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I whip my head around, noticing that the car has stopped, but Harrison’s eyes remain on mine for another few seconds before he pulls back, the cool air from his absence making me shiver.
“We’re here, sir,” Tom states, before he steps out of the car and walks around to open our door.
“You okay?” Harrison asks with slight concern on his face. I smile, and his wrinkles ease.
“I’m more than okay.”
12
HARRISON
Everbright Elementary School. The place where I’ll deliver my educational policies that I will enact if elected. Turns out, it is the same place where I watch a particular redhead get down on her knees in front of me, a sight I was not ready for.
I watch her play on the carpet with a small group of six-year-olds whose little faces light up like Christmas trees the minute she gives them attention. Not dissimilar to my own, I am starting to learn.
With Beth by my side, my smile is even wider and now reaches my eyes. I shake my head, thinking about how I almost kissed her in the car, not believing I came so close, knowing that if I started, it would be very fucking hard to stop. Not to mention, that I am in the middle of my campaign and gunning for the very job I have dreamt of having for most of my life. The deep-seated desire to be governor hasn’t waned. It just doesn’t seem to be the only thing that gets my blood pumping since she popped into my life.
I can feel the tension between us growing stronger by the day. Every time we are together, I see her fingers fidget, her chest rise and fall faster, and I know this is not one-sided. I can almost feel her putting up a professional wall when we get closer, the urge we both have to jump over it becoming very hard to stop, but I respect her for it. She is showing just as much resistance as I am, I can feel it. Personally, I need a fucking gold medal for my self-control, because the more time I spend with her, the more I want to uncover.
I finish up the coloring I was working on with a small group of kids, cameras flashing in our faces every two minutes. When I looked through the pile of drawings on offer, one stuck out immediately, and I eagerly got to work. It was almost relaxing sitting here in the chair way too small for me chatting with the kids. I learned all about how cool slime is and how doing a front flip is harder that a back flip.
As I stand, I take my picture with me, holding it in one hand as I walk around the room with the school principal.
“Everbright is a great school, Mr. Rothschild. We are in the lower socio-economic part of town, as you know. We are a small school, with three hundred kids in total. I have been here for close to ten years, and it is a great community; we just need some additional resources and support,” Principal Robert McNash says as he gives me a small tour of the school, my eyes looking around as he talks, yet always coming back to Beth, watching her smile and play, the kids totally enamored with her. Just like I am.
It isn’t just the kids either. She has given her time to all the parents and staff in the hour since we have been here, listening and chatting. She was made for this, talking to the community, listening and being empathetic to their needs. It is where she shines.
“Tell me about the teachers you have on staff,” I ask Robert, and as he explains the staff cohort, I nod and smile, observing the few journalists that have turned up today. Oscar and Eddie are talking to other support staff, getting more information on the school and current education system that we can unpack later.
“Education is something that I think is extremely important. I was afforded the best, but many people don’t have that luxury. Robert, today, I will be announcing that schools just like Everbright will be able to access a teachers’ fund, additional payments, and support to teachers who work in community schools, along with new programs helping children through additional learning pathways, such as tutoring and support for children with learning difficulties.” My heart warms when I see his smile widen.
“That would be very appreciated, Mr. Rothschild, and something that I think would benefit the children greatly.” The two of us turn to watch the kids in the classroom, and the first thing I see is Beth now with more kids around her as she reads a book to them all. I can’t help but smile as I watch her get into character, pulling funny faces and changing her voice to fit the storyline, just like my mother used to do with me as a kid.
I move from where I am standing and go and join them, sitting on the old carpet next to a small boy who seems to be an outlier. Beth watches me and smiles briefly before continuing with her story.
“You’re too big to sit here,” the young boy whispers to me.
“Do you want me to move?” I ask as I look down at him. The small scruffy boy gives me a smirk before shaking his head.
“My name is Harrison, but you can call me Harry,” I say. It is a nickname my father used to use, one that hasn’t been said since he died.
“My name is Charlie, and you can call me Charlie,” he whispers back with a small nod, and I smile at his spunk. We sit together like that for a beat, both watching Beth as she continues to tell the story. Her eyes lighting up, her beaming smile taking over the place.
“Are you her boyfriend?” he asks me, and my eyebrows raise in surprise.
“That’s a pretty adult question to ask?”
“It’s a yes or no answer, Harry,” he says deadpan, and I try not to laugh.
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because if you are, I will leave her alone, but if you are not, then I am going to ask her to be my girlfriend because she is pretty.” I chuckle, but his expression couldn’t be more serious.
“I can’t argue with you there. She is pretty. But she might be a little too old for you. What about that girl over there?” I say as I point to a cute little blonde girl sitting down in the front near Beth, hanging on her every word.
“That’s Emily,” he says as his cheek flush. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Why is that?”
