20. Ellison
It’s early as I sit in the parking lot of Blackstone Falls Elementary and stare at the brick building that I attended, once upon a time. I barely slept last night, and it had everything to do with being alone in the cottage, returning stilted texts with Montana.
“Country Boy’s Dream Girl” by Ella Langley plays on the radio and I’d smile, because this song is amazing, if I weren’t still caught up in yesterday. Last night, I’d been the one who needed space, but leaving didn’t make it hurt any less.
I’d gotten too comfortable being in Montana’s house—in his bed. We hadn’t set up any real rules or anything—just jumped into things as if adding sex and physical intimacy would be no big deal.
I’d be lying if I said my body doesn’t crave him. But I need to slow things down before we end up drivin’ toward a cliff in a truck with no brakes.
My phone vibrates in my purse, and I narrow my eyes at it before hauling the bag into my lap, growling as I try to find the damn thing. My mother would be appalled at the contents of my favorite knockoff—lipstick, Chapstick, receipts, snacks, wrappers, gum that I can’t remember buying, mascara, a phone charger, and a dozen other random things.
Mentally, I add clean out purse to my to-do list before the actual school year starts as I snag the device in the bottom corner. And like I conjured him with my inner musings, Montana’s name appears on the screen.
MONTANA: Good luck today, Eddie. You’re gonna do great and they’re definitely gonna love you.
ELLISON: Thanks, I’m only a little nervous. Everything go okay last night?
MONTANA: Grandad had a few choice things to say to me about how I acted
ELLISON: He knows it’s because you love him so much
ELLISON: You feel big things, Max, and I adore that about you.
MONTANA: Yeah well it didn’t stop him from telling me I was acting like a jackass
I snort,because there’s no way Grandad called him a jackass.
ELLISON: Did he actually say that?
MONTANA: That was the gist
Glancing at the clock,I type out one last message.
ELLISON: Jackass or not, I love you
MONTANA: I love you more
MONTANA: You’re going to impress the hell out of them today
Smiling,I send a heart emoji before turning off my car, grabbing my blazer from the passenger seat, and opening my door. It’s sweltering today, and sweat gathers at the nape of my neck before I’m fully upright.
Moving quickly, I make my way across the parking lot without breaking into an all-out run. The shadow cast by the gymnasium offers little relief but I’ll take it. Stepping up to the door, I try not to focus on my reflection as I press the intercom and wait to be let inside.
Signing in, I smile at the woman behind the desk and take a seat in the offered chair. The school, from what I can see, is the same but different than I remember.
Colorful walls and murals make my heart sing—it’s a drastic change from the sterile environment we’d had in Savannah. I’m so distracted, I barely notice the sound of the buzzer as the receptionist lets someone else inside. He repeats the same process before turning toward me. He’s handsome with dark hair swept across his forehead and olive-green eyes.
“I’m Calvin Spence,” he says with a rehearsed smile as he offers me his hand, and while his expression is practiced, I can still feel the warmth in his gaze as we shake.
“Ellison Mills.”
“Oh good! Y’all already met,” Mrs. Erikson says as she buzzes past and motions for us to follow. “I’m Regina Erikson but please call me Reggie.” She’s dressed in a fitted bright-pink dress with matching fringe at the bottom and black high heels. It’s Barbie meets The Great Gatsby’s Daisy of elementary school principals but somehow she pulls it off flawlessly. Her blonde hair is tied into a sophisticated knot at the top of her head, and her makeup is fresh and understated.
She looks…natural, which shouldn’t be a big deal but is considering the majority of women I’ve encountered over the years have had at least one procedure to speak of. Not that they would admit it of course.
Deny.
Deny.
Deny.
Age is but a number unless you’re in certain circles and then age is the only thing keeping you relevant in the conversation.
“Can I just say,”—Reggie beams at us from across the desk in her office with more enthusiasm than I’m ready for—“that we are all so excited to have you with us this school year!”
She’s remarkably younger and much warmer than my last principal, but that’s probably not saying much considering I’d been locked into a contract with a private school in Savannah after graduation. Courtesy of my mother.
There wasn’t much I missed from there aside from the kids and this really cute boutique called Halcyon. Word on the street was that the owner, Ellie, had opened a second location in Tennessee, but I’d been too focused on the move home to look into it.
Mentally adding that to my to-do list under cleaning out my purse, I smile as Reggie continues to talk before giving us a tour of the school and showing us to our respective classrooms. Calvin is slotted to replace the beloved art teacher and waves as he ducks inside his room, leaving Reggie and me in the hall.
