-J. D. Salinger, Seymour
Name: Columba Maynard
Background: As a young student going to New York for the first time, Columba was a little swept up. Struggling to find a way to pay for school, she got a job waitressing part time at a chinese restaurant in chinatown. After about a year, she managed to get a little apartment in the family's complex. Although no longer "working" for the family, she's still living there, comfortably having become one of them. She's the live in babysitter, but it's getting a bit hard with her first year teaching high school and trying to balance her graduate program in literary arts. Her real dream is to be a writer, and it has been since the moment she opened the pages of a Salinger novel. But she has no money, she has no life, and her students and coworkers don't seem to respect her.
Job: High School English Teacher/babysitter/struggling writer
Likes: Chinese food, Salinger novels, reading, the smell of paper, pens, her old typewriter, serenity, yoga, red, flowers, tea, quotes, scarves, teacups, kittens, helping students, the history teacher across the hall, late night papers, literary analysis
Model: Kirsten Dunst
Relationships; friends with a working family of chinese immigrants (roommates with some) and classmates, hooking up with the principal at her school, crushing on the history teacher across the hall
"Would you please zip this for me?" I ask, my body leant forward as I was still perched on the desk.
He did so quickly, wordlessly sending a shiver up my spine. He took it for a good kind of shiver, but really it was just his hands being cold. His hands were always so cold.
I smiled my thanks, bending down to put on my shoes before hopping off.
He caught me though, again sending shivers through my body, and kept his frozen hands holding on to me briefly. "Why do you always leave so quickly, Columba? Let me take you to dinner tonight."
I shook my head, smirking. "I have papers to grade, Mr. Green." He opened his mouth, but I knew what he had to say. He wanted me to call him by his first name. We were on that basis. "And you have a wife." I said pointedly.
That shut him up, his hands dropping defeatedly. That always shut him up.
His hands were cold, and he had a wife. I could never love this man.
I walked out briskly then, neither of us having a goodbye to say, knowing we'd be tangled up again tomorrow.
I was almost out of the Principal's offices when I heard a voice that truly made me smile.
"Ms. Maynard, what are you doing here?" He caught up with me, smiling enthusiastically. "And what on earth happened to your hair?"
I blush immediately. I had forgotten in my haste to fix my hair. His hands were cold, and he liked to pull my hair. I wanted a body with heat. But all I got was his cold hands, pulling on my hair.
he laughs "Sleeping with the principal?" he says, clearly a joke. I giggle, playing my part, denial denial denial.
"Hat head." I shrugged, getting to the door that lead outside.
He touched my arm, smiling kindly. And for the first time in months, I felt body heat. His hands were warm. "Can you get to your car okay?"
I nod, smiling my thanks, not knowing what words to say. His hands were warm. He was warm. "Thank you though." I manage, shutting the door behind me.
And I'm again blasted with the memory of his cold hands, pulling through my hair.