Chapter Twenty-Five
I walk into my office and close the door with my back before leaning against it and taking a deep breath. While all the teachers are coming back to prepare for the students’ return in the new school year, I’m packing up my office to leave.
With the school year fast approaching, I hated to leave without giving enough notice and time to find someone else to step up, but now that I know in my heart what I want to do, I can’t stay. In the immortal words of Cookie from Empire , I gotta put me first.
Someone knocks at my door, sending vibrations through my back. I quickly move away from the door and to my desk so I won’t get hit. “Come in,” I call.
The door opens to reveal Angie. She’s got a manila folder trapped between her arm and chest, a slice of pizza in one hand, and a wide smile stretched across her face. “Guess whose new chair came in today? I’ll give you a hint—mine!”
I smile as I lean against my desk.
“I’m going to assume you were the one to approve it.”
I shrug. “I heard there was a boost to the budget and some extra funds that needed to be allocated somewhere.”
I’m leaving, but I couldn’t help but check and see what the school budget was going to look like for the new year. Once I saw that Principal Major had vastly overstated how much the new football field would be, I made the executive decision that the teachers deserved a real treat. I felt a little like Oprah as I placed the order. You get a chair! And you get a chair! For all they do for the students, it’s the least they deserve. Chairs, and I’ve scheduled for pizzas from Big Lou’s to be delivered to the staff all week as they move back into their classrooms.
“Thank you, Brianna,” Angie says, her words heartfelt. “And I really am going to miss you. It was great working with you last year and at the Hab.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
When I arrived at the school, I worried that I’d be shunned after I sabotaged Roman to get him out of the Hab. But that hasn’t been the case. Every teacher I’ve come across has greeted me with a wide smile and open arms, congratulating me on a job well done. It’s the most welcoming they’ve ever been to me, which makes my leaving all the more bittersweet.
When Simone heard I was leaving, I immediately handed her my phone so she could plug her number in, then she added me across every social media platform while we were standing there and making plans to meet for coffee. I was and am touched beyond words to be leaving this season in my life with at least a friend, if not love.
And throughout all the congratulations and well wishes in my next endeavor, no one has said a thing about Roman. Not one teacher has mentioned how close we seemed, the kiss we shared on camera, or how I locked him out of the hatch. If I weren’t there, I might wonder if it actually happened. But the Roman-sized hole in my heart proves that yes, it did. It’s more likely the teachers all agreed to not talk about him in advance. I both appreciate and lament their consideration. I haven’t seen Roman since coming back to wrap everything up, and I’m dying to know what he’s up to and how he’s doing. Does he still care about me, or did he consider everything we shared in the Hab a wash after he left?
I clear my throat, focusing back on Angie and trying to take my mind off Roman. “I’ll miss you too. Maybe we can meet up for coffee sometime.”
“Coffee sounds good. Or a book club. I think you and Simone will absolutely love the first book I have in mind.”
“More growling men?” I ask.
“No. In this one, he hates everyone but her.” Angie wiggles her brows. “Sounds good, right? I’ll call you so we can set it up!” And with that, she turns and struts away.
I smile to myself. If she doesn’t call me, then I’m calling her. That book sounds delightful.
“Knock knock,” I hear a deep voice say, and stiffen.
I turn around to find Principal Major in the doorway. I have to immediately tamp down my anger and resentment and the urge I’ve had all week to yell at him. To call him a black hole who not only ruined the chance of happiness I had with Roman but also sucks all the joy out of the school and teachers. But again, I know I would start crying, and he’s just not worth it.
“Principal Major,” I say.
“Miss Rogers. I wanted to make sure you have everything or see if there was anything you needed.”
“Coming to make sure I’m actually packing up to get out of here, you mean?” I won’t cuss him out, but I also won’t act like he hasn’t been a thorn in my side. We are not parting ways like besties. “Don’t worry, I’m good.”
He nods, probably satisfied that there are no pretenses between us. He looks around my office like he’s seeing it for the first time. Now that I think about it, he never actually came here during the whole school year. He just assigned me a place to park and summoned me to him when it was necessary for us to talk in person.
“There’s not much space in here, is there?” he comments. He’s not even inside fully, and for that I’m thankful. This space isn’t big enough for all my boxes and his insufferable presence.
As he continues looking around—at what, I’m not sure since there’s only so much one can see when peering into a shoebox—I can’t help but notice that he looks a little…ashamed? And what is this feeling trying to get into me now…the stirrings of forgiveness?
