Class ended for the day at Francois Dupont about two hours, signified by the lack of students.
For Art Teacher Nathaniel Kurtzberg, this was one of his favorite times of day. He got to leave, head home, and be with Marc, work on their little side project together.
He was ready to close up the classroom when he noticed Nico outside, sitting on the bench with a depressed look on his face.
"You okay, Nico?" He asked, getting the boy's attention.
"Mr. Kurtzberg," Nico replied, composing himself as he stood up. "I didn't see you there-" A raised hand interrupted him, as if to say he was in the clear. "No..." Nico admitted. "I'm not."
There it was. Nathaniel sat next to him, "You mind telling me what's wrong? That always helps." And it was true, it did help Nico. All the time.
Nico sighed. "I was just thinking about my family," he explained. “ I see everyone else going home with their parents, having moms and dads, and I end up thinking ‘Why not me?’”
He leaned back and looked at the sky, “I mean, I know about my mother, she’s a deadbeat. But, what about my father?” Nico inquired. “Where is he? Who is he?”
Nathaniel let out a deep sigh, “I’m sure whoever or where he is, he’d probably be proud to have a son like you, Nico.”
This got Nico’s attention. “Why do you say that, Mr. Kurtzberg? How do you know he’d think like that? For all you know, he’s just like Lila, or worse- what if he’s like Felix or Ray?”
A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders as Nathaniel looked him in the eye. “Because I knew him personally, and I see a lot of him in you,” he replied in a soft but serious tone, “You are bold, friendly, and optimistic about everything. You have been fighting your whole life to prove that you’re nothing like your mother. That alone would make anyone proud.”
“Thanks, I guess…” Nico replied, getting up from the bench and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I better get going. Beakle will probably make a mess again if I’m out for too long.”
A chuckle came from both of them.
“Nico,” Nathaniel went as the former began to walk away. “I just want you to know that, if I ever had a kid and they turned out just like you,” He was silent, as if he was trying to find the right words.
“Thank you, Mr. Kurtzberg.” Nico said, understanding what he had meant. He turned and left the school, his smile turning into a small frown as one thought formed in his head: I wish you were my father….
