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Ruth
Austin is my new routine.
Every morning he's there, waiting for me. Leaned up against his motorcycle, looking like some sort of tattooed god.
We jog together, or go on long walks through Runyon Canyon. We talk about my day, or his plans for the future. He waits for me after school, my cheerful helmet in hand. The other day, Mrs. Faulkner asked if he was my boyfriend.
I can still hear her wicked giggle as I climbed up on the back of his bike and we drove off.
Austin drops me off and picks me up, always taking me somewhere new. A picnic in the mountains. Sunset volleyball on the beach. The Audrey Hepburn film festival at an old movie theater. Exploring hole-in-the-wall restaurants. All the things I’ve always dreamed about.
It’s like he knew me even before I met him.
“I’ve already apologized. Stop rubbing it in” Penelope groans over the din of recess. We’re camped out in our usual spot, snack in hand. “What are you even saying? He’s too perfect?”
I watch Pen take an enthusiastic bite out of her donut, powdered sugar dusting the front of her bright yellow apron.
"That's just it.” I point in her direction with my yogurt spoon. “You've got fantasies, right?"
“Oh honey, tons.” Penelope cackles. There’s this one with twins that —”
"No, not like that.” I shake my head, laughing along. “I mean your perfect first date. Or your ideal day off. That book you’ve been meaning to get to.”
“Austin knows all of mine. Or he's just a really good guesser." I stir my yogurt, thinking.
Penelope takes another bite of donut, chewing thoughtfully.
“You wrote him a lot. Could he have paid attention to what you said?” Penelope sighs. “Speaking of fantasies.”
I take another bite of yogurt, enjoying the crunch of granola.
One more shake-up in my routine.
"Maybe. But a lot of this is from letters I never sent.” A thought occurs to me, sending icy trickles down my spine. “Pen, do you think he snuck into my palace and read them?"
For the first time in weeks, anxiety threatens to climb up my throat. It isn’t until I feel the rapid tick of my heart that I realize how long it’s been. Austin makes me feel safe and secure. So why am I still a little scared of him?
“I thought you said he was sweet. You’ve spent the past two weeks glued to his side, Ruth.” Penelope finishes the last of her bear claw and dusts off her fingers. “Now you’re worried he snooped through your things to find ways to make you happy?”
I sigh, shaking my head.
"I didn't send those for a reason. They’re personal.” I can’t quite shake the feeling that something isn’t adding up. “Why would he do that?”
"There’s only one person who can answer that.” Penelope hops off her seat on the jungle gym, licking her fingers clean. “ Why not do the adult thing and talk to him? I know it’s scary, but I think it’s time.”
She walks over to the third-grade classroom she’s substituting for this week. The door opens just as the first bell rings, and the kids fall into a neat line.
I feel Austin’s eyes on me before I see him. I twist in my seat, looking out through the chain link. He’s there, leaning up against his bike, waiting for me. An hour early.
I don’t wave, not wanting to give the students around me anything to latch onto. Kids can be relentless with questions, especially about their teachers.
“Alright, class. Time to go in,” I announce to a chorus of groans.
"That's enough of that. You guys are growing up, and that means not complaining about what you have to do, alright? Or at least not where I can hear you."
As we all file back inside, I glance back over my shoulder one last time.
Time for me to grow up, too.
