Chapter 34 Andie
Thirty Four
Andie
I’m on fumes and seven cups of caffeine, with the eighth one spilling over my hand as I run around like a headless chicken trying to get everything in order.
Today, it’s either a make or a break.
And I desperately want to make it to the finish line.
The children bubble with anxiety and excitement, unable to stay on one emotion. I get that, it’s their first performance at this level.
These little souls have put in their blood, sweat, and tears. And I want today to be a success for not just me, but also for them. They should know how it feels to taste victory after putting in everything you can.
The audience would start entering the theatre hall in two hours. Ticking off ‘dresses’ off the list, I move on to the next item, ‘Lights and music’, to get everything in order on time.
Heading over to the two guys who’ll be managing the tech setup tonight, I hand them the backup pen drive, just in case.
One by one, I take care of everything on the list and head back to the children backstage, where I find Mrs. Deena talking to the Principal, Mr. Gates.
Discarding the now-empty coffee cup in the nearest bin, I square my shoulders because talking to Mrs. Deena is more like a battle than a civil conversation. Heading over to them, I give them both a smile. “Good morning,” I greet.
Mr. Gates returns with a polite smile, “Good Morning, Ms. Moore. I hope everything for tonight is in order?”
“Absolutely, Sir,” I say with the confidence I don’t feel, but fake it till you make it, right?
“Splendid,” he nods, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Good luck tonight, and if all goes well, we can discuss your contract tomorrow.”
He doesn’t say it to be rude or judgmental, but the reminder still weighs heavily on my shoulders. My smile turning tight as I put effort into maintaining it for him.
With another encouraging nod, he walks away, leaving me alone with the woman who seems to hate my guts for reasons I doubt even God knows.
“We will know tonight,” Mrs. Deena crosses her arms at her chest, her appearance as immaculate as ever. “We’ll know if you’re worth anything or just another try-hard who thought teaching and handling responsibilities is a joke.”
Her condescending tone grates on my nerves, but also manages to stir worry inside of me. What if she’s right and I’m useless and incompetent? What if I wasn’t cut out for this?
No, I can’t let her get to me. I’ve spent countless hours working and refining the program, and hard work always pays off. Who exactly is she to judge and make me doubt my own capabilities?
“Guess we will,” I reply, not bothering to smile to keep up the pretense when she’s been hostile to me from the first day I set foot into the premises.
I turn on my heels without waiting for her to give another snide comment or make an insult disguised as an observation.
I basically just blew off the Vice Principal of the school I’m trying to get a permanent teaching position at. Look at me go!
Heaving a tired breath, I head back to where the kids are in one of the classes closest to the hall. Stopping short at the entrance to the class, I cross my arms across my chest and take in the excited children as they try on their dresses and chatter about how important their role is in the play.
Some of the tension bleeds away at the welcome sight. The gleeful smile of these kids reminds me why I do this, why I want to be a teacher—a teacher who leaves a lasting impact on their lives.
Yes, I do it for these kids.
With that thought in mind, I get back to doing a final check before the show starts. Huddling the first group of children toward the backstage area, I give the mic to Tabi to practice her welcome speech.
Tabi hurries to the center of the stage and gets in position, delivering her lines with perfection. That’s when I hear something metallic creaking.
My hackles rise, dread spreading the length of my spine as my eyes frantically dart to the source of the noise. The next few moments pass as if in slow motion, though it’s only a few seconds.
I choke on my breath, my wide eyes flicking to Tabi, standing blissfully oblivious to the danger looming right over her head. My ears start ringing as everyone goes around minding their own business, unaware of the impending catastrophe.
The pens and cardboard in my hand clatter to the ground as I rush to Tabi, each step feeling a mile long, pulling her into my chest and covering her tiny body with mine. My eyes squeeze shut as I await the flare of pain from the overhead stage spotlight crashing into me.
But that’s not what I feel.
All I feel is a warm body plastered into me as it grunts over me, their hot breath falling over my ear as they wrap their arms around the little kid under my protection and me . Saving us from a horrific disaster.
For a moment, everything ceases to move as the light crashes over the body, the sound of the glass hitting the wood beneath our feet deafening. But it doesn’t just stop at that. The entire overhead panel creaks and falls over us, over the person guarding us.
