She flips through pages of doodles and half-finished cartoons until she gets to floral designs, snakes, and shaded skulls all in bold lines. She hasn’t quite settled on an individual style yet, but the lines are steady, and the colors work well together.
“These are very good,” I tell her, honestly.
“You think so?”
“I do. And if you’d like, you can come in early, or stay after school, and we can work on your technique and practice some more designs.”
Her face lights up, “That would be amazing! Thank you, Ms. Patel. Seriously.”
“It’s no problem. I’m happy you asked.”
“You’re the coolest teacher I’ve ever had. Like, by far.”
“Well, don’t tell the others that,” I pause before adding, “But I’m glad you think so.”
The bell rings, echoing sharp and bright through the halls, and Addie sits down at her desk. While I’m waiting for the rest of the students to arrive, I think back to my own experience in this room, when Ms. Price helped me grow into the artist I am today.
I wouldn’t be here without her, and now, I have the opportunity to help Addie the way Ms. Price helped me.
By the time I make my way to the teachers’ lounge for a snack, my good mood hasn’t dampened. For the first time in my life, things are going well. My job, my friends, Nate.
A nagging voice in my head disagrees, tells me that things won’t stay this good for long, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s foolish to get my hopes up about Nate, but how can I not?
Our date was so wonderful, and that kiss…
Layla’s here, nursing a cup of coffee, munching on a muffin. When she sees me, she sits up straight. “There she is,” she drawls, setting her mug down. “Iris Patel, local lover girl.”
“Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m starting.” she follows me to the counter where I’m pulling the box of tea out of the cabinet. “You better spill, babe. I need every detail.”
“It was a date. What is there to tell?” I say, fussing with my tea bag to keep my hands busy.
“Did you kiss?”
I nod, chewing on my lip.
“Ahh! How was it?!” she exclaims, her volume earning her a look from another teacher, and I shoot her a glare of my own.
I don’t want anyone else to find out about this.
“Okay, okay, sorry. But I’m happy for you,” she says, lowering her voice. “You look lighter today, less miss grumpy pants. More in love.”
I duck my head, staring down at my cup. “It felt… normal, Layla. I felt normal. I’ve never felt that way before.”
“You deserve normal, Iris. Better than normal.”
“I keep waiting for it to fall apart,” I tell her, letting myself voice the concerns that have been swimming around my head since our date. “Like maybe I’m borrowing someone else’s life for a minute, and he’ll realize he’s making a mistake—”
“Trust me, girl, from what I’ve seen of Nate, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger. He’s probably already building y’all a house, or whatever southern men do to impress their women.”
That makes me laugh, because I wouldn’t put it past him.
“Now listen, if you’re happy, I’m happy. And also very invested,” she adds. “So don’t leave out the details next time. If I have to find out you’re getting married from a student, I’m gonna be pissed. As your best friend, you have to tell me these things.”
“I’ll tell you,” I promise, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t want to have to tell you if it went—” I frown. “Wait. How did you find out?”
“Oh, sweetie. The whole school knows. You and Coach Wesley being an item is the talk of the halls right now.”
