancer and teacher. For her, that should be more than enough.
"Miss Montejo?" A female student, whose name would never escaped Kayla, raised her hand.
This student was her one of her success stories. When everyone in the Philippine Arts University had already given up on her, Kayla didn't.
"Yes, Jenna?" Kayla acknowledged her with a smile.
"Will you and Mister Marionette be dating this summer?" she asked.
Kayla chuckled. It might have sounded more like a giggle to the junior class, for they stopped moving and turned all their attention on her. That question hadn't escaped a year or a class since Eric Marionette started working for PAU four years ago. And the question always came out at the end of the year, when the country was all ready for summer. When everyone was ready for romance.
"Mister Eric Marionette and I are best friends, and yes we might be doing some stuff together. Same as the last three summers," she paused. "But I believe I will find a man I deserve whenever it may be."
It took her a while to realize she used the word will this time, rather than her usual might. It was as if she knew exactly what would happen when she returned home. She felt it. In her heart, she believed it was time.
It also took a while before she realized the class was staring at her, giggling about how she had taken her daydreams to the workplace again. Yeah, it happened a lot. Especially the past months, when most of her friends went AWOL on her just to be with newfound loves over the summer or over Christmas break, when they visited their provinces. Good for all of them. Kayla wished she could just meet a new face whenever she returned to Tarlac, but lo and behold. She knew almost everyone in their area, and every guy around her age was already taken.
She would have to admit that she had fancied meeting a handsome guy. A tall, dashing guy with a mid-range corporate suit and manners to match his perfect face. She wouldn't want a guy from the arts like her, for by gods, she had dated someone like that and it was disaster. The guy couldn't stop yapping about the new songs he wrote or the band he was trying to organize, and he expected Kayla to do the same. That was the worst part. She didn't do band-worship, much less guy-worship. But she was, in reality, a hopeless romantic.
She had always fancied an unusual kind of love, an adventure if she would be given the chance of it. It would be something a little more dramatic than the other relationships she had had, but slightly less glamorous than those of the rich and famous. It would be a fairy tale, but with a twist of her battles and her conviction that she could dictate her life, and that she could, in every way, succeed as a dance teacher at the same time.
Then again, a fantasy just the same.
The final bell for the day rang about the halls and the students stood from their chairs, waiting for her final goodbye. She snapped out of her daydream, all red as she would imagine, and stared at each of the faces she hoped would be back the next year for more of what she could give. She was never good in remembering faces by their names, but she was best in knowing what story hid beneath the smiles and their eyes; for in each story, she could see herself dancing with them and sharing their feelings.
"We will see you again next year, won't we, Miss Montejo?" a male student asked.
She laughed and nodded, feeling praised and love without the need for the actual words themselves. "Of course. I will be here and I will see you all. So do not forget to…"
"Find the rhythm within!" The class finished what she was about to say and it pleased her.
She watched as each of them went out, while some gave her reassuring hugs. She needed that, much as she would not admit. She needed to know she was doing her job well and that she was as effective as she thought herself to be.
Bringing her things to the empty faculty room, she looked over Eric's table and smiled. Eric must be saying his goodbyes to his students as tearfully as she had and it made her feel an inch over delight.
You see, it took a while for Eric to gain his love for teaching. He was a good modern dancer. The best in his class, so she heard, but he was not keen to becoming an instructor. In his first year of teaching, Mister Frey, their department supervisor, often scolded him for releasing his class earlier than supposed to or for giving them less practical exams than he ought to.
Eric was a mess and he was one self-centered prick. But he was smart and kind. And he was fun to be with. Kayla loved being around him and he seemed to love to be around her, too. And over the past three years, their friendship had changed him. It had changed her.