remember when I knew

CHEN AZALEA

"I THINK we have a problem."

Saying that Amy's sentence was an understatement was an understatement in itself. That issue wasn't a problem. It was a complete, messy, awful, big, catastrophic disaster.

"It's raining," Chen Azalea deadpanned blankly, hoping to bring back down to earth her boss.

"Yeeees," Amy trailed off, not able to hold back a small amused smile as she stared up. Azalea could understand the humour of the situation, she could see why some might find it comical, but maybe in retrospective, not right bloody now.

"Inside the building," Azalea felt the need to add. "There are holes in the ceiling."

Amy –who'd turned her head to glance as the other spoke– looked up again, and a drop fell on her nose, making it wrinkle in a grimace. She frowned. "Indeed we have."

"You don't even seem surprised by that," Azalea couldn't help but notice.

Amy smiled sheepishly, her hand scratching the back of her neck. "Well... The thing is, that happened last time it rained too."

"And..." The beginning of a headache, that's what the water for giving Azalea. She pinched her nose, trying to remain calm and rational. "You didn't think that maybe take care of it was a good idea?"

She laughed awkwardly, tucking in the hem of her blue flannel shirt in her jeans. "I thought about it, yes."

Azalea waited for her co-worker to add something –but she didn't, so they stood there, in silence, staring at each other as small drops kept falling from the ceiling. Even the sound, almost inexistent first, was getting louder and louder, the drops starting to itch her. Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop.

So there, the situation was anything, but funny.

"And?" The girl said, hoping Amy would understand the meaning behind that word. Meaning, what the fuck happened that made you think it was a good idea to transform this place into a darned swimming pool every darn time it rains?!

"And I forgot," she continued shamelessly, shrugging nonchalantly, like she would was she explaining why she hadn't bought a candle, or hadn't put her plates in the dishwasher.

"You forgot there were holes in the ceiling."

"Yep."

Azalea just stared at the bucket of water in front of her. They were alone in the school, the sky already darkening outside. The children had gone about an hour ago –a few minutes before it started raining– and only the two of them staying late to clean and tidy some more.

She couldn't just leave Amy to that, not if she wanted there to be a school in a few months. Yes, she would fix it. She knew who to call, and how to take care of it: living on her own most of the year gave some advantages and experiences. "Then I'll take care of it."

Amy's face brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

She shrugged. "It would probably be safer that way. We're lucky the kids weren't in here when it started raining."

Amy beamed, her face relaxing. "Thank you so much! I'll leave now, if that's O.K.? I have a meeting with some teachers at a public school."

"Yeah, yeah. See you."

With another 'thank you!', Amy left and Azalea sighed as she felt some rain land on her hair. She walked in a playroom, seeking refuge under some bright pink plastic-house, her legs still sticking out of it.

A few minutes later, she had arranged for someone to come and check on it the next day, and was emailing the parents to tell them to get a swimming suit for their kids tomorrow. Well, she didn't tell them that, even though she wanted to. And she did feel like she was walking in a pool.