AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Ansel leans over, for a moment I fear he might fall from the chair but he’s completely unconcerned. “Don’t tell anyone,” his voice is a hushed murmur, “but she’s my grandma.”
“Is she really?”
“Yep.” His legs drop back to the floor. He seems unable to sit still for long. “I’m her favorite grandkid.” He winks.
“Are you sure?”
He lifts his shoulders. “Probably not, but close enough.”
We spend the rest of the period on our best behavior, although Ansel continues to move non-stop, always shifting his legs or drumming his fingers.
When the bell rings he slings his messenger bag over his shoulder. “See you later, Dandelion Meadows.”
Before I can correct him he disappears as if he wasn’t there at all.
Chapter Four
I spend lunch in the library before trekking across school to spend my everyday period with the school’s counselor. Probably some stuffy old fart, balding with bad breath and too big glasses who will pretend to know how I feel, to insist I can talk about my feelings and promise this is a safe space.
I pause outside the door. It’s near the administration offices, but off by itself. The blinds are closed on the window inset into the door.
Tentatively, I raise my fist and knock. My heart thunders in my chest, the telltale feel of perspiration beginning to pebble my skin.
The idea of someone expecting me to sit down and talk about my trauma fills me with a kind of dread I can’t explain.
“Come on in.”
Wrapping my hand around the handle, the doors emits a low whine as it swings open. In front of me I’m met with the nicest, most firm ass I’ve ever seen.
Please do not let this guy be some nasty old man, because that ass is incredible.
The counselor is bent over, fiddling with a filing cabinet.
“Take a seat,” he instructs, cursing under his breath. “Just trying to fix this.”
Something clangs and he whoops in victory, crawling away from the cabinet. It closes easily.
I stand, staring at the counselor, Mr. Taylor. He’s knelt on the ground, a pair of navy dress pants hugging his legs and ass. His pale blue button-down shirt is fitted and my God this guy is ripped. He looks like he should be a personal trainer with a body like that, not a high school counselor. From his profile I can tell he has dark scruff, a sharp nose, and full lips. His hair is a tumble of black messy waves.
When he stands up I squeak.
My high school counselor is Superman. Give him the glasses and he’s got the Clark Kent look down too.
He’s young, I doubt even thirty yet, and hot.
God, I know I didn’t want a creepy old man counselor but this one … he’s too beautiful for words. Normal would’ve been nice.
He brushes his large hands down the front of his pants and then sweeps one at the chairs.
“Take a seat.”
I’m pretty sure he already told me that once, but I was distracted by him bent over. It should be illegal for a butt to be that firm.
Removing my backpack, I set it on the floor before taking a seat in the hard plastic chair.
He sits down behind the desk. Neither is anything fancy, but the desk is neatly kept, though it is only the first day and I suppose that could change. There’s a diploma on the wall from the same college Sage attended.
“I’m Mr. Taylor and you’re…” He looks down at a piece of paper.
