28 Dane
Dane
FOR SOMEONE WHO’S NEVER taught a class, much less a class to children, I think I’m doing well. Today, we did some more balance work, and they also learned how to hold the rubber axe and throw it at the special target that grips the axe’s edge so it will stay in place if they hit it.
Once we were done with that, I gave them a ten-minute break, and I think they were more excited about a bag of trail mix than they are about the course as a whole. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but I guess kids like snacks.
“Okay, for the last twenty minutes, you can go practice whatever obstacle you want.” They all cheer, but before they take off running, I stop them. “Only use the ones we’ve gone over so far.” There are a few groans, but they all run off in groups toward different stations.
It isn’t until I look to my side that I see Kas is still here, staring at a group that went to the axe throw.
The group includes her friend Moira, another girl, Sara, and one of the boys named Tyler.
Her usual happy expression is gone, and in its place is a sad one, one that looks so similar to how Lindsey’s was when I found her in the grocery store earlier.
My brow furrows, and my first thought is to see if Lindsey is here yet, but she’s not.
Most of the parents chose to leave today, leaving only a couple of them watching from the benches.
I step toward Kas, who’s sort of wandering aimlessly now, kicking at imaginary rocks in the grass.
She was fine when she got here, sassy and funny like she’s been the last couple of times we’ve interacted.
Obviously, something’s changed, and it looks like it has something to do with Tyler by the way she keeps looking over at him.
“You okay, Kasnado?”
She scrunches her nose. “Logger Dane, no.”
I chuckle, but the dumb nickname did the trick. She’s smiling a little now. “I’ll keep trying till you like one.”
She nods and looks away from me, her feet going back to kicking at the grass.
“You don’t want to go play on the course?”
She shrugs. “Been there, done that.”
God, this kid. The more I get to know both her and her mom, the more I see how much they are alike. “You haven’t done all of it.”
“You said we had to stick to the things we’ve done already.”
She’s got me there, so I gesture to her group of friends. “You were good at the axe throwing, but your stance needs a little work. Why don’t you go practice with your friends?”
She shrugs. “Nah.”
Alright, she’s not going to make this easy on me. “Then you’ll have to stay here and talk to me.”
She shrugs again. “You’re not so bad, Logger Dane.”
“Are you saying I’m Gucci?”
Kas giggles like she did at the diner, and I smile at the sound. “So embarrassing! Just say cool. That’s what old people say.”
“I’m not that old,” I retort.
“Your hair is silver.”
“I grayed early.”
Kas turns to me, her eyes squinting in the sunlight. I brought sunscreen for all the kids today, too, and made them all put on an extra layer even if their parents did. It makes me happy that her nose isn’t red today like it was last week.
“How old are you?” she asks.
“Thirty-eight.”
“You’re older than my dad, and he’s old, which means you’re super old.”
My laugh is tempered at the mention of her dad. I know Kas has one, obviously, and that Lindsey is no longer with him, but that’s most of what I know.
“When you’re my age,” I say, “you’ll realize it’s not that old.”
“That’s like a gazillion years from now, Logger Dane.”
I shake my head at her and cross my arms over my chest. A second later, Kas has gone back to looking at her friends. It takes a split second for the smile I put on her face to turn back into a frown.
My eyes follow hers, and I see she’s looking at Tyler once more. He’s holding hands with Sara as Moira throws one of the axes. Kas doesn’t look away from their hands, and a moment later, her eyes turn glassy with tears.
It doesn’t take a genius to see she’s feeling rejected, just like I made Lindsey feel. But in this case, Tyler has eyes for another girl, and I have no fucking clue how to make Kas feel better. How do you make kids feel better about their crush liking another person?
When I was a kid, my dad would’ve told me to get over it and stop being a pussy.
He was an asshole and didn’t care about my feelings.
My mom would’ve told me not to worry, that I was cute, and that there are plenty of other fish in the sea.
That wouldn’t have made me feel better, so I don’t think that’s the right thing to say to Kas.
“Logger Dane?”
Her voice is small, not like that of the brazen kid I’ve come to know. “Yeah?”
“Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend?”
Her question surprises me, and what surprises me more is that I almost say yes.
I think about what Lindsey and I are, what I told her in the bathroom earlier.
We have a lot to talk about, but after thinking nonstop and seeing her today, I know, despite my earlier reservations, what I want with her.
And it’s more than just a virtual relationship that includes sexual scenes over a computer.
“It’s complicated,” I say to Kas.
“Adults always say things are complicated.”
