Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
brAX
I’ve only been back in her orbit for a few weeks, and already I’m like some lovesick teenager waiting by his locker hoping to accidentally run into his crush. After ten years, you’d think I’d have more self-control.
You’d be wrong. I’m still head over heels for Callie Mae.
I grab my messenger bag and coffee thermos, taking an extra moment to check my reflection in the rearview mirror. The fact that I’m primping like I’m heading to prom instead of summer school makes me roll my eyes at myself.
“Pathetic, Williams,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair one last time.
A knock on my window nearly sends me through the roof of my car. Mrs. Palmer stands outside with her daughter, Lizzy, both of them grinning at me through the glass. I take a steadying breath and roll down the window.
“Good morning, Mr. Williams!” Lizzy bounces on her toes, her rainbow backpack nearly as big as she is.
“Morning, sunshine.” I nod at Mrs. Palmer. “How’s the ankle? I heard about your hiking mishap.”
She grimaces, shifting her weight off her wrapped foot. “Much better. Though I’ve learned my lesson about texting and trail walking.”
“Good idea.” I open my door. It’s early, but it’s summer and already humid as hell. The moisture is heavy in the air hinting at rain set to come later in the day. “And speaking of walking, I’ll escort this young lady inside while you take it easy.”
“Mommy, can I go with Mr. Williams?” Lizzy pulls at her mom’s sleeve. “Please?”
Mrs. Palmer looks relieved. “That would be wonderful, actually. I’ve been so swollen with this heat.”
“I got it from here. Tell John I said hello.”
Lizzy slips her tiny hand into mine, chattering about the butterfly she saw that morning as we head toward the school entrance. I nod and comment at all the right moments, but my mind is firmly fixed on what might happen when I see Callie.
We called a truce, but what does that look like at school? Will she still avoid me?
The cool air conditioning hits us as we push through the double doors, and I send Lizzy off to hang her backpack. I scan the hallway, searching for that familiar messy ponytail and curves that haunt my dreams.
And as if my desperate thoughts conjured her, she’s suddenly there, standing halfway down the corridor just before the cafeteria doors, staring at her phone like she’s frozen in place. Her face has gone pale, her free hand pressed against her mouth. Even from this distance, I can see she’s shaking.
What the hell?
“I’ll catch you later, Lizzy,” I call, not even checking if the girl heard me as I stride toward Callie. Whatever she’s looking at has her completely absorbed. She doesn’t even notice me approaching until I’m right beside her.
“Morning, sunshine.”
She jumps, her phone almost slipping from her grip. She fumbles, catching it against her chest, quickly shutting the screen off.
“Jesus Christ, Braxton!” Her voice comes out higher than normal. “Make some noise when you walk, would you?”
“Sorry.” I’m not. “Everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Her attention darts from me to her phone and back again. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing doesn’t usually make people look like they’re about to pass out.” I lean in, searching her face. “What’s going on?”
“Like I said, it’s nothing.” She shoves her phone into her back pocket, a tight smile stretching across her face. “Just. . . work drama. Bar stuff.”
She’s lying. I can always tell by the way her left eye twitches when she’s bullshitting. It’s been doing it since we were ten.
“HELP!” The shriek from down the hallway cuts through our conversation. Ms. Jennings bursts through the door, her hands covered in something bright blue. “We have a situation!”
Callie actually looks relieved at the interruption. “What’s wrong?”
“Some of the kids got into the supply closet,” Ms. Jennings explains, panic evident in her voice. “There’s paint everywhere. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling somehow. And the sixth grade summer showcase is this afternoon!”
“I’ve got this.” Callie springs into action, already moving past me. She pauses for half a second, hand brushing my arm. “I’m really fine, Brax. Promise.”
Before I can press her further, she’s jogging down the hallway after Ms. Jennings. There’s fire in her eyes when she turns back once more.
“You coming or what, Williams?”
I’m transported back in time to Callie rushing off into danger and me and my brothers chasing after her. My feet start moving before my brain catches up. Whatever was on her phone will have to wait. For now, at least.
I can’t stop stealing glances at Callie as we navigate the crowded hallway toward the teachers’ lounge.
The elementary school lunchroom is chaos incarnate today.
Spilled milk, shouting kids, and harried staff trying to maintain order, which is nearly impossible considering it’s summer break.
None of these kids really want to be here.
When Callie grimaces at the noise level, I seize my opportunity.
“Do you want to escape to the picnic tables?” I nod toward the windows where a few sunbeams spill across the courtyard through the thicket of clouds. “Unless you enjoy the soothing sounds of kids arguing about which superhero could beat up which Pokémon.”
She rolls her eyes, but her lips quirk upward. “Lead the way.”
The muggy summer air hits as we emerge. Callie’s hair lifts slightly in the breeze, and I fight the urge to grab it and reel her in.