Tabi screams in my arms. I want to scream too.
I don’t.
I can’t.
Not when everyone is dependent on me.
When I finally come to my senses after the subsequent crash, I relish the familiar heat of the person above me. I know it’s him before I even see him.
The hall fills with shouts and cries of every single person present. I’m suddenly airborne, Tabi’s figure hunched over me. My eyes practically bug out as I finally cast my glance to Noah, who lifts us both in his arms without an oomph.
This mountain of a man makes me feel like a delicate flower while continuing to nourish my roots and make me stronger day after day.
I let the warmth of his embrace seep into my soul for as long as possible, yet it vanishes too soon when he walks down the few stairs of the stage and lowers us to the ground.
The involuntary grunt that slips past his lips reminds me of his condition—of how he endured the full force of the lights shattering against his back.
I stagger on my feet, putting Tabi down carefully. Just as I’m about to turn to him to assess his injuries, my heart thundering in my ears at the fear of how much he must’ve hurt himself, I’m hauled back and crushed into another chest just as I’m about to touch Noah’s cheek.
“Fuck, Kid. Are you alright?” Ezra pulls back, frantically inspecting every inch of me from head to toe, his face leeched of any color. He must be worried sick.
I point at Noah, since he’s the one who bore the brunt of it. He should be checked out. Ezra ignores me, continuing to fuss over me. I love my brother to death, but I need him to stop and let me get to Noah.
My breath stutters when I turn to him, only to find a trail of blood flowing from his forehead down to his neck. He hurt his head. It could be serious.
Before I lose it and explode, Kaeli calms Ezra down. I understand him—he came so close to losing someone so important in his life, he couldn’t bear to see someone else he loves get hurt.
But someone I love is fucking bleeding, and I can’t go to him.
Of course, I love him.
How can I not? When he keeps putting others over himself.
I’d think there was something wrong with me if I didn’t feel anything for this man.
I hate that he cares so little about his well-being, though. Even if it’s me he’s trying to protect.
“She’s alright, Ezra. Let her go,” Kaeli rubs his arm, calming him with just her touch. And my eyes and a barest hint of a smile thank her for it.
“I’m okay, Ezra,” I assure him, my hands covering his as they fall between us. He searches my eyes with his own furrowed ones, and nods when he sees that I don’t have a scratch.
The same can’t be said about Noah. But the second I take a step in his direction, he takes one back, imperceptibly shaking his head. When my brows draw together, my feet urging me to erase the distance between us, he slightly cocks his head at Ezra, who’s watching us, him more than me.
I relent, hating every second of it.
My hands clench, fisting my dress to hold onto something, lest I do something like run to him and kiss him in front of my brother.
While I might not have restrained myself if it were any other day, I do today.
Noah is in no condition to protect himself from my brother when he ultimately loses it and bashes Noah for going behind his back.
Because he will.
Ezra walks over to Noah, clasping his shoulder. A silent gasp falls out of my mouth as I feel his pain when his face contorts in pain for a mere second, when Ezra’s hand lands on him.
“You should get checked out, dude. You’re bleeding,” Ezra suggests, seeing his friend in a ragged condition.
Noah rolls his eyes and pulls out a handkerchief from the back of his jeans pocket, wiping the blood off his face without so much as flinching. “We play with concussions, Ezra. This is nothing, and you know it.”
“You sure?” my brother confirms, not entirely convinced.
But Noah nods, and that’s that for him. “Thanks for saving my sister, man.” Both their gaze cut to me, Kaeli now at my side, draping her arm over my shoulder and pulling me in.
“She could’ve been seriously hurt.” He chokes up on his last words and clears his throat to cover it.
Noah’s burning eyes rake over me, discerning if I’m injured—this fool. “I’d do it again.” I know those words are meant for me. My heart stutters at the conviction and care in his voice.
When it’s clear that this stubborn man will not be getting checked out, I finally see if all my students are safe.
I look around the room and breathe a sigh of relief, seeing them all unscathed and far away from the stage.
The other teacher hurries them to the empty classrooms, and I give them a grateful, shaky nod.
What comes as a surprise, though, is that the room is filled with all the players on my brother’s team. My eyes widen at each of them, occupying different spots in the room as if they belong here.