Out in the Country by Kate Hewitt

in the poem, sagging with a heavy load. She’d never been this tired before, mind and body. She smiled at Tonya. “Sometimes it feels like there’s nowhere for all those feelings to go.”
    Tonya nodded eagerly. “That’s why I like that poem--I feel like he gets it, you know?”
    Molly nodded. “I know. That’s the wonderful thing about poetry.”
    “Does that guy have any other poems like that?”
    Molly flipped through the little book. “Why don’t you borrow this and find out for yourself? You might like another of his poems about dreams--and not letting them go.” She held the book out, and after a moment Tonya took it shyly.
    “Thanks, Miss Marshall.”
    “You’re welcome, Tonya.” Molly smiled, feeling for a moment as if that heavy load had been lifted, or at least lightened. “Let me know if you’d ever like to borrow any other books, or even just talk about the poems. I love Langston Hughes.”
    “Okay.” Tonya nodded, smiling shyly. “I’ll do that.”
    Molly watched her go, the book clutched to her chest. She was still gazing into space, going over the conversation, when Luke appeared in the doorway.
    “Still here, newbie? Surely there’s a more comfortable place to grade papers.”
    “Only if I want to lug them all home.” Molly couldn’t quite keep from smiling; she was glad to see Luke, and that realisation was tinged with a little guilt. Surely she shouldn’t be quite so glad if he was just a friend?
    Luke sauntered over and glanced at her pile of papers, many of them covered in red pen. “My, you are thorough. You could just write ‘Nice try’ on the top and be done with it.”
    Molly arched one eyebrow. “And is that what you do?” Despite Luke’s indifferent attitude, she’d begun to suspect that he cared about his students more than anyone could ever know.
    Luke grinned. “Only sometimes.” He rifled through the pile before putting it into a neat stack. “It looks like you’re over halfway through. Give yourself a break and let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
    “All right,” Molly agreed, the prospect brightening an already improving afternoon. She slid the papers into her bag and grabbed her coat from her chair.
    “No boyfriend visiting this weekend?” Luke asked casually as they left Cooper High and headed down the street, dry leaves swirling along the pavement.
    Molly tensed, but she kept her voice light. “I’m not sure, actually. We haven’t spoken in a few days. He’s planning on coming sometime soon, though.”
    Luke slid her a thoughtful glance. “Problems?”
    “None of your business,” Molly shot back, but she smiled to take the sting from her words. They bounced off Luke anyway, as she knew they would; he just grinned lazily.
    “No, it isn’t, but I imagine you’re having quite different experiences.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s in--where? Vermont?”
    “New Hampshire, actually,” Molly replied, ignoring the little sting of uneasy guilt just the mention of Vermont caused within her. Her mother wanted her to visit, too.
    “Wherever.” Luke waved a hand in dismissal. “He’s probably got a research grant and is spending his days poring over dusty old books in the back room of a college library before he heads out to the local for a drink with his pals, and he as no idea of what you’re having to deal with on a daily basis.”
    Molly shifted her bag to her other shoulder, not wanting to acknowledge how Luke’s summary so matched her own often resentful thoughts. “Maybe so, but we’re both living our dreams.” Not deferring them, like in the poem. Yet what happened when dreams didn’t turn out the way you expected them to, Molly wondered a little bleakly. Did they sag or explode then? Or just quietly fade away, leaving you with nothing?
    “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Luke replied. He slung a friendly arm around her shoulders, and Molly was conscious of its heavy, comforting weight. “You had a good day today,