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“I do, and I promise that if and when I find a good man, you’ll be the first to know.”
I don’t bother telling her that I think I’ve already found him, because I don’t want to get her hopes up—or my hopes, for that matter. I still have to find a way to snag him. And by him, I mean Trevor.
It’s been three weeks since our heated kiss, and I’ve thought about him every second of every day. I’ve thought about the touch of his skin against mine, his soft lips, and the way he held me as if I was the most precious thing in the world. I’ve never felt so alive and wanted, and it’s made me think long and hard about what I’d begun to realize about my rules even before my disaster of a date with Joseph. I’ve bubble-wrapped the passion right out of my relationships. Of course I need to be careful and responsible, but maybe relaxing my stringent standards a bit would be worth it if it meant getting to experience what I felt in that bathroom with Trevor again.
That thought alone makes my heart race and my palms sweat, but it no longer gives me the urge to throw up. I’m left wondering if those sensations are of anticipation rather than dread.
There’s only one way to find out.
The only problem? I haven’t seen Trevor to tell him, and it hasn’t been for lack of trying. I’ve done all the things I normally do, including dinner at Dirty Dicks with Mo and Rhett, and I even had an impromptu girl’s night out with Mo, Tess, and Trevor’s sister, Adley, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of him at the bar. But he was nowhere to be seen either time.
I could pick up the phone and call him, but what would I say? Hey, remember that kiss we shared? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Wanna do it again?
“You better get going or you’re going to be late.”
I look down at my watch. Crap. “I have three classes tonight, and the last one gets over at eight, so I should be back here to pick up Milo by eight fifteen.”
Milo is spoiled rotten, and I learned the hard way that when I come home from work, she expects me to stay there and pamper her. And by the hard way I mean she destroyed my favorite heels and we went three days without speaking to each other. Needless to say, from now on, when I volunteer in the evenings, she comes to Mom and Phil’s, who don’t seem to mind one bit.
“Okay, sweetie, go do your thing.”
I kiss Mom on the cheek, then Milo, and I slip out the door.
10
Claire
“Tara, keep your eyes on your own paper.”
“Yes, Ms. Daniels.” She bites her bottom lip and drops her eyes to the worksheet in front of her.
“Ms. Daniels, can I use the restroom?”
“Me too.”
I look at the identical little faces. Troy and Marcus have light blond hair, pale green eyes, and porcelain skin. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were angels. But they’re not, which is why they spend two hours a week here with me. If any of the kids in my class are going to move their clip down for talking, it’s these two.
“I don’t know, can you?”
Marcus smiles and tries again. “May we use the restroom?”
Troy shifts around in his seat, crossing his legs. If I don’t give them an answer, I’ll be stuck cleaning up the mess.
“Troy, you go first and then Marcus can go.”
Troy jumps from his seat while Marcus’ eyes grow wide. “I can’t hold it,” he whines.
I sigh. “Fine. Both of you go. Be quick, don’t play, and wash your hands when you’re done.”
You’d think first graders wouldn’t need detailed instructions on using the bathroom, but you’d be surprised.
The twins scurry off. I peek my head out the door and watch each of them walk into the bathroom before I pull the door shut and allow my gaze to travel across the classroom. Although it’s not really a classroom—not like the one I’m used to.
During the day I teach first grade at Heaven Elementary School, and on Wednesday nights I volunteer here. Bright Start Learning Center is in an old home that’s been refurbished into a tutoring facility. The number of kids I tutor varies based on child need, but I have a consistent group of ten, all of whom are present tonight. They range from first grade to third and come from both the public and private school, and three of them, the twins included, are also in my regular first grade class.
Laughter drifts through the thin walls, drawing the attention of Josephine and Tara. I clear my throat, and both girls look at me before shifting their eyes to their papers. The house is small, with six different rooms, each filled with anywhere from five to ten kids. On some nights, with kids being kids, it gets a little loud in here.
Cecelia raises her hand, and I make my way across the room to kneel next to her desk.