“Your resume is very impressive, Ellison,” she says as we pause in front of another room. “I realize you grew up here, but this is going to be very different from what you’re used to.”
“I’m looking forward to the change. Working in Savannah, while rewarding, stifled a lot of the creativity I’d hoped to bring to my students,” I say honestly. “I feel like this is exactly where I need to be at this point in my career.”
Her smile is understanding and warm as she motions to the doorway in front of us. “Then by all means.”
My heels click on the tile as I cross the threshold, and I’m struck by the brightness in the room. The white walls are covered with colorful posters, tiny desks and chairs are organized neatly, and bookshelves cover the entire wall under the windows.
“Please let us know if there’s anything you need. Our budget isn’t huge, but we have a little set aside to get you and your students settled for the start of the year.”
Thanking her, I smile as she excuses herself back to her office, leaving me to hunt my way around the room.
I love it.
And it’s amazing how comfortable I already feel in here, personal touches aside. This space is exactly what a kindergarten room should be. In Savannah, the day was regimented and not in a casual keep the kids on task way but in the way that forces kids to grow up far quicker than they deserve.
“Please tell me you’re ready to get a drink,” Calvin says from behind me with a pointed look. I’m surprised to see how much time has passed when I glance at the clock on the wall.
“If you insist,” I say, surprising myself.
“I do, and you can call me Cal. I always get nervous and introduce myself as Calvin, but literally no one calls me that.”
I laugh as we walk down the hall and out into the parking lot. “Where do you want to go, Cal not Calvin?”
“Cute,” he says drawing out the words and making it clear he does not think my teasing is cute. “How about Boots on Bar and Grill? I’ll drive—I’m still getting used to this town.” He narrows his eyes. “Which one are you dating again? I really don’t feel like fighting off a boyfriend today.”
I laugh as I follow him to a silver Prius. “This tracks,” I say, nodding toward the car.
“I’d be mad if it wasn’t true.”
Climbing in, I click my seatbelt into place before answering his question. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say but that doesn’t totally feel right, “but Montana Greene is my best friend and we’re…”
“Involved?” he offers with a smirk.
“Yeah, I mean, we’re not not involved but there’s no label,” I say lifting my shoulder and letting it drop. We’d kind of brushed over that the other night. “I’m honestly not sure what we’re doing.”
“I bet it’s fun whatever it is. That man is climbable.”
I snort but still feel my cheeks heat because he’s not wrong. Montana is everything I’ve ever wanted, and now that we’ve started something, I’m keenly aware of what’s at stake. “What about you?”
“Currently unattached and looking to decompress after my last job. My sister Hannah is married to Case Thayer and they’re settling down—and it felt like it was time to do the same and?—”
I gasp, the back of my hand making contact with his bicep. “No way! She’s the one who owns that cute little bookstore in Clementine Creek, right?”
“Ow,” he whines, rubbing a palm over his arm while keeping the other hand on the wheel. “I thought people were supposed to be nicer in the south.”
“That’s a common misconception,” I say with a sly grin, mostly to cover the surprise I’m feeling at being so comfortable with someone I just met.
It’s…unsettling.
And nice.
“Apparently.”
Pulling into the parking lot of Boots On Bar and Grill, Cal turns off the ignition and we both get out of the car and head up the walkway. He holds the door, and I thank him before grabbing a high top off to the side. It’s still early, and we have the place mostly to ourselves.
Jude Rhodes is behind the bar, and I give him a small wave which he returns even though I’m not entirely sure he remembers me. Not sure it matters.
Everyone who walks in is a neighbor and friend, and Mr. Rhodes always makes you feel right at home. He has run this place for as long as I’ve been alive, with Jude and his brother popping in from time to time to work busing tables or filling orders in the kitchen.
Mr. Rhodes would stop by our table to shake my father’s hand and ask how the food was, catching up on a whole lot of nothing during the times we could sneak away. Besides being with Montana, being here was some of the happiest times of my childhood.
Cal looks around like he’s never seen anything like it and maybe he hasn’t. It’s not quite a dive bar but just barely. T-shirts folded and pinned in tight squares line the ceiling. It’d started out as kind of a game—Mr. Rhodes thought it would be fun to tell people if they brought shirts from other bars, he’d let them put them on the ceiling.
