Chapter 31
31
DAISY
“See ya, Ms. Mitchell!”
“Bye!”
“Have a good afternoon, guys. See you tomorrow!” I reply, waving at the cluster of second graders as they speed off down the halls, backpacks flopping against their backs.
A few still linger at their cubbies, but they’ve stopped paying much attention to those around them, myself included. After a long day, I’m just as ready to get out of here as they are.
Heading back into my classroom, I smile softly. This job is tiring and stressful, but it’s also incredibly fulfilling. I remember being in elementary and middle school and hating every single day of it. Until the eleventh grade, I had no idea that I wanted to become a teacher.
It was a sudden desire that sideswiped me and the goals and dreams I thought I had. I swerved off the path I had previously been set on, and on a day like today, I’m really grateful for that hit.
My book bag is already on my desk when I begin filling it with my scattered papers and laptop. For the last three days, I’ve been buzzing by the end of every school day, antsy to get finished so I can see Bryce.
Ever since our conversation and . . . actions in my old bedroom, things have been different in the best way. Neither of us seem interested in going back to how things were before. We’ve been spending every moment we can together, just taking the time to enjoy the pace we’re moving. It’s slow but steady.
My hunt for a new place is non-existent. I gave up browsing after the first week of me staying at Bryce’s place, and starting to look again now feels wrong. If I find one, what would be my excuse to stay? We might have made some progress in the romance department, but I don’t think Bryce is the type of person to move that quickly.
Living together now is different. It wasn’t a decision that stemmed from a previous relationship. Risking changing anything now when we’re still on such fragile ice and I’ve begun to get to know this woman on such a fundamental level isn’t a priority.
Slowly, I’ve started picking up on all of these new little habits and quirks she has that I hadn’t before. Like how she never leaves a dirty dish in the sink, and if she finds one that I’ve forgotten about, she’s instantly squirting soap into it and washing it thoroughly before drying it and putting it away. Or the way she’s started to fill the fridge with all of the foods and beverages that I’ve mentioned loving at one time or another.
Half of the fridge is full of my favourite brand of boxed iced tea, and she’s even started adding the peach-flavoured kind because I said I wanted to try it once after seeing a commercial for it on TV. And even though I’ve never seen her eat stringed cheese, there’s an entire bulk-sized box of them in the bottom drawer. I take two every day to work.
My collection of throw blankets is now always rolled perfectly into a wicker basket in the corner of the living room, save for my favourite yellow one that’s found a permanent home draped over the back of the couch.
Bryce is a giver. She’s the kind of person who makes up for her blunt words and sometimes cold demeanour with thoughtful actions in a space she deems safe. But even considering her cold for one moment feels wrong after getting to know her these weeks.
She’s not cold. It may come off like that to some, but she’s just guarded. And with a family like hers, how can anyone blame her for that? I’ve enjoyed pushing past her boundaries and getting to see the parts of her not many get to.
There’s a knock on the door, and I turn from my desk to where Delaney is waiting. She’s looking very fall today with a burnt-orange, plaid T-shirt dress and brown boots. I flash her a grin and wave her inside.
“Are you heading out?” I ask, zipping up my bag.
“Just about. We haven’t had a chance to chat this week, so I just wanted to stop by before I left and ask if you were up to grabbing lunch together tomorrow? Unless you have plans, of course.”
“I’d love to, Della.”
She taps a hand to the brown bag draped over her shoulder. “Great. I’ll see you tomorrow, then . . .”
Her words trail off, something catching her eye from the hallway. Hope swells in my chest at who could be showing up here now.
The sight of Bryce passing by Delaney in the doorway has my world brightening. She fixes her dark stare on me and doesn’t remove it as she crosses the classroom. I’m grinning like a fool despite the warning in her eyes by the time she reaches me and hauls me into her arms, placing her lips on mine.
It’s the first kiss I’ve gotten since Sunday. Yet, it’s a completely different breed. This is more for Delaney than it is for either of us. Bryce is making a statement, and I’m completely weak in the knees by it. It’s an unnecessary claiming, but she doesn’t know that, and I’m not going to tell her. Not if by keeping quiet, she’ll keep her warm lips pressed to mine for a few moments longer, making sure I know that I’m as much hers and she is mine, with or without the labels .
Feeling a bit devilish, I let loose a soft ghost of a moan that I know she hears and maybe even feels when she sinks her teeth into my lip and bites down gently. My smile tugs at the hold she has on my lip.
She releases it and taps a finger beneath my chin. “Those noises are only for me.”
“I missed you today,” I tease, ignoring her comment.
Eyes fluttering open, I notice hers are already watching me, the fluorescent lights above us intensifying their blue.
“I missed you too.”
“Say hi to my friend, Frosty.”
She scowls. “I want to take you somewhere.”
“You can take me anywhere after you say hi.”
Delaney clears her throat behind me, and I giggle at the deeply etched scowl lines that appear on Bryce’s face.
While we break apart from the intimate hold, she refuses to let me out of her arms completely. As if I wanted the space in the first place.
“Hello, Delaney,” Bryce mutters, her hold on me tight enough that concern slips through the shine of bliss.
My friend stares at Bryce and offers her a weak smile. “Bryce.”
“Della was just inviting me to lunch tomorrow,” I put in.
Bryce’s fingers splay wide over my hip, and her thumb strokes the bare skin beneath my shirt. She keeps Delaney pinned beneath a distrusting stare. “What grade are you teaching?”
“Third.”
Bryce nods, relaxing a bit. Her attention falls on me, and I soak it up like a cat beneath summer sun rays. “Ready to go?”
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No.”
Pouting, I break free of her hold and reach for my book bag. She beats me there, hooking it over her shoulder and jutting her chin toward the door .
