Free Chemistry Lessons by Rebecca H Jamison Page A

through
my lesson plans. You can keep a copy if you want.”
    While Destry paged through her files, she sat down to figure out the
new curriculum for health. Her mind kept going back to the last time she’d
taught health class six years earlier. Janessa Moore had been in that class.
Weighing barely 100 pounds, Janessa was the brown-haired cheerleader who always
got thrown in the air during football games. Like most sophomore girls, she had
a way of hiding her phone under the edge of her desk. She had probably been
texting while Rosie explained that even one drink could put a petite woman over
the legal limit for driving.
    It had been thirteen months since the accident—thirteen months since
her grandmother had died. In some ways, it seemed like it’d only been
yesterday. In some ways, it seemed like twenty years ago. Everything was
different now, and it was all because of one bad decision—Janessa’s bad
decision.
    Rosie still froze like a frightened squirrel every time she saw a white
pickup truck, the type of vehicle Janessa drove that night. Seeing Janessa
herself was no better. When she waited on them at La Cocina, Rosie couldn’t
bring herself to look at the girl—or speak to her. It was better that way.
Rosie’s anger smoldered like burning embers, ready to break out into a forest
fire at any moment.
    And she had every right to be angry. Janessa had suffered no more consequence
than a fifty-dollar ticket, and everyone knew she’d gone straight back to her
old ways. So many of them did. Rosie often wondered if Janessa even remembered
the events of that night.
    She couldn’t let Alan make the same mistake as Janessa. She had to say
something to Destry. “If you hire Alan, can you make sure he knows not to come
to work drunk?” There. She’d said it.
    Destry furrowed his brows. “I’ll tell him.”
    She scrolled blindly through the curriculum website. “I just wouldn’t
want anything to happen while he drove to your place.”
    He stared at her. “You’re really worried about this.”
    She made an effort to sound calm. “Drunk driving is a big problem
around here. Most people don’t take it seriously enough.”
    He reached his hand out, almost touching hers where it lay on the desk.
“I’ll take it seriously.” His deep, even tone made him sound like he meant it. “I
promise.”
    She hoped he would. “Thanks.”
    Turning back to her work, she tried again to focus on the health
curriculum. She would have to add a lesson plan for suicide prevention and
revamp her plans for healthy eating and exercise. Likely, these students had
heard all the information many times before. She’d have to make it different
somehow.
    Destry interrupted her thoughts. “Where do I get my textbooks?”
    “They’re down in the supply room. There’s a form to check them out. I’ll
show you how to do it.” She hopped up from her desk, happy to have something
else to occupy her mind.
    The supply room was on the other side of the school at the end of the
library. No other teachers were there, which was a good thing. Textbooks
occupied almost every square inch of space inside. Not only did they line six
rows of bookshelves, boxes of them crowded the floor. “I’d hate to be here in
an earthquake,” Rosie remarked.
    “I don’t know,” Destry said, pointing to the science books on the shelf
and taking on a flirtatious tone. “If we got trapped, we could learn a little
more about chemistry.”
    She laughed, refusing to engage in his banter. “Chemistry’s never been
my strongest subject.”
    He reached for a biology book. “I should have guessed—you’re more of a
biologist.”
    “I like physics too.” She reached toward an old media cart stacked high
with Ms. Klein’s biology books from last year. “Can you help me move the books
out from in front of this cart?”
    Despite his limp, he moved the piles of history textbooks with ease.
Together, they filled out the forms. Afterward, she pushed the cart back to