Samuel frowned.
“But I wouldn’t worry too much,” Fletcher told him. “I’ve known your grandma a long time.” Fletcher had played football with Samuel’s youngest uncle and his grandma had been the loudest in the stands. She was all about her family and a doting grandmother. “I don’t think she’ll actually disown you.”
Samuel shook his head. “No, my Grandma Mimi wouldn’t do that.”
“Then why did she say it?” Cameron, another boy in class, asked.
Fletcher looked at Samuel. “Did she say it right to you?”
“No. She was telling my Aunt Courtney that if anyone in our family did that she’d disown them.”
Fletcher nodded. He’d figured it was something like that.
Samuel tipped his head. “Aunt Courtney said your wife was on TV.”
Fletcher nodded again, slowly. “That’s true.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yep.” But he swiveled his chair to address Cameron’s question. “Sometimes people exaggerate,” Fletcher said. “Do you know what that means?”
“It means to say things are bigger or better or badder—”
“Worse,” Fletcher corrected.
Cameron nodded. “Worse than they really are.”
“Right,” Fletcher said. “People exaggerate to make things more interesting or shocking or scary so that other people pay more attention to what they’re saying.”
“Is exaggerating like lying?” a little girl named Katie asked.
“It’s the truth but made bigger, to make a point,” Fletcher said. “So it would be like if I gave you a piece of pizza that was hot and I didn’t want you to burn your tongue. I might tell you it was really, really hot so you’d be extra careful. The ‘really, really’ part is the exaggeration.”
This was one of the things he loved most about teaching this grade level. The kids were sharp and ready to learn and picked up on everything.
It was also, often, like walking through a mine field.
“Do people here exaggerate a lot?” Katie asked.
“Here in Autre?” Fletcher asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well… why do you ask?”
“Because my mom says everyone here is at least a little full of bullshit. Is that the same thing?”
“She said bullshit!” Samuel exclaimed, acting horrified, but clearly delighted.
“She was quoting someone,” Fletcher told him. “That’s not the same thing as saying it herself.” He looked at Katie. “Because I know her grandma would not approve of that.”
Still, Katie gave Samuel a smug look.
“And yes, that’s kind of the same thing,” Fletcher acknowledged. “As long as the bullshit”—He held up a hand as Samuel and at least three others gasped—“and don’t go tellin’ your parents I was cussing in class. We’re discussing and I needed to use the word to explain it.” He gave them pointed looks. Though he was sure at recess the kids would pass the news that Mr. Landry had cussed out loud in class. It would be quite the scandal. “But as long as the…B.S.—that’s short for bullshit and most people don’t consider it cussing,” he told them. There, they’d learned at least one thing today. “As long as the B.S. is at least partially true, I suppose it’s like exaggerating. And yes,” he added, “there’s a lot of that goin’ on around here.”
The kids all giggled.
He turned to Cameron again. “I think Samuel’s grandma’s just exaggerating a bit to express that she thinks getting married in Las Vegas…is not the thing to do.”
“Is getting married in Las Vegas bad?” Katie asked.
Fletcher shook his head. “Of course not.”
“Then why did my mom say she can’t believe you did that?”
Fletcher blew out a breath. Katie’s mother, Tiffany, said that about a lot of the things he did. Like breaking up with her sister their junior year of high school. And then dating her again the summer after their freshman year of college. And breaking up with her again.
“Getting married in Las Vegas is more unusual for people from around here than getting married here in town is all,” Fletcher said.
“My dad said at least you didn’t marry a stripper,” Zachary piped up from his desk three rows back.
Yeah, well, his father, Matthew, knew a thing or two about strippers. He’d been known to head over to Bad and the strip club-slash-barbecue joint, the Pork and Peach, even before he’d turned twenty-one. But, of course, Fletcher couldn’t say that.
It was definitely interesting teaching the kids of people he’d grown up with. Most of these kids’ parents were a few years older than Fletcher, but Autre was not a big town, and everyone knew everyone regardless of what year you graduated.
“What’s a stripper?” Olivia Theroit asked.
“Girls who take off their clothes,” Zachary told her.
Fletcher stood up, cutting the conversation off before they could get any further into the topic of strippers. And before he cussed again.
“Okay, so it seems you’re interested in me getting married.” He moved to the front of his desk and propped a hip on the edge. He pointed to Samuel’s seat and the little boy headed in that direction. “Let’s talk about it for a little bit. Instead of rumors, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
He paused. He should’ve known that his students would be interested in this news. He supposed the fact that he had still been processing it over the last not-even-twenty-four hours was partly why he hadn’t given this much thought. But yes, eight-year-olds had very big ears when it came to adult conversations happening around them and Fletcher should have thought about the fact that their parents and grandparents would have been talking.
He looked around the room. “Who knows what a rumor is?”
A few hands went up and he called on Aubrey Harrison.
“It’s when people tell a story about someone else that might not be true,” the little girl said.
“So it’s like bullshit,” Katie said.
Kids gasped and giggled.
Fletcher sighed.
But she wasn’t entirely wrong.
“And exaggerating,” Cameron added.
Again, Fletcher held up a hand. “Those are all pretty close to one another, yes. But a rumor can be a story that is not exaggerated, so it’s not made bigger just to make it more interesting or shocking, but it’s just not true.”
“So it’s a lie,” Samuel concluded.
“Kind of,” Fletcher agreed. “But usually the people talkin’ about it aren’t lying on purpose. They’re just tellin’ a story.” He looked around the room. “And the best way to not have a story be a rumor is to ask the person about what really happened.”
He had everyone’s attention, and he met the eyes of Sophia Abar. And she didn’t look away. Surprise kicked him in the chest. Sophia rarely made eye contact with anyone and even though he knew she was paying attention in class in general because of the assignments she turned in, she was most often staring at the top of her desk when he looked out over the room.