“Don’t pout. You’ll like where we’re going.”
“I’m sure I will,” I agree with a sigh.
Bryce shakes her head, the ghost of a smile toying at her lips.
The three of us step into the hall. It’s empty now, all of my students’ cubbies bare and lockers shut. I take Bryce’s hand in mine and settle between the two women.
Awkward silence falls when neither Bryce nor Della makes an effort to speak. To one another or to me. It’s obvious there’s something going on there, but I don’t think it’s directly between them. Her reaction to Darren the day we met has always left me unsettled, and now, maybe it makes sense after all.
“So, we’ll talk in the morning, Della?” I make the effort to speak when we exit the school.
Delaney breaks off from us and starts in the direction of her car. With a brief look over her shoulder, she says, “Yeah. Bye, Daisy. Nice to see you, Bryce.”
It’s an obvious lie, but I appreciate her at least trying to be cordial.
Bryce doesn’t reply, so I pinch the back of her hand. She jumps but catches my drift.
“Yeah, same.”
We watch Delaney get into her car and then start toward Bryce’s. As if she weren’t being thoughtful enough these past few days, she’s taken to driving me to and from work every morning. All it took was me complaining about parking once, and she had her mind made up.
I wait until we’re both buckling our seat belts and Bryce starts fiddling with the music on her phone before bringing up my suspicions regarding Delaney.
“Were Darren and Delaney ever involved?”
Bryce fumbles her phone, and it falls between her booted feet. “What?”
I watch her lean down to pick up the phone with my brow raised. Once she sets it in the cup holder, she stares across the console at me .
“That’s not a simple question, and the answer is even more complicated.”
“I don’t need to know everything, and I don’t expect you to tell me all the details. I’d just like to know if I should avoid mentioning him or you, for that matter. She looked uncomfortable around you, Bryce. Why?”
She stares out the windshield and pushes out a harsh breath. “They were together officially for four years, but it was actually much longer than that, stemming back to when they were just kids. She’s uncomfortable around me because I’m guilty by association.”
“Four years? Was this before Abbie?”
“Way before her. They were fourteen when Darren told the entire population of Cherry Peak that she was his future wife.”
I blink in surprise, sinking into my seat. “Yet he married someone else.”
“It’s more complicated than that, Sunshine. Before she left for school, they decided to take a pause. The plan they made was for both of them to focus on getting their degrees, and then they would get back together and live a perfect, white-picket-fence life. It was a stupid fucking plan, and we all told him that,” she explains, sounding stressed.
I reach across the car and smooth my hand down her thigh. “Okay, I get it. Don’t tell me anything else. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t wind up with my foot in my mouth.”
Dropping her head, she turns it to the side and focuses on me. “Darren would tell you the whole story if you asked.”
“It’s not my place. Maybe Delaney will tell me once I’ve proven myself to be a good friend. Until then, I’m good with what you’ve shared.”
“Thank you.”
I shrug a shoulder and pat her leg before reaching for her phone and snaking it. She doesn’t try to take it back, just watches as I try to open it only to find it locked.
“1031,” she says .
“Halloween?” It’s the same code as her front door.
She starts the car while I unlock her phone and open the music app. “I like Halloween.”
“Mm, because you’re a horror buff?”
“Paranormal buff. Not that fake horror shit.”
“So, you don’t like to watch scary movies? Not even like Friday the 13th or Halloween ?”
She backs the car out of the stall with an ease that I wish I could steal sometime and then pulls out of the parking lot.
“Those are fine. My problem is with the fake paranormal horror movies. I like the real stories, not the ones that are snapped into thin air with spirits in terrible makeup and fake nails scratching walls. It’s all very cliché.”
“So, you like ghost-chaser documentaries more than you do the paranormal films.”
“Yes. They claim to be based off of true stories, but it’s all been so glamorized by the time it hits the theatres.”
I nod along with her and find a song I recognize amongst the unfamiliar titles. It blasts through the speakers, and Bryce is quick to turn the volume down.
“You’ll go deaf early if you listen to music that loud, you know?” I poke at her.
She reaches over to turn it up one notch. “You sound like my grandmother.”
I jump at the new bit of information. “Are you close with her? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your extended family. Is it big?”
She chuckles. “You’re curious today.”
“I’m always curious. I just don’t like to overwhelm you with my questions,” I admit a bit sheepishly.
The phone in my hands grows heavier when I notice the playlist title on the left side of the screen. My Sunshine.
Unable to help myself, I open it up and find the same list of songs that were scrawled on a piece of notebook paper and slipped beneath my door last week .
My heart swells and aches, beating so fast I have to take five slow breaths to keep it from exploding.
I haven’t mentioned the playlist to Bryce because, truth be told, I didn’t want to only see it on a slip of paper. It’s supposed to be more than that, important. I want to listen to them together.
“My extended family lives mostly in Quebec. I’ve never been that close to them, and I don’t overly want to be. They’re stick-up-the-ass, judgmental rich people. As for the size, I have three uncles, a great-aunt, and three male cousins,” she says.
I snap my attention from the phone to her, hoping I’m not as red as I feel. “I’m sorry they’re like that.”
“Don’t be. I found another family here that’s everything they could never be. I’m content with that.”
“Sometimes found family can be everything a blood family never could,” I agree.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Speaking of.” She sets a hand on my thigh and pulls it flush to the console between us. “The place I’m taking you is owned by someone important to me.”
For the first time since we left the school, I look out the window and take in our surroundings. Crispy, orange trees and yellow fields surround either side of the single-lane highway. Cherry Peak waves goodbye in the side mirror.
“And it’s not in Cherry Peak?”
She smiles, letting her head rest against the back of the seat. “No. We’re going on a little bit of a drive, Sunshine.”