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Saylor reveals, “I’m a sausage girl.”
“Yeah, she is,” I concur with a wink, but Say just rolls her eyes.
They continue their easy game of this or that before placing their orders of waffles with whipped cream and strawberries. Grady sticks with bacon, and Saylor asks for sausage on the side while I soak in the easiness of the morning like a dry sponge.
It was never this way with Grady’s mom. Hell, none of us could stand to be in the same room with each other. Even Grady got annoyed whenever his mom would come around. I think he could see through her bullshit just as easily as I could. But this? This is something else. It’s natural. Refreshing. And so damn perfect that I’d give anything to pause this moment and live in it forever.
There aren't any what if’s. No regrets. No doubts. Just us. Smiling and playing games like it’s just another Sunday brunch.
“I’m going to go use the restroom,” I tell them, hooking my thumb toward the back of the building. “Grady, do you need to go?”
With his mouth full of waffle, he shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Okay. Uh,” I turn to Say. “You okay watching him for a minute?”
Her hand is warm as she sets it on top of mine, then squeezes. “You don’t even need to ask. I got this.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
There’s a giant pig resting on a shelf above the restrooms with a sign hanging around its neck. It reads: Boars and
Sows This Way with an arrow pointing down the hall. I follow the directions and do my business before washing my hands in the sink when a familiar face catches my eye.
“Principal Wells?”
“Hello, Mr. Daniels,” he returns.
“What are you doing here?” Say and I had chosen a restaurant off the beaten path to keep from running into anyone for this specific reason.
Principal Wells shrugs one shoulder and replies, “This is my brother-in-law’s restaurant. We come here every Sunday to support his local business.”
“It’s hardly local,” I joke.
“Yes, I suppose you’re correct. Are you here with your family?”
“Just Grady, me, and”––I clear my throat––“a friend.”
“Friend?”
“Um, me and Saylor,” I answer. It’s not like he won’t find out if he walks through the restaurant while we’re still here, and being caught in a lie would only encourage his suspicion. “We’ve known each other since high school and decided to meet for brunch.”
Head cocked, and eyes narrowed into tiny slits, he studies me carefully, making me feel like I’m beneath a microscope.
“Friends?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his unmanicured nails scratching his cleanly shaven jaw. “I told you about our dating policy, didn’t I?”
“Yes. You mentioned it at the Boo Bash.”
“I thought so,” he returns, but that same microscopic intensity stays pointed in my direction. “It’d be fine if she were to remain a teacher, of course. But if she’s serious about being considered for the vice-principal position next year, which is already a bit of a long shot considering her age, I’m afraid this…friendship would be highly frowned upon.”
There’s an underlying tone that makes the French toast in my stomach churn, but I swallow past it, refusing to back down.
“Then, I guess it’s a good thing I’ll only be sticking around for the rest of the school year,” I divulge. The declaration surprises me as much as it seems to shock Principal Wells.
His eyes widen. “Is that so?”