After all, I won’t have to deal with him any longer after this. I feel sorry that he’s so stuck in his old ways. It’s not that he’s a bad principal. At least, he’s not the worst. He does want the school and the kids to succeed. And I know he was dragged upside down and inside out after Roman listened to his message in the simulation congratulating Roman for doing a good job at gaining my trust. However, since he never outright said the word sabotage , I can only guess that’s how he managed not to get fired. Camille couldn’t believe even her strongly worded letter didn’t do the job.
I can only hope he does better for the next vice principal. Whether it be Roman or someone else.
“I’m all good here,” I say. “I’ll have the rest of these boxes out by the end of the day.”
Principal Major nods. For a second I contemplate asking about Roman. If anyone knows what he’s up to, surely it would be his father. But as quickly as the urge pops up, it’s gone. Principal Major and I will never have the kind of relationship where I can ask after his son. Maybe if this were an alternate reality or if we were able to show each other grace instead of battling to press our will on the other.
Once Principal Major leaves, I start moving boxes from my office to my car. I don’t have many since there was only so much I could add in there without cluttering it up. The last thing I grab is my painting. I still have yet to pick up a pencil and some paper. I felt inspired while in the Hab, but now I realize that inspiration was in large part due to Roman. How can I even think of trying to draw, knowing memories of our dinner-and-drawing date would likely assault me if I tried?
I suck in a deep breath. When will I ever be able to stop thinking about him? That’s a pointless question. Never. That’s the answer. I’ll never stop thinking about him. And I’ll forever mourn that we didn’t have a real shot at a love out here in the real world.
When I close my eyes, I’ll forever hear his voice saying my name, the way he said it when he thought I was being silly or when we were lying in bed and he held me with so much tenderness and love.
“Brianna.”
Great. Not only do I hear it when my eyes are closed, I apparently hear it when I’m out and about trying to live a normal life too.
“Brianna.”
I gasp and stop. I’m not hearing things. I turn around, and there he is. Facing me as he stands in the middle of the parking lot.
Roman is here. After seeing him in nothing but the jumpsuit for six straight weeks, he looks like a new man in fitted jeans and a dark gray polo with actual short sleeves. The colors he wears are muted compared to the yellow compact and blue SUV near us and the sun in the sky, but I can’t think of a more beautiful sight my eyes have seen.
We stare at each other for what feels like eons. Roman’s eyes rake over me, but I don’t take my gaze off his face in case he disappears. He’s freshly groomed. Goatee trimmed, perfect edge-up and waves. If I hadn’t gotten used to looking in those beautiful brown eyes every day over the course of five weeks, I might have believed he was the same unaffected and aloof teacher waiting for me to stop talking to him.
But I did spend those weeks with him. Studying him like it was my life’s greatest work, so I know there is nothing aloof in the way he’s looking at me. He’s nervous. It takes everything in me not to throw myself at him, but I don’t know where we stand. For all I know, he could be here to yell at me because of how things ended at the Hab. To clear the air and get everything off his chest now, while he has the chance, before I leave the school for good.
I blink, breaking the spell Roman had on me, and take in a gulp of air. “What are you doing here?” I bite my bottom lip. What a dumb question. He’s obviously here to get ready for school. “I mean, I haven’t seen you all week. I’m surprised to see you now. Not that I think you’ve been slacking or anything,” I rush to add. “I know that being prepared is important to you and all.” I squeeze the frame of the picture until the pain of it digging into my hands is finally enough to get me to stop talking. “You know what,” I say once I compose myself, “ignore everything. What are you doing here?”
Roman’s eyes soften, and for a second it looks like he might smile. But he sobers again and takes a deep breath. “I heard that you decided to resign. I wanted to get it from the source this time to make sure it’s true.”
“Oh.” I hope the disappointment isn’t evident in my tone. “Yeah. This time it’s true. I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think this is what’s best for me. On the plus side, there’s an open position for vice principal if you know anyone capable of fulfilling the role. If I know my former principal, he’s already got someone in mind.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m starting a foundation to help spread literacy and provide books for school-aged children.” Each time I say it, a thrill runs through me as something in me shouts, Yes! This is the right path .
Roman nods. “I think you’ll do phenomenally, Bri. I really do.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
As we stand in another round of awkward silence, a weight begins to press on my chest. It’s so hard to stand in front of him and have all these memories of good times we shared ruined by our last days together. For probably the hundredth time, I want to go yell at Principal Major.
This time Roman is the one to break eye contact as his gaze shifts away from me and he blinks. He clears his throat. “I, um, wanted to give you something.”
He takes a few steps forward, closing the distance between us, and my stomach does a flip-flop at his nearness. He’s not close enough for me to touch, but I can smell his fresh cologne.
He hands me a notebook I recognize.
“Is this your journal?” I look at the orange notebook in my hand.
