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“My sissy has a softball game.”
“Well, I hope she wins.”
A soft charm sounds that signals the end of the day and the students head to their cubbies to retrieve their bags and sit back down at their desks. This school does things a little differently for the younger kids, allowing the parents to come directly to their classroom to pick them up.
One by one the mothers or nannies come in to pick up the children. I chat with a few of them, exchanging pleasantries and discussing how their child is doing.
“Knock, knock.” I turn to my right to see Preston, my fellow teacher, smiling and waving at me from the doorway.
“Hey, Pres, all your kids gone already?”
“Yeah, the fifth graders don’t waste any time hauling out of here, especially on a Friday.” He laughs.
“I bet. I remember those days.” I smile and wave at one of the mothers when a tall figure catches my eye. It’s Mr. Vaughn, walking into the classroom casually in his navy suit. His white Oxford is unbuttoned a little, no tie. He catches me looking at him and I quickly look back at Preston. “Sorry, can you repeat that?” I ask.
“I was just saying that it was fun chatting with you at the bake sale the other night. You were amazing, running around getting everything done.”
“Thanks, it was great talking with you too.” I try to keep my eyes on Preston but I can feel Weston staring at me. He’s saying something to Daisy as she riffles through her backpack.
“So do you have any weekend plans?” He rocks back and forth on his feet, his hands in his pockets.
“Not really, no. Oh, well, that’s not totally true.” I laugh. “I actually have this picture I’ve been meaning to hang in my bedroom. I keep putting it off because if it can’t be done with Command Strips, I don’t like messing with it. I even bought the tools and it’s still just sitting there.”
“Totally relate but actually, I helped my mom hang like five huge family portraits not that long ago so I’m kind of a pro.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, so ya know, give me a call if you want help. Seriously. I’ll just be in the park playing sand volleyball with the guys or maybe down at North Ave Beach trying to soak up the last few warm days of summer. Speaking of which, you’re more than welcome to come if you want.”
“That’s super nice. Thanks so much for the invite.” I try to give as noncommittal of an answer as possible. Not because I don’t want to go, but I don’t want to give Preston the wrong idea. He’s sweet and definitely attractive, but I’m just not interested in him like that.
“So, I should probably get your number in case you want help with that picture?” He gives me a coy grin.
“Oh, yeah, for sure.”Shit, now I’m really giving him the wrong idea.
“Great, here’s my phone; you can just type it in.”
I type my name and number, hit save, and hand it back to him.
“Cool, see you this weekend maybe.” He waves and backs out of the room.
When I turn my attention back to the classroom, Daisy and her father are nowhere to be seen.
I spend my Friday night on the couch… like every other weekend. I’m usually too exhausted by the end of the week to go out anyway and being that Xana and Ryan are homebodies, I don’t really have anyone to go out with.
Partying was never my scene for very long. I went to my fair share of frat and house parties in college but after, I was happier staying home with Carson or hosting game nights with our friends.
I roll from my side to my back, staring up at the ceiling as another episode ofLaw and Order: SVUstarts up, the theme music a permanent fixture in my brain as I think it is in probably most of us.
I lift my foot to stare at my socks. “What’s wrong with my fuzzy socks?” I mutter, thinking about Weston’s comment. These ones are pale pink with little bunches of kale on them and the phraseI don’t kale at allwritten in yellow across the top. “I happen to think they’re cu—” A knock on my door startles me and I turn to look at it as if that will explain who it is. I drop my leg, sitting up as the person knocks again.
“Who is it?” I say timidly as I tiptoe toward the door, worried it’s my odd neighbor, Steve. There’s no answer. I stand on my tiptoes, peering through the peephole but the person is blocking it with their thumb. I hesitate for a moment, one hand on the handle, the other on the deadbolt. I unlock it, slowly turning the handle and opening the door a few inches to see Weston Vaughn with a scowl on his face.
“Why the fuck are you opening the door when you can’t see who it is?”
8
WESTON
