Rita was terribly tired by the end of that first day. Kurt had already balked at everything she assigned, arguing with her or rocking but not doing, while Pete slouched in his seat and watched. Betty Sue’s presence hadn’t inhibited them, and she in turn seemed to be picking some sort of feud with Eve Hoffman, the dark quiet girl who sat in front of her.

“I’m not sure I”m going to make it this year…” Rita said as she entered her house. She expected to find Joan in the living room but the couch was unoccupied. “Joanie? Where are you?”

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Rita heard water running in the bathroom sink.

“You’re not at it again, are you?” Silence. “Joanie; don’t. If you keep shaving your arms the hair will just grow back thicker.”

Joan Selman and Rita McDaniels had known each other for twenty years, taught in the same school for fifteen, lived together for ten. Rita was a decade older, but at their ages that made no difference. They knew each other well. Joan knew that Rita would never stop advising her, and Rita knew that Joan would rarely heed the advice.

“At this point,” Joan said as she walked into the living room while rubbing lotion into her forearms, “the damage has been done. I’ve been shaving for thirty years; if it really does make thicker stubble I guess I’m already enjoying the effect. Want wine?”

“Sure…” Rita expelled the word with a tired sigh as she sat heavily into the couch. “And how was your day?” Joan taught fifth grade, a gentler year than sixth. She previewed many of Rita’s students for her each term.

Joan carried two glasses of red wine to the couch. “Not bad, actually. I may just have a good class this time. So far all sweethearts. Not like last year.” She sipped her wine, set her glass on the big coffee table, and relaxed against the high back of their antique sofa. Rita noticed tiny red bumps of inflammation on Joan’s pale arms.

“Apparently it’s my turn this year. I got Kurt ‘n Pete.”

“No!” Joan sat up strongly. “We have three sixth grade classes. Those two have got to be separated. I complained over and over to Skiles last year…”

“Well the Miller and Lefkowicz families must have complained louder.” Rita’s eyes met Joan’s in agreement about their opinion of Vice Principal Lorna Skiles. “I talked to her at lunch. The two families believe their underachievers will do best together.”

“I’m sorry, Rita.”

“It’s okay. I’ll get through it. I always have, haven’t I?” She smiled for a moment. “Anyway, I’ve also got Betty Sue Stuben, and I put her between the boys. That should make for something.”

It did. As the days shortened through September and October, Kurt rocked and mocked, Pete slouched and smirked, and Betty Sue got irked and harder. Eve began to speak up in class, which surprised Rita. She knew the girl was bright; the school had just skipped her from fourth grade to sixth, and Rita couldn’t remember that happening before. That skip also meant Joan had no advance knowledge about Eve, who appeared shy at first, so Rita was amazed to watch the child blossom and humiliate herself. Eve appeared to be an unbridled egotist, smart and talking smarter, blowing hard about being one of the “chosen people” in a school with few Jews, irritating everyone but mostly those nearest her seat. Hostilities grew between Eve and Betty Sue, Eve and Kurt ‘n Pete, Betty Sue and Kurt ‘n Pete, the four of them and the rest of the class.

For Halloween Betty Sue climbed onto her roof and managed to egg Kurt ‘n Pete. The boys in turn sniped with Kurt’s BB gun from his bedroom window; Pete aimed and hit Eve in the upper thigh but she was far enough away that it didn’t do more than sting. Just before Chanukah a swastika was painted on Eve’s driveway. That really upset her parents, and the perpetrator was never found, but Eve always knew it wasn’t true anti-Semitism and it was Kurt ‘n Pete.