Chapter 36
Gracyn
D on’t mind me if I break out in a dance. I twirl around the bright classroom, adding the last finishing touches while I belt out, “Too legit, too legit to quit, hey heeyyy,” as MC Hammer plays in the background. If it hadn’t been for Charli’s help, I’d never have finished in time. But we did it. The classroom is perfect.
Posters of smiling cartoon animals line the walls, and the smell of fresh crayons lingers in the air. Charli helped me arrange the desks into a cute horseshoe with a bright blue reading rug in the middle, ready to welcome tiny feet.
It’s meet the teacher night. My first one ever, not counting when I was student teaching.
Sheryl, the seasoned teacher from next door, peeks her head in, her laughter cutting through my off-key singing. “I can promise you that high won’t last for long.”
I scoff, waving her off. “Hush. Don’t drown my sunshine.” I march over, grab her by the arms, and pull her into my impromptu dance party. “This is going to be an amazing year.”
“That’s what every newbie says. Two weeks. That’s how much time I give you before you come crying to me, saying the devil’s spawn is in your class.”
I roll my eyes and playfully nudge her toward the door. “This is an optimistic zone, and you, my friend, are being kicked out.”
She chuckles, waving her hand in mock defeat, disappearing to her room. Despite her grumpy exterior, she’s become my work wife, or maybe more like a grandma with warm hugs and a stern voice. She’s been my go-to for questions, advice, or just when I need to talk. It sucks she’s retiring at the end of the year.
I glance at my watch to see it’s almost go time. I switch the playlist to be more kid-friendly and wait. My heart skips when my first student bursts in. I almost let out a squeal, but I swallow it down, fighting to contain my excitement. She skips across the room, her eyes lighting up when she sees everything.
Yes! She loves it!
I blink back my happy tears and introduce myself to the incoming parents as they filter in. One by one, they greet me with warm smiles and comments about the classroom. Most make a note about me not being from here. What gave it away? The color in the room or my non-New-Yorker accent?
Just as I turn to organize the stack of papers parents have filled out, a small hand taps me on my arm and says, “Hi, I’m Jett.”
I smile and lean down to meet his gaze. “I love that na?—“
“Gracyn?”
My heart lurches in my chest as I raise my head to the woman’s voice. I’ve lived here almost a month, managing not to bump into Brooks. I knew his daughter didn’t go to this school, so I wasn’t concerned about that. Instead, his sister stands tall, staring at me with a mixture of surprise and confusion.
Awkwardly, I raise a hand and wave with a lopsided grin. “Hi.”
“You are not Ms. Jenkins,” she says as a matter-of-fact.
Definitely not. She was the teacher who was supposed to teach this class but quit this week, and they moved me here instead of to a second-grade class. They told me an email was sent to parents.
She shakes her head, still processing the situation. “Wow. You live here now?”
I nod, opening my mouth to explain, but a kid darts between us and asks, “Can I have my assigned seat on the beanbag?”
“It’s the reading corner. So, if you’d like to read all day, we can discuss it.”
His eyes widen to saucers, his expression comical as he overemphasizes, “I can’t read that much,” before turning on his heels and running away.
I shift my focus back to Addison.
“Mom, you know my teacher?” Jett says, standing next to her hip, his eyes curious.
She looks down at him, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I do.” She meets my eyes with a raised brow. “Does Brooks know you’re here?”
“You know my uncle, too?”
Oh. This is so awkward. Glancing down at Jett, I give him a soft smile and instruct him to go find his seat and write his name on the construction paper that’s waiting for him. He nods and scampers off.
I wring my fingers in front of me. “He doesn’t. Please don’t tell him.” How do I explain that I’m not ready for him to reject me and then still be okay with living here? I’m not there yet. “I will eventually. I have to find myself here before I can think about Brooks.”
Woman to woman, I see in her expression she understands. “I can appreciate that.” She pulls her phone out of her crossbody bag, handing it over to me. “Here. Text yourself, so I have your number. I hate thinking you’re here by yourself.”
While I text myself, I say, “My best friend moved out here with me, but thank you for thinking of me.”
“Well, call me, anyway. I’ll take you two to the best brunch in town. I’m all for leaving the kids with Aiden to remind him he wanted ten of them.” She laughs, slipping her phone back into her bag, before scanning the room for Jett. She calls out for him, and he rolls his eyes in response, already huddled in a group of boys. “That didn’t take long,” she jokes.
