Chapter 631 Farewell (2)
The feast began.
The children ate and laughed and talked. They told stories about the past semester, about the time Drake had fallen asleep during math and snored so loudly that the whole class heard. About the time Boo had pretended to be stuck in the ceiling and had been exposed by Professor Hobb. About the time Luna had bitten a classmate from Class B, who had deserved it, she insisted.
They talked about plantation day, about the plants they had grown. Kelpie’s plant had grown the tallest because he watered it too much. Rocky’s plant had the most stones around it. Luna’s plant stood the straightest. Sable and Lucien’s plants had grown together, their roots tangled. Vlad Jr. had taken care of his plant so well it was the healthiest. Drake’s plant had been saved by Kelpie because Drake always forgot to water it, and Kelpie was so happy to water it on behalf of him or anyone who forgot. And Felix’s plant was simply better than everyone else’s, or so he claimed.
They talked about sports day, about the races and the games. About how Drake had almost won. About how Luna had fallen. About how Felix had come in third and pretended not to care.
They talked about the worm attack, briefly, quietly, with somber voices that quickly brightened again.
They talked about Sir Santo and how he visited Boo almost every day now.
They talked about the future, about the upper class, about the new teacher, about how they would still see Alina at lunch.
And through it all, Alina watched them.
She watched Luna argue with Felix about who had run faster, their voices rising and falling like waves. She watched Kelpie splash water on Rocky’s cookies and Rocky forgive him instantly. She watched Sable steal food from Lucien’s plate and Lucien pretend not to notice. She watched Vlad Jr. organize the empty plates into a neat stack, then reorganize them when someone added more.
She watched Drake try to eat an entire cookie in one bite and nearly choke, and everyone laughed.
She watched Boo float from group to group, telling stories, making jokes, being his bright, impossible, wonderful self.
Her heart ached, but it was full too.
After the feast, after the cake had been eaten and the presents had been given, Alina stood up.
She looked at them, at her students, her babies, her class.
"I have something to say," she said.
The room went quiet.
She took a deep breath.
"When I first came to this kindergarten, I was scared. I didn’t know if I belonged here. I didn’t know if I could teach children who were so different from me."
Her voice trembled.
"But you welcomed me. You accepted me. You taught me more than I ever taught you."
She looked at Luna.
"You taught me about courage."
At Kelpie.
"About joy."
At Rocky.
"About kindness."
At Felix.
"About intelligence."
At Sable and Lucien.
"About love."
At Vlad Jr.
"About responsibility."
At Drake.
"About resilience. About getting back up when you fall. About trying again, even when it’s hard."
At Boo.
"About everything. About being yourself, even when the world tells you to hide."
Her tears spilled over.
"I’m going to miss you. So much. More than you know."
Luna’s eyes were red. Kelpie’s water droplets were falling faster. Rocky was crying openly, his stone face wet. Felix’s jaw was tight, his eyes blinking rapidly. Sable was sobbing into Lucien’s shoulder. Lucien held him, his own eyes bright with tears.
Drake’s wings drooped. His tail wrapped around his leg. His face crumpled.
"I don’t want to go," he whispered.
Alina’s heart broke.
"You’re not going anywhere," she said. "You’re just moving to a different classroom."
"It won’t be the same."
"No," she agreed. "It won’t."
Sable ran to her and hugged her legs. "I don’t want a new teacher."
"I know."
"I want you."
"I know."
Lucien walked over and stood beside his brother. "We’ll visit. Every day."
"Every day is too much," Alina said, smiling through her tears. "You have to learn from your new teacher."
"We’ll learn from them and visit you," Vlad Jr. said. "I’ll schedule it."
Alina laughed, a wet, teary laugh.
"Okay," she said. "I’d like that."
Rocky walked over and pressed his box of rocks into her hands.
"For when you miss us," he said.
Alina held the box against her chest.
"I’ll miss you every day."
Felix stepped forward. His face was red, his eyes wet.
"You were the best teacher," he said.
Alina pulled him into a hug.
"You were the best student."
He didn’t pull away.
Kelpie hugged her next, soaking her dress. "I’ll send you water droplets every day."
"That’s very thoughtful."
"I’ll send you shadows," Sable said.
"I’ll send you perfect attendance," Vlad Jr. said.
Drake walked over to her. He was crying now, tears streaming down his little chubby face.
"I’ll send you drawings," he said. "Of dragons and snacks."
Alina pulled him into her arms. "I’ll hang them all on my wall."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Boo floated in front of her.
"I’ll send you me," he said. "Every day. I’ll come find you. I’ll tell you about my day. I’ll tell you about our new teacher. I’ll tell you everything."
Alina pulled him into her arms.
"That’s all I want," she whispered.
And he whispered, "I will tell you gossip too, hehe."
Alina smiled.
The children gathered around Alina one last time.
"One, two, three," Luna said.
"WE LOVE YOU, TEACHER!" they shouted.
Alina sobbed.
"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything."
They hugged her, all of them at once, a tangle of arms and tears and love.
And the whole kindergarten heard the saddest, loudest crying from Class D.
After farewell, one by one, they walked out the door.
Drake was the last.
He stood in the doorway, his wings drooping, his tail dragging, his face wet with tears.
"Teacher," he said.
"Yes?"
"I’m glad you were my teacher."
Alina’s tears spilled over.
"I’m glad you were my student."
Drake nodded and walked away.
The room was empty.
Alina stood in the center, surrounded by streamers and balloons and half-eaten cookies. The box of rocks was heavy in her hands. The cake sat on the table, half untouched.
She looked at the desks, the small chairs, the colorful drawings on the wall, the books on the shelves.
She remembered the first day, and she cried.
She cried for the moments she would miss. For the laughter she wouldn’t hear. For the arguments she wouldn’t witness. For the growth she wouldn’t see.
She cried for the children who had become her heart.
Dante walked in and wrapped his arms around her.
"It’s okay," he said.
"It doesn’t feel okay."
"It will. Eventually."
She leaned against him.
"I loved them," she said.
"I know."
"So much."
"I know."
She cried until she had no tears left.
And then, slowly, the ache in her chest began to soften. Not because the goodbye didn’t hurt. But because she knew the love would stay.
She looked at the empty classroom one last time.
And she smiled.