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Pixie knew she needed to let her sorrow over Doug go, but dammit. Being with him had felt so right.
Julie thought Pixie ought to confront Doug—who had ghosted her—and demand answers as to why he’d cut and run. But Pixie wasn’t that brave. Once upon a time she might have approached him and threatened to kick his ass. But that was a very long time ago, and she’d been a different person then. Awholeperson. Now, she was simply afraid. She didn’t want to hear Doug say that her dead left arm was the reason he’d ended their short relationship; that he was embarrassed to be seen with her in public.
Pixie had so much insecurity around her old injury, she didn’t know if she could take any negativity. Especially from the first man in years whom she’d let scale her heavily fortified walls.
It took far tooshort a time to straighten up after her surprisingly neat class, but after fussing with a display of mean, median, mode projects on which the children had worked hard, Pixie sighed and went to get her purse and coat in the teacher’s lounge, thinking about her other problem. She had one student this year who worried her. Jason Zablov. The little boy never said a word, looked scared all the time, and came and went like a wraith. He didn’t seem to have any friends, but sat by himself in the cafeteria and at recess, his head buried in a book. At least there was that one saving grace. The boy loved to read. But his fear of interaction with anybody had her senses on alert. She’d surreptitiously scanned him for signs of abuse every day, but so far had seen nothing, and she’d even had words with his nasty father. Not that they’d gotten her anywhere. He’d actually threatened her, and she’d backed off. She did, however, continueto scrutinize the man’s actions when he came to pick the boy up every afternoon.
She pushed in through the lounge door, and…
“Oh. Hey, Pixie.”
Pix swallowed an expletive. The last person she wanted to engage with today was Peter, the remedial reading teacher. He wasn’t on the permanent staff of her elementary school, thank God, but had begun working for the district at the beginning of the current academic year. He traveled from school to school, and—she assumed snarkily—annoyed colleagues all over the county. He only came to their facility every Thursday, and lucky her, she’d managed to avoid him last week, but hadn’t won that lottery today.
“Hi, Peter,” Pixie answered evenly, attempting to skirt around him to get to her locker.
“It’s going to be a nice weekend,” he told her. “Did you know the high school soccer team has a rally on Friday for their big game Saturday?”
Pixie wanted to groan. She knew what was coming next. Peter had become relentless over the past few months, asking her out even though she’d told him again and again that she wasn’t interested. There were only so many ways she could turn him down, nicely.
It wasn’t as if he was bad looking or anything. Pixie simply didn’t like the man’s vibe.
“That’s nice,” she returned, managing to squeeze by his deliberately, obtrusively placed body, but not quite able to avoid his brush against her bad arm. “I hope you enjoy it.”
“I’d enjoy it even more if you went with me,” he wheedled.
Pixie sighed. She was going to have to show more backbone if he was to be discouraged.
“I’ve already told you, Peter. I don’t date. I’m a loner, an introvert. But I’m sure you won’t have any problem findingsomeone else to accompany you.”There.She’d reiterated her stance while at the same time giving him a compliment.
“Come on, Pixie.” The man was becoming not only annoying, but weirdly smarmy. “I’ll make you forget all about your insecurities. Remember my job? I teach remedial reading. I’m very good at advocating for those with disabilities.”
And there it was. The reason she’d never go out with Peter. He had some weird fascination with her nonfunctioning limb. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he stared at it, and every chance he got, he managed to touch some part of her useless appendage.
Peter was creepy.
Pixie quickly grabbed her possessions with her working hand, clutching them to her body before managing to slink by Peter again, this time without being touched.
“I’m not sure how much clearer I can be, Peter. But… I. Don’t. Date.”
She turned to say a polite goodbye, but caught the angry narrowing of his eyes.
“You have a problem?” she spat out.
Damn.There it was. The anger that without warning would occasionally bubble up under her surface placidity. It didn’t rear its ugly head very often. She’d long ago learned to suppress the confrontational attitude she’d embraced as a teenager. But this jerk was pulling it out of her right now.
“Yes…no…” Now he looked a little uncertain. He was obviously used to the placid Pixie and hadn’t expected any backbone from her. “I… It’s just that I heard through the grapevine that you’d been out with a cop from Orono a few months ago, so I thought maybe you were on the market.”
Ewww.Who said “on the market”? It made her sound like a slab of meat. And how had the rumor gotten around about herand Doug? It had to be the janitor from school they’d run into at the restaurant where they’d had one of their two dates.
She didn’t owe Peter any explanation, but she had to shut him down. “That cop was the one who rescued me and my students from the school shooter. He was just making sure I was alright.”
Peter grunted, then leered. “Well then, how about you have me help with that? I can let you know if you’re…alright.”
Did he just wink?
Oh, hell no.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” Pixie clipped, moving backward toward the door. “I’m not going out with you or anyone else. Nothing personal. It’s just me.”