“The pergola’s nice,” she says, pointing to the wooden structure covering the table. “Who built that?”
“Knox, actually. School fundraiser three years ago.”
Her step falters slightly at his name, but she recovers quickly. “Of course he did.”
We settle at the picnic table, knees almost touching underneath. I pull out my lunch bag while Callie unpacks a neat container of what looks like a salad with goat cheese and cranberries.
“Fancy,” I tease, unwrapping my peanut butter sandwich.
She grins at my lunch. “Are you still twelve? Please tell me you at least used crunchy peanut butter.”
“Smooth. Always smooth.” I take a deliberate bite and smile through my mouthful. “Only demons like crunchy.”
“Dammit. My cover is blown.” She shakes her head, then squints at my lunch bag. “What else do you have in there?”
I pull out an apple and a bag of chips. Her eyes light up when she spots the chips, and I remember how this used to go in high school. She’d always bring something healthy her mom packed, and I’d always bring junk. Inevitably, we’d swap.
“I’ll trade you my chips for whatever that is.” I point to a container of what looks like blackberries. Sally Mae was always proud of her blackberry bushes.
“Oh, I couldn’t.” But she pushes the berries toward me anyway and snatches the bag with a smirk.
The first blackberry bursts against my tongue, sweet and tart simultaneously. We eat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of distant playground shouts our soundtrack.
“So. . .” I venture, popping another berry into my mouth. “Still painting? Any gallery shows I can brag about attending?”
The peace vanishes from her expression. She takes a deliberate bite of salad, chews thoroughly before answering. “Not exactly. Hey, how’d you end up teaching anyway? Last I remember, you were dead set on joining Knox at the auto shop.”
I notice the pivot but don’t push. Whatever happened with her art in the city is clearly a sore spot.
“You remember Knox helping us with homework?” I ask instead.
Her features soften. “Of course. He was basically a walking calculator.”
“Yeah, well, turns out I was paying attention to more than just the math answers. The way he’d break things down, explain it so it made sense.
” I pause, searching for words. “After Mom left, Knox stepped up in ways he shouldn’t have had to.
He’d help us with school stuff even when he was exhausted from doing his own because Dad was working and didn’t have time. ”
I tear off a piece of crust, rolling it between my fingers.
“One day I was volunteering at the after-school program, and this kid was struggling with fractions. I channeled my inner Knox. The look on that boy’s face when it clicked changed my life.
I was hooked and suddenly, all I wanted to do was help kids the way Knox helped me. ”
“That’s really sweet, Brax.”
“It’s not all heartwarming moments, though.
” I glance toward the school. “Some of these kids come in hungry, or tired, or scared. There was this one boy in my class last year who would flinch whenever I raised my voice to get everyone’s attention.
It made me sick thinking about what might be happening at home. ”
“Have you reported it?” Her voice is gentle but concerned.
“I did everything by the book. Social services visited, but. . .” I shrug, frustration evident. “The system’s broken. I try to make my classroom the safest place I can.”
When I look up, Callie’s studying me with an intensity that makes my skin heat.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing.” She smiles. “Just wondering when we grew up.”
I laugh, rubbing at the back of my neck. “Tell me about it. My back hurts when I sleep wrong, and I actually bought fiber supplements last week. Voluntarily. But hey, it’s better than teenage angst, though, right?” I offer. “All that drama, uncertainty. Nice to leave those worries behind.”
Her “yeah” sounds hollow, noncommittal. Something’s weighing on her.
My mind flits back to this morning, her standing in the hallway staring at her phone, the way she seemed rooted in terror.
Before I can probe further, a jagged flash of lightning splits the clouds, thunder cracking almost immediately after and the skies open.
“Shit!” Callie grabs her containers, and I fumble for my lunch bag as rain pours down in sheets.
We sprint toward the building, shoes splashing through rapidly forming puddles.
By the time we reach the covered walkway, we’re both soaked.
Callie’s laughing, breathless, hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks flushed.
Water drips from my nose as I stand there, transfixed by that sound. God, I fucking love her laugh.
Our eyes lock, and something electric passes between us that has nothing to do with the storm. I step toward her, my hand reaching for her hip, drawn by a force I couldn’t fight if I wanted to.
“Mr. Williams!” The door bangs open as Tommy races outside. “Did you see that lightning? It was so close!”
The moment shatters. Callie steps back, tucking dripping hair behind her ear while I plaster on my teacher smile. “Sure was, buddy. Better get inside before it strikes again though. It’s dangerous.”
As I usher him back into the building, I catch Callie’s eye over Tommy’s excited chatter. The electricity’s still there, humming beneath my skin.
We might be all grown up now, but some things, the important things, haven’t changed at all. And I’m damn sure going to make sure I get her alone again.