“I know that it was messed up how everything went down and that this won’t absolve me of anything, but, well, I guess I’m hoping…Damn, I don’t know what I’m hoping for. But I want you to have this. Is that okay?”
He looks so lost that I’m at a loss for words and all I can do is nod.
“Okay. Good.” Roman nods once and takes a step back, away from me. Finally, he turns around, and I see him head inside the school.
I go to my car. Instead of driving away after starting the engine, I look at the outside of Roman’s journal, weighing it in my hands. Even though curiosity ate at me for weeks, wondering what thoughts or secrets he was revealing in here, after kicking him out of the Hab I couldn’t bring myself to then intrude on his privacy. But now he’s given me explicit permission. The need for self-restraint is gone. Still in my seat with the AC blasting, I open the journal and start reading the entries.
By the time I’m done, my hands are shaking. Roman was telling the truth the whole time. He never planned on doing his dad’s bidding. He was really there because he believed in my vision. He believed in me. I look at his last entry, the one he wrote after I heard the message from his dad. While all the entries say something about me—seriously, every single entry mentions me in some capacity—the last one is for me.
Brianna,
I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about my dad’s plan. I know it might be too little too late and that tomorrow when you wake up in the morning, you might decide you don’t want to talk to me ever again. If that’s the case, it’s what I deserve. But I have all these thoughts running in my mind and need to get them out because you know what I’ve realized in five weeks? I’m still learning about myself.
That sounds weird, right? But it’s true. For example, my favorite color used to be black. Now it’s blue. Why blue? It’s just superior. If you don’t believe me, put your coveralls on and look in the mirror. Have you ever noticed how good the color looks on you? Or maybe it looks good because of you. Same thing, right? But there you have it. At my big age of thirty-three, I have a new favorite color.
You know what else I realized? Burgers aren’t my favorite food. Contrary to what you think, I do have taste buds. Remember when we ate that dehydrated vanilla pudding you hated? Swear to God it tasted like heaven to me. Of course, it could’ve been because I could still taste it on your lips when I kissed you that night. Either way, 10/10 would eat dehydrated pudding from your mouth again.
Now this I already knew, but I feel it needs to be said: I can build anything. I’m not bragging. It’s a fact. If you need me to prove it, I’ll build you a bookshelf—no—a whole damn library. I’ll fill it up with any kind of books you like. We’ll start with the whole series for that werewolf book you let me borrow. But for the record, fingers are 10x better than tentacles.
In case you haven’t realized it, all these changes are because of you. You make me want to be a better man. Because of you, I want to be a better man. Do you know how life-changing that is for a man like me? For that I want to say thank you. If I never get the chance or the courage to say it to your face, I also want you to know that you’re amazing and I have fallen so in love with you.
And now I know it’s not over for us. How can it be, when I help to bring out the best in him and he lets me just be me ? He’s my perfect match.
I turn off my engine and bolt out of my car.
I run inside, trying to decide which way Roman would have gone. I take a gamble and head toward the administration offices. I see him coming out of the office and into the hallway. He stops when he sees me.
I’m still clutching the journal. Breathless, I hold it up. “Did you mean everything you wrote in here?”
“Every single word,” he confirms without reservation.
I close my eyes as relief washes over me. I take in a deep breath and open my eyes. I straighten my shoulders, sure and confident in what I’m going to say next. “How about we start over? After we met, it seems like things got off on the wrong foot. Let’s do it right this time. All of it.”
Roman’s throat moves as he swallows and lets out a quiet “Okay.” He walks up to me and shoots the friendliest and most open smile my way. “Hello, I’m Roman. It’s nice to meet—”
Before he can finish, I do exactly what I wanted to the first time we met, a year ago. I stand on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck to bring him to my level, and smash my lips into his.
When we pull apart, I’m breathless, but my heart is so full. “You had me at hello,” I say against his lips before we kiss again.
“I’m so sorry about everything. But thankful you’re willing to give me a second chance. I swear I won’t let you down again,” he says.
“The only way you could let me down is if you started hiding who you are. You may think I bring out the best in you, but I’m only helping you see the man who is already there. The man I love.”
As we go in for another kiss, we hear clapping. Roman quickly swipes at his cheek and we look around to see that the people who were in the administration office are now peeking from the doorway and looking at us.
Angie is there. She clasps her hands together and tilts her head up to the ceiling. “Lord, I see what you’ve done for others. Please do it for me!”
Amen, girl.
I kiss Roman one more time before pulling away. “I think we’ve let them see enough of our lives. What do you say we take this somewhere away from prying eyes?” I say.
“You read my mind.”
Roman interlocks our hands and we walk out of the school together.