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I couldn't help but smile at the mention of her name. "Things are good, really good. I just... I don't know, Ames. Sometimes I worry that I'm moving too fast, you know?"
She tilted her head, a curious expression on her face. "What do you mean?"
I sighed, trying to find the right words. "It's just, we've only been together for a couple of months, but it feels like so much longer. I catch myself thinking about the future, about what it would be like to have her here all the time, to be a family."
Amy's eyes softened, and she reached out to take my hand. "Jake, that's not a bad thing. It's natural to think about the future when you're in a relationship, especially one that feels right."
I nodded, but I couldn't shake the nagging doubt in the back of my mind. "I know, but what if I'm getting ahead of myself? What if Molly's not ready for that kind of commitment? I don't want to scare her off."
"Have you talked to her about it?" Amy asked gently.
I shook my head, feeling a little sheepish. "Not really. I guess I'm just afraid of what she might say."
Amy squeezed my hand, her voice firm but kind. "Jake, you can't keep these things bottled up inside. You need to be honest with Molly about how you feel, about what you want for the future."
I knew she was right, but the thought of putting myself out there like that made my stomach twist. "But what if she doesn't want the same things I do? What if I'm moving too fast for her?"
"Then you'll figure it out together," Amy said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "But you won't know until you talk to her. And who knows? Maybe she's been feeling the same way, but she's been too afraid to bring it up."
I felt a flicker of hope at her words. "You think so?"
Amy smiled, her eyes crinkling and nodded, hands stroking her belly.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, feeling some of the tension drain from my shoulders, feeling a rush of gratitude for my sister. "Thanks, Ames. I don't know what I'd do without you."
She laughed elbowing me. "You'd be a hopeless mess, that's what. But lucky for you, you've got me to keep you in line. Now help me up. I need to pee."
I laughed and stood, turning to help pull her to her feet. Having her home made me realize just how much I had missed her. Hopefully, with the baby any time, they’d stick around for longer periods.
Sunday rolled into Monday without much fuss. The seventh graders were bent over their finals, pencils scratching away at the questions I hoped they were prepared for. A quick glance at the clock told me there was still plenty of time before the period ended, so I settled back into my seat, keeping a watchful eye on the room.
As the minutes ticked by, a burst of hushed laughter from the hallway caught my attention. It wasn't unusual to hear snippets of conversation or the occasional giggle during testing periods, but something about the secretive nature of the sound piqued my curiosity. I knew I couldn't leave the classroom while my students were still testing, but I made a mental note to investigate once they were finished.
When the bell finally rang and the last of the exams were turned in, I made my way out into the hall, my hands finding their way into my pockets in a casual stance. There, huddled in a loose circle by the lockers, was a group of tweens—some of them my students—whispering and snickering amongst themselves. Their heads were dipped close together, like conspirators plotting their next move.
I approached them with a neutral expression, the picture of a history teacher simply curious about his students' discussions. But inside, I was alert, my senses attuned to the undercurrents of their conversation. It wasn't like them to be so secretive, especially when a teacher was nearby.
"Hey there, guys," I said, my voice friendly but firm. "What's got you all so animated this morning?"
They jumped apart like startled rabbits, their eyes wide and guilty. A few of them stammered out half-formed excuses, but I held up a hand to silence them.
"Easy, easy. I'm not here to bust you. I'm just curious what's so interesting that it's got you all huddled up like a football team planning their next play."
A couple of the kids exchanged nervous glances, but one of them, a lanky boy with a mop of curly hair, stepped forward. "It's nothing, Mr. Kingsbury. We were just talking about some stuff we saw online."
I raised an eyebrow, my interest officially piqued. "Online, huh? Anything I should know about?"
The boy shuffled his feet, suddenly finding the scuffed linoleum fascinating. "Nah, it's just some dumb stuff. You know, kid things."
I nodded slowly, not entirely convinced, but I knew pushing too hard would only make them clam up tighter. "Alright, well, you know my door's always open if you need to talk about anything."
They mumbled their thanks and started to disperse, but not before I caught a few furtive glances and whispered words. Something about "profiles" and "catfishing." It was enough to send a chill down my spine.
As I watched them go, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than just typical teenage gossip. Call it a hunch, but I had a sinking suspicion that whatever they were discussing had something to do with me. If that was the case, I needed to get to the bottom of it, fast.
I headed back to my classroom, my mind racing with possibilities.
During the period before lunch, I found myself in Principal Walker's office. After telling him everything I had suspected, he wrangled a few of the students I had mentioned. They sat across from us. Their faces were a mix of nerves and defiance, but I couldn't focus on that. My mind was still reeling from what I'd overheard, the implications of their whispered words.
