Meet Me After Class (Meet Me #1)

Chapter 1

Oliver

Iglare accusingly at the electric jug, willing it to boil faster. If I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late for the first day of the school year. Not a good look.

The jug finally clicks and I haphazardly pour the boiling water into the travel mug, add the milk and give it a quick stir. Once the lid is securely on—I learned the hard way on that one—I grab my keys and laptop bag and rush to the front door.

Cazaly follows at my heel, no doubt hoping for a morning walk. “Sorry bud, school holidays are over. Afternoon walk only.” His big brown eyes are full of disappointment.

He’s a black greyhound, and still a bit of a pup, but his suitability to apartment living made him a great choice. Greyhounds don't need a lot of exercise—he’s exhausted after thirty minutes. He’s also the sweetest boy.

“Rrrf,” he huffs accusingly.

“Give me a break, you know you sleep all day anyway.” I bend forward and kiss the top of his head. “Gotta run.”

Two minutes later, I’m on the road. If the traffic’s okay, I’ll make it.

Even though this is my second year teaching, I’m still nervous about the first day of the new school year.

Brighton College is a prestigious Christian private school, and some days I still can’t believe I secured a position there.

Even with the teacher shortage, applicants run into the hundreds, and they never hire more than one graduate a year.

Being a P.E. teacher wasn’t always my first choice for a career, but I genuinely like it. I enjoy being out with the kids, playing sport, teaching skills, and, even though I’m only twenty-three, it’s nice being a role model.

I pull into the car park at 7:45 AM, calmer now that I don’t have to rush. I drop my things in my office in the sports and science complex then walk across to the admin building. Stopping outside the teachers’ lounge, I quickly neaten my hair before entering with a smile.

The space is state of the art, with expensive lounges, designer tables and chairs, and a coffee machine you’d find in a cafe.

The white and slate grey theme is modern and sleek.

There’s a variety of free fruit and snacks laid out across the vast kitchen bench.

Several teachers are mingling, no doubt catching up on holiday gossip.

As I scan the room, I can’t help but wonder who the new graduate teacher will be.

My eyes land on Jennifer, the art teacher, making herself a cup of coffee, and my shoulders relax. She really helped me settle in and find my feet last year.

Jennifer ticks all the boxes, if you know what I mean. She’s intelligent, funny, beautiful and kind, yet I can’t quite bring myself to ask her out.

After my failed relationship with Audrey, I’ve developed cold feet when it comes to romance.

I’m wondering if it isn’t time I experienced something real.

And by real, I mean fall in love in a way that knocks me off my feet.

I want someone I think about when I fall asleep, someone I’m keen to spend every waking minute with.

It just didn’t feel that way with Audrey.

I sidle up beside Jennifer. “Hey Jen, how was your trip?”

Jennifer turns, flicking her long, chestnut hair over her shoulder.

Her smile reaches all the way to her warm brown eyes, and a faint blush dusts her high cheekbones.

“Hey Oliver, so good to see you.” She gives my bicep a quick squeeze.

“I had a great time. Spent my days either lying on the beach or visiting galleries. What about you? Did you end up travelling or stay at home?”

“I was a bit boring and just hung out at home.” I scrunch up my nose. “Are you looking forward to the new school year?”

“As long as the year tens don’t give me any attitude. The rest of them I’ve already got under the thumb.” Jennifer rests her hand on my forearm, her gaze shifting over my shoulder. “I guess that must be the new grad teacher.”

Turning, I follow her line of sight. My eyes land on a young man standing awkwardly in the centre of the large room. He has an abundance of curly blonde hair, a slim build, and is dressed in a navy suit that looks slightly too large for his frame.

“I suppose so,” I say with a nod.

“Look, I better run. I need to finish preparing for first period.” Jennifer walks backwards towards the door. “See you at lunch?”

“For sure. I hope your morning goes well.”

Once Jennifer turns, my eyes drift back to him. I vividly remember my first day at Brighton, so I head over to introduce myself. “Hey, I’m Oliver Turner.” I throw my hand forward in greeting.

“Hey.” His eyes briefly meet mine, then he tentatively shakes my hand.

“I’m one of the P.E. teachers, and, this year, I have the honour of coaching the senior footy team. You must be the new grad teacher.” My face flushes, and I groan internally. What the fuck was that? As if he cares about me coaching the footy team.

“Ah, yes, that would be me. It’s kinda overwhelming around here. A lot to take in. I’m Huxley.”

