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“Mind if I sit?” Willow asked, pointing down at the chair next to me, already halfway down into the seat.
“Sure.” I waved my hand at it and took a sip of my coffee. We only had ten minutes until the first class of the day, and I was looking forward to it, unlike the other teachers in this room. As soon as I heard their murmurings about when the next vacation was, I remembered one of the reasons why I’d steered clear of this room in the first place.
“You just moved here, right?”
I raised a brow and looked at Willow. “Moved back, yeah. I grew up here. Went to this school actually.”
“Really?” Her false eyelashes fluttered as she batted her eyelids. “Wow. I can’t imagine teaching in my old high school.”
I grinned because I understood. The plan was to never come back here and teach, but life liked to throw curveballs at you. You could either stand in its way and get yourself knocked out, or you could move to the left and start over. I decided to start over, even if it was where I’d begun.
“It is what it is,” I said, not really interested in going over my life history. She only needed to know the basics.
Willow placed some of her light-brown hair behind her ear and quirked her lip on one side. I knew the signs better than anyone else. She was trying to gain my attention, but the low V cut of her blouse showcasing her cleavage didn’t do it for me.
“So I guess that means you know about Clive’s bar?”
/> I chuckled and shuffled forward on my seat, more than ready to get out of here. “I do.”
“We all meet up there on Fridays after school. You should join us.”
“Maybe.” I flicked my gaze around the room and took stock of everyone. They ranged in age, the oldest being my old chemistry teacher who had to be pushing seventy now, and the youngest being…well, probably Willow and me. I wasn’t sure how old she was, but at twenty-five, I was the young guy—the one who “didn’t understand” what twenty years in the job did to you. I called bullshit.
“We have a blast,” Willow continued as she settled back in her seat and crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up her thigh, flashing her tan skin. “Last week Harold got so drunk we had to call his wife to come get him at nine.” She giggled. “He’s such a lightweight.”
I had no idea who Harold was.
All my old high school friends had moved away and not come back, which meant I didn’t have any real friends to just…hang out with. I was a loner, but I’d never been that way. My family surrounded me, but I needed more than that. I needed someone to go and shoot the shit with and drink a beer. I needed a social life, and this would be the start of that.
Mind made up, I stood. “What time do you meet there?”
Willow’s smile spread so wide I was sure she was going to break her face. “Between seven and eight.”
I nodded. “Okay, I’ll think about it.” I hooked my thumb over my shoulder. “Better get to class.”
Willow huffed out a breath. “Ugh, that time of day again.”
“Yep,” I replied. She was like most of the other people in this room. She didn’t want to be here, but I needed to be here, for more reasons than I liked to admit.
Chapter Six
ARIA
It wasn’t often I worked a shift in the diner, but when I got here for our weekly family dinner, and Mom told me they were two people down, I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.
I’d been put on pot duty, which meant my hands were constantly wet and covered in suds, but at least the dishwasher was working for half of my shift. I was four hours in, and it was already 9 p.m. I should have been back at the apartment doing homework and checking out my new workout schedule, but instead, I was here, in the one place I hated.
When I was a little girl, I’d come here and happily sit in a booth while people came in and out to eat food or drink a shake. But over the years, I’d started to resent the place. It was the reason my mom was at home less and less, and the reason I was alone most of the time. I wanted out of this place so I could choose something better for myself. I had no idea what that something better was, but it would be more than this. I couldn’t stay here and become my mom. I loved her more than anything, but I hated the fact she’d settled.
Even when Dad was here, he didn’t work the way Mom did. He’d have his good days and his bad days. Sometimes he wouldn’t get out of bed for four days straight, but then he would be lively for two and crash again. It meant he couldn’t hold down a job, so Mom had to be the stable one, the one providing, and it also meant she was out working more times than not.
I understood she had to do what she did, but it didn’t mean I had to like it. Dad had been gone for almost nine years, so why was she still working the way she used to? She had Sal now. She had support. But that didn’t stop her working all the hours she could. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.
Maybe it wasn’t about the money. Maybe she couldn’t stand seeing my dad’s eyes every time she looked at me. Maybe staring at my face reminded her of him. My chest started to cave in, my thoughts weighing me down, and I was sure to sink at a moment’s notice.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom’s tired voice called as the door to the kitchen swung open. The bags under her eyes told a story of little sleep, and the way her feet dragged showed me how tired she really was. “How you getting on?”
“Good,” I said as I placed another pot in the dishwasher and closed it up. “Is it still busy out there?”
