TEACHER, aubrey gates

aubrey gates

Aubrey and her family live a genuinely happy life for a decade, before her father leaves for work earlier, and her mother comes home later. They are going through a financial strain, not that little Aubrey — who, by the way, has just lost her first tooth — knows. Food may be a little sparse, but they never run out of laughter or smiles. When Oliver is born, all the more.

→ TEN
Her mother leaves behind a grown man and a two-year-old boy — both crying over the sound of a slamming door and a revving car engine. Maybe it would have been better if the woman had died, instead of just ran away. Instead of just leaving unanswered questions.

She hushes her baby brother and holds her father's hand, gently reminding him that the leftover pizza in the oven is burning.

→ TWELVE
Aubrey experiences her first period during the custody battle.

While young, she isn't stupid. Aubrey knows what the red means and, though, her first instinct is to lock herself in the nearest restroom, she forces herself to approach her father with slow, reluctant steps. He shoots his lawyer an apologetic look, excusing himself as he dashes out. With nowhere else to go, Aubrey waits with her brother by his lego blocks.

Her father returns in record time, pulling her into the restroom. She tears into the package he brought as she listens to her father struggle to explain what it means to become a woman, before giving up completely. After much convincing that no, she does not need any help and yes, the instructions are clearly legible, her father retreats away from the law office restroom, but he never strays too far.

The laughter of a young girl echoes within the restroom, at the imagery of an adult man exiting the women's restroom.

-

The trial is neat, straightforward, and not nearly as dramatic as she thought it would be. Their mother is deemed unfit for parenting and custody is left to their father.

Part of her will miss the sloppy forehead kisses and the soft hair brushing, but, more strongly, Aubrey thinks serves you right. Cowardice paves no road to victory. Running away doesn't make the debt disappear. Or the children.

→ SIXTEEN
High school is a drag and Aubrey has contemplated dropping herself from the roof of her school a total of seven times. As a joke. Mostly.

She joins a few clubs with a focus on leadership and respect, and nothing on how to set the curve in AP Chem. Her transcript is already looking rather pretty — impressive grades and a good amount of extraccuriculars — all she needs to do now is win the election for next year's student body president, and her high school career will have been perfect.

Boys interest her, but she never approaches anyone. As far as Aubrey is concerned, the only good relationship she needs is with her academic adviser.

The family is doing well enough, but Oliver's been a brat lately. He keeps sneaking worms into her good shoes and begging for a pet, ignoring her advice on making a detailed a powerpoint explaining why they both deserved a German Shepherd. Aubrey makes a note to do that later, after prepping for next week's SAT.

→ SEVENTEEN
She lost the election to some pretty face with a beatific smile and longer eyelashes, got into her second choice school (but not her first), and didn't get a German Shepherd. Instead, they get a cat, a British Shorthair, that barely moves from her spot by the edge of Aubrey's bed.

At least Oliver's stopped putting worms into her shoes.

→ NINETEEN
As a university student, Aubrey goes on her first date, has her first boyfriend, and gets her first kiss.

He's a great guy who plays golf with his dad and goes to church every Sunday. Their relationship is stable and secure, if a little boring, a little vanilla. She sends him good morning texts and meets him after Educational Psychology every Tuesday. They introduce each other to their families and, though, life may not be perfect, it feels right.

He breaks up with her the day before hell week, finals week.

They are sitting at a table somewhere, Aubrey doesn't remember where. His gaze refuses to meet her own as he lists reasons why he can't be with her, doesn't want to be with her. She nods along, her gaze directed forwards, unwavering and unquestioning.

She scores well on her finals and begins to text him, but stops herself mid-sentence.

→ TWENTY-ONE
Aubrey is student teaching at a local high school when she gets the call: Hello, is this Aubrey... sorry... sudden, I know... your father... during construction... collapsed...

She picks up Oliver from middle school and head to the emergency room. The old man is fine and chatting up the nurses when they get there. Her brother whines over missing the kickball tournament, and Aubrey ignores him in favor of reprimanding her father for working too hard, for being too careless. All he does is smile, laugh, and wave her worries off.

There is a part a part of her that wants to insist that he retire, that his good health is not longlasting. But she knows that her paycheck alone won't keep the electricity on or the water running. It is at that moment Aubrey regrets becoming a teacher.

→ TWENTY-SIX
When she isn't doting on Fatcheeks, their cat who is still unexpectedly alive and kicking, Aubrey is teaching at Regency Academy. She holds her students up to only half to the expectations she had for herself as a high school student. Renown for her lack of understanding, she keeps her relationships with the students and colleagues professional — akin to a business exchange.

Having already spent three years of her life hammering derivative rules and mathematic concepts into the heads of rebellious children, the days to retirement cannot come any sooner.


- Aubrey doesn't believe in extra credit.
- Aubrey refuses to use the school's restrooms. Or any public restroom, for that matter.
- Aubrey walks her cat, Fatcheeks, every Saturday afternoon.
- Her little brother, Oliver, is a senior attending Regency Academy.
- Aubrey tends to gnaw on the ends of her pens and pencils, a nervous habit she has never been able to kick. She doesn't let students borrow her writing utensils for this reason.