* * *
By the end of my first day, my feet are sore, and my voice is raw. I’m already excited about tomorrow. As I tidy up the room, I can’t help but laugh, remembering what Jordan told all his friends at lunch, right before popping a Twinkie in his mouth.
“ Eat dessert first. You never know when the world is going to end .”
He got a round of applause, even from me, despite the morbid ending. The other teachers, however, didn’t find it as amusing as they hurried over and shushed everyone, throwing me a disapproving glare. I didn’t care. They’re seven. They need a chance to laugh and goof off. The things that come out of these kids’ mouths are hilarious.
An idea to journal all the priceless comments they say has me searching my bag for a notebook. I title it Chalkboard Chronicles and jot a couple funny quotes from today and toss it back in the bag before heading home.
Ten blocks to the apartment. Ten blocks too many. Rounding up twenty-two six-year-olds feels like I just did eight hours of cardio. Thankfully, the subway is located across the street. It’s one of the coolest concepts in the city. It comes with daily entertainment and a few questionable people, but I love it. It’s weird, though, to realize I haven’t driven in over a month.
“How were the rugrats?” Charli asks as soon as I walk through the door. She’s not a fan of kids, and I’m not even sure she wants them. Which is fine, but we couldn’t be any more different in that regard.
“Exhausting,” I croak, dropping my bags. My vocal cords are shot. “But they are so eager to learn. They’re like little sponges right now, desperate to know how the world works. I love it!”
I collapse onto the couch, kicking my flats off and propping my feet up on the ottoman. I wiggle my toes. Why did I think standing in those for eight hours was a good idea? It’s no wonder a lot of teachers wear tennis shoes.
My phone dings from my bag that I dropped on the kitchen table. I stare at it. Why did I drop it way over there? My legs feel like Jell-O. I give Charli my best puppy dog look. “Any way you can grab that for me?”
“You need to run with me to build your endurance,” she says, picking up my bag, then dropping it next to me.
She’s talking to the wrong person. I don’t run. Not unless it’s away from something terrifying like clowns, fire, or freaking geese.
“Don’t you remember the last time you tried to convince me to run?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “We both got bit in the ass by two mean geese.”
She laughs, tossing herself into the chair across from me. “Oh yeah! And you had the nerve to tell me I wasn’t running fast enough.”
“Because you weren’t! If I was going to be chased down by psycho birds, you better believe I was running like Usain Bolt.”
She shakes her head, laughing harder, and I grab my phone, grinning at the memory. That feathered asshole left a bruise and a forever fear of geese. After reading the text, I send a quick reply and glance up at Charli with an irresistible smile. This is a bad idea. A terrible idea, especially since I’m trying to stay off Brooks’s radar for as long as humanly possible.
But…
“We’re going to brunch with Addison and Sydney next Saturday.”
Charli’s eyes widen, and she leaps to her feet, her water bottle flying out of her hand and rolling across the floor. “Sydney as in Sky Owen ?”
“The one and only.”
“Oh my god!” she squeals. “We need to go shopping. We need to have our nails done. My highlights need a refresh.” She freezes mid-panic. “Saturday? There’s not enough time to get ready. I need more time!”
I snort as she spirals further, grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it at her. “Calm down, fangirl. She’s just a person.”
She catches it, glaring at me. “ You’re just a person. Sky Owen is a goddess. A mythical creature sent to bless us with her heavenly vocal cords.” She drops back down on the chair, lifting a brow. “And let’s not forget how excited you were when you first met her.”
She’s not wrong. I had to restrain myself from screaming when Addison introduced me. But the circumstances were different. I had a chance to meet her— the real her —the woman behind the spotlight. She’s shockingly down-to-earth and one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.
But being around her, comes fanfare, cameras, and a lot of attention.
“Shit. What if this isn’t a good idea?” I mumble, second-guessing saying yes.
Charli throws the pillow back at me. “No. No. NO! You can NOT take this back from me. You should’ve decided that ten minutes ago before you told me!”
“But what if?—”
She rushes over to me and tackles me, making me giggle. “I will buy you a wig, dammit. But we are going,” she declares, pinning me down with a playful glare.
“A wig? Really?”
“Yes, a wig. And sunglasses. Whatever it takes,” she says, grinning ear to ear. “But nothing . Nothing is stopping us from having brunch with Sky freaking Owen.”
“Fine.” I snicker. “If my life blows up, it’ll be all your fault.”
“Totally worth meeting Sky,” she teases.