The rule was you had to have a good story and everyone in the place had to vote on its potential ceiling status. Once the ceiling was full, the same rule applied, but if your shirt was accepted you got to take your pick and swap with one already on the ceiling. It was the ultimate victory.
I’d been here a couple of time to witness the ritual with Dad. The energy of the bar and the animated cheering of the patrons has the corner of my lips curving up, even if the memory is bittersweet.
I order a mojito and Cal orders a beer before he squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. My heart immediately hurts for him because I recognize the move—I’ve done it countless times trying to push off a headache.
“Are you all right?” I ask as the waitress places our drinks on the table. We thank her, and I order the pretzel bites in hopes that some carbs will give my new friend the boost he needs.
“I’m” —his gaze meets mine and I raise a single eyebrow at the lie he’s about to tell— “tired.” Cal sighs and plays with the condensation on his glass. “Today was great, and I’m excited to be here.” He worries his bottom lip with his teeth and I wait. “It’s hard to adjust to everything being so normal.”
There’s a lot Cal isn’t saying, that much is obvious, but what he is saying hits me hard.
“On the plus side, we’re doing this together. I haven’t lived here in a long time, and my situation has definitely changed so—I get it. At least some of it. Did you follow your sister here?”
Nodding, he takes a sip from his drink before rolling his eyes. “My parents are free spirits, and Hannah and I grew up mostly on the road. We went all across the country and around the world looking for adventures. My parents couldn’t be tethered to one place for long—they still can’t. But that was hard on my sister and me. We craved stability disguised as the next big thing.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is. We grew up chasing the idea that we weren’t made for normal everyday constraints but the life of a wanderer…” he trails off and I wait for him to gather himself. “Our aunt and uncle own the bar in Clementine Creek, Tap and Table, and when Hannah came to help out she never left. Hell, she’s even married—never thought I’d see the day.”
“Clementine Creek will do that to you. Plus, I’ve heard the Thayers are great.”
He chuckles before sobering. “They are, but I wouldn’t be here without her.” Looking up at my confusion, he adds, “She made it possible to break the cycle—to set down roots. It was the right choice for her, and being here, I know it’s the right choice for me but it’s hard to slow down no matter how bad you want it.” Cal scrunches his nose and my lips twitch. “That makes me sound really entitled and whiny.”
“Can I ask where you were before this?”
His fingers absentmindedly play with the condensation on the glass again as he says, “I spent a few years working with an organization like Teachers Without Borders in refugee camps overseas. It was really rewarding and also incredibly challenging—sometimes terrifying.”
“I’m sure that’s an experience that stays with you…becomes a part of you.”
“I’m not sure I know how to stay in one place.”
“Do you want to?” At his hesitation I continue, “You’re allowed to feel what you feel and roots aren’t for everyone, but I think it might be too soon?”
“I don’t know how to be uncomfortable.”
I blink at him because I definitely cannot relate. I’m almost always uncomfortable regardless of whether or not I can hide it.
At my blank stare he adds, “Anytime I’ve ever gotten this feeling, I’ve just moved on. No ties meant I didn’t have to stay. But I want to be here with my sister—make up for lost time—I just don’t know how to get over this feeling.”
He rubs at his chest as I mull over what he said and take a chance. “What if you took a little vacation?”
“Seriously?”
“Why not? We still have a little bit before the school year starts and there’s plenty of places around here you could go to for a couple days.” Swallowing hard, I give him a little more of my own truth. “I think we’re both trying too hard to live up to the idea of it right now instead of accepting that change takes time.”
“Wow,” he says a little breathlessly, and I know it’s at least partially for effect because his expression is amused, “you’re really smart.”
I stick my tongue out at him and he chuckles.
“What? I’m not great with the friend thing, but I have good ideas sometimes.”
Tilting his head to the side, he stares at me. “You’re not great at the friend thing? You seem pretty great to me, although I might not be the resident expert on long-lasting relationships.”
Now it’s my turn to deflect, choosing to study the mint leaves in my drink for a minute longer before finally saying, “I grew up here but we never fit here. My parents are pretty influential in certain circles. I learned at a young age what it meant to attend functions and events to keep up appearances instead of working the land and being a part of the community.”
“I hate that for you.”
I shrug. “It was a long time ago.” I pause, frowning. “I mean I guess not that long ago. I moved to Savannah, Georgia, for school after I left here. My parents were going to travel and then move closer to Nashville, but a few months after I left they bought a house not far from my campus, and I retreated into myself like I was still under their thumb. I’d moved to a different state and I still couldn’t get away from them.”
