Page 16 of Check You Out

He says with a weak smile, “Well thank you.”

I grab my drink and scone. “Come on, let’s go upstairs.”

The floorboards creak as we make our way toward the second-floor sitting area. I find a table near the back wall that’s big enough for two laptops and set my stuff down.

I pull out my laptop and open it. He sits down at the other chair and pulls out his own computer. “I figure we’ll have one petition using Change.org. It’ll be easy and we can just send the link or use a QR code.” I look back at him. “What do you think?”

“Sounds fine.”

“I’ll dictate if you type?” I ask.

He nods. A lock of hair falls over his forehead.

I take a sip of my latte. The comforting taste of vanilla and bergamot dance in my mouth, and the warmth seeps into my bones. I close my eyes and breathe the delicious scent of the latte deeply.

“Damn, that’s good,” I muse. “I love a London Fog.”

Aidan nods and picks up his own to take a pull. “Wow, that is good, and I’m a coffee addict.”

I swish my mouth over my tea. “Can I ask you a coffee question?”

“Uh, sure.”

Grinning, I ask, “Do you think that a vanilla latte with soy milk is a three bean soup?”

An eyebrow raises and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You’ve talked with Xander, haven’t you?”

I chuckle, some tension easing between us. “What’s the difference between a soup and a hot beverage? Sometimes, they’re made of the same things.” I shrug. “Milk is a common ingredient in soups and hot beverages. Hot cocoa could just be chocolate soup.”

He chuckles. “You drink hot cocoa, but you eat soup.”

I palm my hand on the table. “Yeah, but what’s the difference?”

His computer dings, and his face falls. He looks down and furrows his brow. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

“Am I annoying you that much?” I take a bite from my scone.

Aidan flashes a concerned glance. “No, no, not at all. I find this rather riveting, even if I’ve had this discussion with Xander before. Your arguments are better formed.” He sighs. “I had an incident with a student yesterday, and I asked his mother for a phone call. She’s insisting I call now instead of the times I suggested.” He picks up his phone and studies me for a second. “Do you mind? It should only take a minute.”

“Sure.”

He nods.

“Are you going to call them?” I ask.

He chews on his lower lip and breathes deeply a few times. “I don’t like parent calls.” Muttering a few curses under his breath, he taps his phone and then puts it to his ear.

I shift my shoulders and go back to my laptop, where I’ve pulled up my list of to-do items.

My head snaps to attention when Aidan starts talking with confidence. It’s completely different from his soft, rolling voice from before. “Good morning, Ms. Hartlett, this is Mr. Talbot, Jackson’s English teacher.”

I shudder and mouth, “I’m sorry.” I can guess which Ms. Hartlett he’s talking to.

He flashes a quizzical look. “Thank you for replying to my email and being receptive to a phone call. As you know, there was an incident yesterday in fifth period. Did you read the incident report provided?”

He listens to the muffled voice.

“Good, I’m glad you did. I do not tolerate those kinds of behaviors from my students, and I would appreciate your assistance in making sure that Jackson corrects his behavior.” There’s more garbled speaking from the parent. His brows knit even more than before, and his lips press into a thin line.