My lips twitch. “Life can be complicated sometimes, Kasadilla.”
“That’s your worst nickname yet,” she groans playfully.
“Made you smile, though, didn’t it?”
She rolls her eyes then says, “Do you like them?”
“Like who?”
“The person it’s complicated with.”
“I do,” I answer easily, wondering how this turned into a conversation about me.
“If you like them, you should tell them.” Kas looks out at Tyler, and my heart breaks a little for her.
“That’s sound advice,” I say.
“My uncles and aunt tell each other all the time how much they like each other. It’s annoying, but I think that’s why they stay together.”
My brow furrows at her comment and the turn in conversation. “Relationships take work. Liking each other is only part of it.”
She shrugs. “I think if my mom and dad said they liked each other more, my dad wouldn’t have started seeing someone else.”
Well, this went into territory I was not prepared for. It also explains a lot about Lindsey’s past. I don’t know if Kas knows she just told me that her dad cheated on her mom, but that’s the clear implication.
“That steps into very complicated territory, kid. I bet it wasn’t that simple.”
She shrugs. “That’s what Mom says about it, too.”
“She’s a smart woman; you should listen to her.”
“That’s also what my Uncle Nate tells me,” she huffs.
“Sounds like you have a lot of smart people around you.”
“I guess so.”
I gently bump her on the shoulder with the back of my hand.
She looks at me, and I see the sadness and confusion in her eyes.
“Take it from me, Chaos Kas.” Her smile comes back at the nickname, and I continue.
“You’re young. You’re going to like lots of people, and some might like you back, and some might not.
But that doesn’t determine how likable you are. Remember that.”
Her eight-year-old brain works around what I said, and I don’t know if she gets it completely or not, but I meant what I said.
“Is this one of those self-esteem speeches teachers love to give us?”
I huff a laugh. “I don’t know, is it?”
She shrugs. “My teacher likes to make us these mantras about being enough and brave and stuff.”
“Sounds like a smart teacher.”
She rolls her eyes. “You like calling people smart.”
“I call it like I see it. Now, why don’t you throw an axe or two? You’ve still got ten minutes. Someone who likes you a lot is waving you over.”
Kas looks to where I’m pointing and sees Moira smiling and waving her friend over. I expect her to say that’s not the same or make an excuse not to, but she smiles and nods at me, telling Moira one minute by holding up a finger.
Kas faces me, and before I know what’s happening, little arms are around my waist, and I’m being hugged. My body stiffens in surprise, but then I relax.
Kas pulls back and looks up at me. “Thanks, Logger Dane.”
I don’t have time to react before she’s off again, making her way to Moira. She ignores Tyler and Sara and picks up an axe. She says something to Moira that makes them both giggle, then a determined look appears on her face.
She squares up with the target and stands in the form I showed them. A second later, she lets the axe fly, and it hits the center of the target with ease. She and Moira jump up and down in celebration, and I clench my jaw to keep from laughing.
When she glances back at Tyler, I know with one hundred percent certainty she pretended that was his face. I don’t know if that’s healthy or not, but I can’t deny the kid has talent. I’d also much rather her pretend the target is his face than throw the rubber axe at his real one.
Twenty minutes later, all the kids have been picked up, including Kas, who was picked up by Nathan so she could go to her dad’s for the weekend.
Now alone, I take my phone from my pocket and see I have several messages; a few are from clients, but those aren’t the ones I’m after.
I see Lindsey’s thread has notifications, and I click it open.
She messaged me an apology for her disobedience and said she’s going to journal on why she did what she did and didn’t check in with me.
All of that pleases me, and I acknowledge what she sent and praise her before I type out what I’ve been itching to say.
What I know is the next step in our relationship.
Me
If it wasn’t obvious, I’m going to say it now: I like you, Lindsey. I like you a lot. I’d like to show you how much, if you’d let me. Are you free tonight?
I reread the message, finding it’s so unlike me in many ways. It’s sappy, but my conversation with Kas is fresh in my mind. Lindsey needs to know that I like her and I’m not rejecting her.
The bubbles that indicate she’s typing pop up, and a few seconds later, her response comes through.
Lindsey
You have my schedule; you know I am.
I laugh at her smart mouth, and I have to think she’s being sassy on purpose.
Me
I’ll send you my address. We’ll eat at seven, but arrive by six thirty.
Lindsey
Yes, Sir. Any other requests?
Me
Wear the toy I sent you.
Lindsey
Yes, Sir.
Me
And Lindsey?
Lindsey
Yes?
Me
Don’t be late.