“What happened after you graduated?”
“I took a job teaching at a private school in the city. My mother had a hand in that too,” I say bitterly, “but when Montana’s grandmother passed away a few years ago, I came back for the funeral. No matter the time and distance between us, it wasn’t something I could miss.” He nods, but I get the impression he has no idea how to process that kind of connection. “Montana and I rekindled our friendship, and I waited out my contract before moving here for good.”
“Why didn’t you do the long-distance thing? People do that all the time, right?”
It was a loaded question if I’d ever heard one, and I shove a pretzel bite in my mouth to buy me a minute of reprieve. It’s delicious, the texture perfect, and complements the tang of the honey mustard I dunked it in.
“Being away from Montana was complicated. We still have a lot of things we need to work out. We would never have been good at being apart, and it was easier for me to keep the distance—physical and emotional—for the duration of my contract. We used that time to rebuild our friendship.” I leave out the other complication because it’s not worth muddying the waters.
“Have you told him any of this?”
“Some of it. But I—we—just dove into things like we hadn’t been apart for a long time. We jumped ahead ten spaces, and now we’re reeling with how to make new us be old us while adding adult problems and intimacy.”
Cal lets out a low whistle before chuckling as I take a massive gulp of my drink.
“I feel like this is heavy for a trial friendship outing.”
Snorting, Cal throws a balled-up napkin at me. “You should have thought about that before you went and invited me for drinks. I’m a done deal.”
I narrow my eyes. “You invited me.”
He waves his hand in a flourish. “Semantics.” His smile widens and so does mine.
“So, what about you?” I ask, leaning forward and batting my lashes. “Dating? Attached? Need help swiping on some apps?”
“You truly are selfless,” he deadpans.
“It’s one of my best qualities.”
Shaking his head, Cal fiddles with a paracord bracelet on his wrist before meeting my gaze. There’s humor still in his, but it feels forced now.
“Uh, not dating or attached and probably focusing on me for a while.” He rolls his eyes like that is truly a hardship—but he’s not wrong. Self-reflection can be a bitch. “My sister already tried to play matchmaker with me and this guy, Tanner. Have you met him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He’s a transplant. Was married to one of the Thayer wives and now co-owns Vetted Paws with the scary guy.”
“Hank?” I ask, trying to sort through the brothers in my head.
“No, I met Hank—I think his wife is scarier honestly.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Sure,” he drawls. “No, this guy married the sister—Rhea, maybe? Starts with a “S” I think.”
“Oh, Sorren! I remember him being super hot but not scary,” I say because even though I didn’t interact much with them, that whole group was well known even in Blackstone Falls.
“Definitely scary,” he confirms, and I roll my eyes at his dramatics.
“So, what happened with Tanner?”
“He’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not ready to date anyone and honestly neither am I. He’s gotta work through his own stuff, and God knows I have enough anxiety for everyone, so we’re probably doing our friends and family a favor on this one.”
My heart hurts for my new friend.
“You’re allowed to be happy and adjusting. You’re allowed to be all the things.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge, causing me to scoff. “We’re talking about you not me.”
“Hmm…”
Pointing a pretzel bite at him, I narrow my eyes. “I’m serious.”
“Me too.” He finishes his beer and places the empty glass on the table. “Besides, I’m devoting all my energy to this relationship,”—he motions between us and I snort—“so I can’t possibly take on anything else right now.”
“I am a lot of work.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears, sweetheart.”
We only last a second longer before we dissolve into giggles. Moving back here has been so much more than I could have imagined. Without the constant weight and expectation of my parents, it’s like I’m finally able to breathe.
If I put myself out there, the only person they have to judge is me.
I’ve never had that before.
Tears cloud my vision at the realization. Cal’s hand covers mine and he squeezes it. He doesn’t ask, and I get the feeling he doesn’t need to because he can feel it. He knows what this is without me having to say a word.
I hate this for us.
But maybe, together, we can finally show the world the people we were always meant to be. It’s cheesy but I don’t care. I won’t live in the shadows of my past because the future is bright and beautiful and I fucking deserve to be happy.
We both do.
Clearing my throat, I motion to the menu. “Do you want food? I think this day calls for food, and I have to send my dad a picture of a burger anyway.”
“That’s not weird at all.”
“It’s a long story,” I say with a wry smile as he snatches his menu up and looks at me over the laminated edge.
“Lucky for me, we’ve got time.”