Huxley’s eyes finally make their way back up to mine and I’m stunned by their colour—a deep jade green framed by dark lashes. “Great to meet you, Huxley. That’s an unusual name. Don’t think I’ve ever met a Huxley before.”

He rolls his eyes, looking embarrassed. “My mum’s a bit of an intellectual. She named me after the writer.”

Literature was never one of my strengths, so I just nod stupidly and change the subject.

“Where’s your classroom? You probably want to get settled before you face the kids.

They can be rough on new teachers. Test the limits, push the boundaries and all that.

I’m sure you remember what it was like when you were in high school. ”

“Who could forget,” he mumbles. “I’m classroom three in the sports and science building. I thought I should check in here first. Try to be sociable.” Huxley smiles, but he looks stressed out.

I nod, smiling back, hoping to reassure him. Huxley seems kind of…um, sweet? Not a word I’d normally use to describe a guy, but in this case it fits. Either that or…adorable? Yeah, no that seems weird too.

“There’s not usually this many teachers in the lounge before school,” I say, looking around. “We’ve all got too much class prep to do. Actually, you and I are in the same building, just at opposite ends. Do you wanna walk across campus with me?”

I soon discover that Huxley is a fast walker, which is rather impressive since he can’t be more than five foot eight. I’m six foot three, and normally I have to slow down for people, due to my long stride. But not for Huxley.

“What’ll you be teaching?” I ask. We weave our way through a group of students before he replies.

“Science and maths. Science with the year sevens and eights and maths with the elevens and twelves. I didn’t think I’d have the pressure of teaching VCE my first year, but I guess leadership thinks I’m up for it.”

“I’m impressed. They wouldn’t have given you the position if they didn’t think you could handle it. You know how much they pride themselves on their ATAR scores here.”

Huxley glances nervously at me as we enter the sports and science building. “That’s what I’m worried about. I hardly slept last night.”

I pat Huxley on the back. “I was the graduate hire last year, and I felt the same way. But you’ll be fine. It’ll take a few weeks to settle in, but—”

“Morning, Mr. Turner.”

“Morning, David,” I reply to the eager-to-impress student before turning my attention back to Huxley. “Here we are.” I stop in front of room three and motion to the open door. “Home sweet home, Mr… Ah sorry, I didn’t catch your last name.”

“That was stupid of me. It’s Sinclair. And thanks for walking me over.”

“The pleasure was all mine. My office is down the other end of the building.” I point towards it.

“Once you pass the indoor swimming pool, it’s the second office on the left.

If you need anything, let me know. And my phone extension is 227.

If you call and I don’t answer, it redirects to my mobile.

” As I back away, I put on an encouraging smile because Huxley looks almost green with nerves. “Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” he says, stepping backwards into his classroom.

Jesus, this poor guy. I wince, knowing what little shits the students can be when they smell fear on a teacher. “How about I swing by and pick you up on my way to lunch? I’ll introduce you to all the teachers. Oh, and don’t forget, there’s a whole school assembly after morning recess.”

Huxley attempts to smile but it looks more like a wince. Yeah, it’s cute.

“That would be great. Thanks, Oliver.”

“Anytime.” I turn and head down the corridor, greeting students as I go. Since first period is student-free for me, I plan on organising the footy team tryouts that are scheduled for Friday.

But, once alone and settled at my desk, my mind keeps wandering back to Huxley. I can’t focus. It’s been a long time since I met someone and instantly felt like we were going to be friends. I’ve got that sensation like I already know him.

It was like that with my best mate, Koa, when we met in grade three. It was Koa’s first day at school, and the teacher asked me to be his friend for the day. We just instantly clicked, like he’d always been by my side.

A memory of a young Koa pops into my head, and I smile.

I miss him now that he’s living in New York, chasing his dream to dance with the American Ballet Company.

We’ll FaceTime tonight, something we do a few times a week, but it’s not the same as catching up in person.

He’s only been gone a month so I’m still adjusting; I guess I’ll get used to it.

I wonder how Huxley’s going with his first class and if the kids are treating him okay.

The urge to wander down the hall and sneak a peek almost has me out of my seat.

Almost. It’ll be nice to have a good mate here at work.

Jennifer is great, but there’s that underlying tension there, which has me holding back from spending time with her outside of school hours.

I wouldn’t want to ask her out and then decide she’s not the girl for me.

God, that would make work awkward as hell.

Opening my laptop, I finally get started on planning.