Not because they’re curious.
Because the high school borrows our elementary gym every April, and the decorations always find their way into the cafeteria before the students do.
Every spring, someone asks me if I ever went to prom.
Silver streamers.
Boxes of fairy lights.
Balloons that refuse to stay where they’re taped.
I spend my mornings serving macaroni and cheese while teenagers carry cardboard stars through the hallway, arguing over table centerpieces.
Last Thursday, one of the younger teachers leaned against the serving counter while I scooped mashed potatoes.
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