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“Wow,” he said.
Wow. She could eat that word. She’d waited long enough for it. Before she could hold the word up and admire his praise, he added, “I suddenly feel old. You were like, what, six when I left for college?”
Then he went on with the rest of the roll.
In so many ways those sentences had put her back on the stairs, an awkward, invisible girl with braces. It wasn’t a role she wanted. And it wasn’t a role she intended to keep.
Seventeen-year-olds are reckless in so many ways.
2
That long-ago night at dinner, Elsie told her parents that Kye was her teacher. Her dad nodded as though it was a sad event, one to be mourned over. “He was going to get his electrical engineering degree, but after his father had that knee injury, Kye got his teaching certificate instead. He came home so he could help run the ranch.”
Kye was the youngest of three children. Elsie didn’t know much about his older sister and brother except that they were both married and living in other states. Apparently, neither could come back to help out on the ranch.
Elsie had never thought she could be grateful for someone’s injury before, but she was. Kye was back. He would be teaching at her school for at least a year. Best of all, he was gorgeous and still single.
Elsie’s mother took a bite of her lasagna. “It must be hard on him to be back home when most of his friends are gone.”
Gorgeous, single, and lonely—even better. Well, not really. But sort of. It wasn’tthatlong until she graduated. Only nine months. And then she and Kye could have a romantic whirlwind summer. She could picture them walking hand in hand across the overgrown grass on his ranch, sunshine pouring around them.
“Kye always loved my homemade applesauce,” Elsie’s mother went on. “I’ll send a bottle with you tomorrow to give to him.”
Strictly speaking, her mother’s applesauce was more like pie filling. That’s why everyone loved it.
The next day, Elsie was the first one to reach Kye’s classroom. She’d been looking forward to giving the bottle of applesauce to him all day—had spent extra time on her hair and makeup in anticipation of this event—but now she just felt nervous. Transparent. It was one thing to be an eight-year-old with a crush on him. Now, well, this was entirely different. He was a teacher and she was a student. This could turn into the most awkward hour of the day if he knew how she felt. She fidgeted with the jar of applesauce hidden behind her books and wished her mother hadn’t sent it.
Kye was sitting on the edge of his desk, flipping through the math book. His brown hair was mussed, and his button-down shirt was a little wrinkled. Such a bachelor.
He looked up when she came in, turning his evening-blue eyes on her. He held her gaze, perhaps because she was staring at him and slowly padding over.
“Did you have trouble with the homework?” he asked.
He had told the class yesterday that he offered tutoring in the morning before school. She had considered faking confusion so she could spend extra time with him, but the assignment was just a review of the stuff she’d done last year. And besides, she wanted him to know how smart she was. Kye, she was sure, liked smart girls.
“No,” she said. “I brought something for you. An apple for the teacher.” She pulled out the bottle and handed it to him.
He smiled in happy surprise. “Your mom’s applesauce?”
“Yep. She insisted I bring it to you.”
Kye turned the bottle in his hands. “This is the best stuff. Tell her she’s completely ruined me for store-bought applesauce.”
“Well, there’s more where that came from.” The Clarks had four apple trees in their yard, which meant there wasa lotmore where that came from. Suddenly Elsie was glad she’d always been drafted into applesauce duty—the way to a man’s heart and all of that.
Kye put the bottle on his desk and surveyed Elsie. “I see how it is,” he said, teasing. “Your mom thinks she can bribe me into passing you. It might work. She should at least try.”
Elsie smiled back at him, more comfortable now. “I won’t need bribery to pass calculus. I learned everything I know about math from Carson.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Remind your mom I like the cinnamon kind too.”
Elsie had meant it as a compliment to Kye—he’d taught Carson, and Carson had taught her. Although strictly speaking, Carson hadn’t helped her that much with her math, so it was probably a convoluted attempt at a compliment to begin with. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
Kye held out his hand, palm up. “Let’s see your homework.”
She pulled it from her notebook and handed it to him, already feeling a glowing sense of pride. He glanced over it, nodded with approval, and set it down on his desk. “You obviouslydidn’tlearn everything you know about math from Carson. I hate to disillusion you about you your big brother—especially since he’s one of my best friends—but Carson frequently couldn’t remember which order the numbers went in.”
Elsie laughed. “I don’t think he was quitethatbad.”
