24. Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
A fter having the greatest time with Amaya, I drive home to Brooklyn on New Year’s Day. As sad as I was to say goodbye to her, it wasn’t a secret how eager I was to get back to a certain someone.
Brooks and I have dinner at an Italian restaurant in Center Square, catching each other up on the remainders of our winter breaks. He has to go back to work tomorrow for two professional days prior to students returning for second semester. Thankfully, the bruise on his jaw has faded completely. I would have felt really bad if he had to explain that to his colleagues, much less his students.
“Tell me about the master’s classes you’re taking this spring,” I say before taking a bite of a breadstick.
“I have two classes again this semester. One focused on ethics and one about leadership in curriculum. Not quite as interesting as the community relations class, but still important topics I need to know about,” Brooks answers. “The ethics class is virtual, but the curriculum class meets in person on Monday nights. Will your schedule stay the same for the Bible studies you lead?”
“Mostly. Except Rachel is taking over the Friday morning group this semester,” I reply.
“Which means you can get a little more beauty sleep, Aurora.” Brooks winks.
“It’s not my fault I was born to sleep in. Some genetics can’t be altered,” I tease back. “I’ll miss being with those girls, but I’m glad that Rachel feels like she has the capacity to meet with them again.” I push pasta around my plate, dropping my eyes. “I did a lot of writing in the guided journal you gave me. It’s helped me dream more concretely about teaching.”
My eyes flit back up in time to see Brooks pause mid-chew. “Yeah? You’re thinking more seriously about teaching?” He can’t hide the spark of hope in his eyes, and I can’t stop the increased temperature of my heart in response to that spark.
I bite my lip and twirl a finger through my hair. “I wouldn’t say I’ve made an official decision, but the journal has been really helpful to get my thoughts organized. And I can’t stop thinking about it. Imagining myself in a classroom with small groups of kids, teaching them multiplication strategies or reading comprehension foundations. And it makes me feel . . . calm when I’m picturing it. Calm but eager at the same time. That has to mean something, right?”
Brooks’ intent gaze breaks into a droll smile. “I’ll throw a dose of reality at you—there’s practically nothing about education that could be described as ‘calm.’ It might be the dictionary antonym of ‘calm.’”
I laugh in response, and Brooks props his chin in one hand on the table. He slides his other hand across the tabletop, reaching for mine. I happily meet his request, lacing my fingers with his.
“All jokes aside, I do think that any student needing a little extra help and attention would hit the jackpot to wind up in your class. And the fact that you feel drawn to it could certainly mean something. But that’s ultimately up to you to discern,” Brooks says. “I’m not an unbiased advisor.”
His thumb gently traces mine, lulling me into a hypnotic state.
“Need any to-go boxes over here?” Our waiter’s voice jolts me to full consciousness again.
“Yes, please,” Brooks and I respond at the same time. He hands his credit card over to the waiter in exchange for the boxes. We’re silent as we scrape leftovers off of our plates, and the waiter brings back the receipt for Brooks to sign.
“Now that the table is clear, I have a not-Christmas gift for you,” I proclaim with smug excitement. Brooks tries to tell me I didn’t need to get him a gift, but I can see the eager anticipation in his eyes .
I slide the thin box across the table, and he quickly unwraps it. Pulling out the desk plaque inside, he reads out loud, “Principal Murphy.” His eyes are both soft and dancing when he looks up at me.
“Teegan, this is perfect. I don’t know when I’ll get to use it for real, but you better believe I’m going to display it on my dresser for now,” Brooks says, voice warm.
“I believe in you. You’re going to make an amazing administrator someday,” I respond. “But that’s not all. I got this specially made on Etsy.” I slide the Principal Murphy plaque out of the holder and pull the additional options out of my purse, which I hand over to him.
His smile grows as he reads them. “Dean of Student Fun, Chancellor of Chaos, and Headmaster of Hijinks. Teeg, this is too good. Now it’s really perfect,” he says with a laugh.
“I figure you can decide which vibe fits the day,” I tell him with a grin of my own.
As we exit the restaurant, Brooks is quick to pull my hand into his. We stroll slowly toward the parking lot, neither of us eager to part ways.
Brooks clears his throat. “Hey, I’ve been thinking about something. We’re going to see each other at small group next week—well, every week actually. And I’ve been wondering when we might want to tell the group that we’re dating?”
I look over at Brooks, his hair golden under the street lamp, profile striking in the half darkness. It’s too dark to see his eyes clearly, but I have his particular shade of blue memorized.
“Right now!” I say, pulling out my phone.
“Right now?” Brooks repeats.
“Yes! Act like you like me for a selfie,” I tease, pulling him to me.
“Zero acting required,” he says. I catch a photo of him softly smiling at me before he turns to face the camera. That will be my little treasure.
Brooks squishes his face against mine, and we both give cheesy grins to the screen. He hovers over my shoulder as I pull up our small group chat to send the photo. The cheesy smiles don’t even look cheesy—we just look elated.