18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Paul
The first day of school is always chaotic but I’m used to it. Dre, however, is not.
No one can ever really prepare you for it either. I wish I could say it gets easier every year to watch them head in with the sea of kids, but it doesn’t.
Every year it’s a new kind of ache. And every year you realize somehow, overnight, they grew up a little more, and it’s bittersweet. But when you’re at the beginning, it's a lot.
I watch as Rylee’s lip quivers and her eyes fill with tears as she holds onto Bacon J. Ham with a solid grip as Dre tries to take him off of her.
“Rylee…” Dre sighs, as the other parents and kids surround us, moving past us with unmatched confidence.
There’s lots of picture-taking, teachers and aides meeting parents halfway to walk the kindergartners to their classrooms. Amelia smooths down Maddox’s hair, wanting to get another photo because she wasn’t happy with the first one, and of course, he tries his hardest to avoid her, failing miserably.
“Oh my God… Mom, stop!”
I can’t help but laugh at his annoyance, but it makes me a little sad, too. Next month, he’ll be nine, and before I know it, we’ll be in double digits.
“Okay, ready, and—”
Rylee’s cries reach my ears, and I head towards Rylee and Dre without question.
He looks pretty frazzled already, and I know this is a big day for him. Not just because it’s Rylee’s first day… but it’s his, too.
Though I’m sure coaching high schoolers is different from coaching a pro team in the NFL, I know everyone up at Rockridge High is going to love him like I do, and once he gets settled in, he’ll love it there, too.
But right now, I can tell my best friend is more than just out of his element. Knowing him, he’s probably overthinking everything, so I take the lead. This isn’t my first rodeo.
“You know, school can be a very scary place for a pig,” I tell her.
Rylee sniffles, and I kneel before her, giving her stuffed pig a pet between the ears.
“Don’t you think Straw Berry will miss him if you keep him here?”
She frowns, looking at the pig in her arms.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t want them to be alone, do you?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“And you’re going to be so busy having fun and making friends.” I smile wide. “He’ll be so lonely in your backpack.”
She lets Dre take the pig from her hands. Her gaze fixes on me.
“I can take him home so he can keep Straw Berry company. Until I come get you after school today. And then we can eat s’mores for dinner,” I whisper loudly.
“And we won’t tell Daddy.” She giggles through her sniffling.
“And you can tell them both all about your first day at school. Would you like that?”
Rylee sniffles again, but the tears have stopped.
She nods. “Yeah…”
“Okay, then.” I press the stuffed pig’s snout against her nose, and she giggles. “That’s Pig Latin for good luck.” Rylee laughs as I stand up, noticing the way Andre is looking at me, like he’s about to cry.
I shove the pig at his face, and Rylee laughs louder as Maddox laughs behind me, making snorting pig noises as Amelia tells him to stop, but I can hear her laughing, too.
“Good luck, Mr. Taylor,” I say, tucking the pig under my arm as I head back over to Amelia and Maddox.
Maddox makes another snort, and I give him a smile.
“You want one too?” I joke. I bop his nose with the pig and he laughs and then he does the thing I don’t expect. He hugs me.
Not a forced hug, or an obligated hug, but…
A real hug.
I hug him back.
“Good luck,” I manage to squeak out as he lets go and hugs his mother.
Amelia tells him to have a great day, that she’ll see him later, and Maddox takes his leave.
Though when he gets to the doors, just before heading in, he stops, and I tense, but when I see him heading straight for Dre—no, Rylee—I relax.
He says something to Dre, who smiles, and then Dre lets go of his daughter’s hand.
Maddox grabs Rylee’s hand, and my heart skips a beat as I watch him slowly head into the school with Rylee, and I swear I feel tears well in my own eyes.
“He’s such a good kid,” Amelia says, and I hear the pride in her voice.
“You did good,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
“No, Paul,” she says softly. “We did good.”
I look at her with a half smile just before catching Dre’s smile as he waves, heading for his car.
All I can do is wave back, but I wish I could do more, but it’ll have to suffice for now. We’ve both got a long day ahead of us.
True to my word, I go home—because I’m starting to think of Dre’s as home, now that I’ve officially let my lease go—and grab the stuffed pink pig and strap both stuffies into the passenger seat so they are riding shotgun when I pick up Rylee from school.
Since my practices are after school on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and alternating Mondays, and Dre’s are Mondays Tuesdays, and Fridays, we agreed it’d be easier for me to pick Rylee up since the elementary school is closer to the middle school, and on Fridays, I can pick up Maddox, too, if he wants.
When the bell rings, it’s insanity as usual, but thankfully, elementary school still has an hour until dismissal, so I don’t have to worry about being late to pick up Rylee.
Dre’s parents offered, of course, but with the elementary school being so close, it just made sense since I’d pass it on the way home, anyway.
The first couple of weeks are always crazy, no matter what though.
After Labor Day, things settle down, and as much as I love my job, both teaching and coaching, going back after spending the summer off is always bittersweet.
Especially after this summer, given everything that’s happened.
I don’t know where things changed between us; all I know is that they did, and strangely enough, it wasn’t that big of a deal. But I can’t deny that ever since we got back from New York things have been different, but not in a bad way. It’s the opposite, I guess.
Things between Dre and I are…
Well, I don’t really know what they are.
He’s still my best friend, and in some ways, that hasn’t changed at all; but I also know that you don’t anticipate the next moment you’ll have to kiss your best friend, or fantasize about making out with your best friend while his hard dick grinds against yours the next time the two of you get a night to yourselves, either. Or more for that matter.
Not that we’ve discussed… that. Or anything regarding this unfamiliar territory.
Maybe I should say something, but I’m not even sure what I would say. I just know that I like whatever it is we are doing together.
I like spending time with Dre and Rylee.
I like how easily we’ve fallen into these little routines and movie nights, and how Dre and I are always competing to one-up each other over things like groceries or purposefully annoying each other because we can.
Being here, with him and Rylee, it feels like home.
Like it used to feel when Amelia and I were married. Sort of.
Which is what I can’t stop thinking about the entire drive—a whopping fifteen minutes—to the elementary school.
Does Dre feel the same? Or am I just overthinking things again?
I park the Jeep in the lot below, knowing it’ll be a hell of a lot easier because the first day of school pickup line is always nuts.
Making my way up the stairs, slowly out front, I watch as the kids file out and search for their parents.
I don’t even get a chance to look for Rylee.
She squeals at the top of her lungs and runs right for me, nearly knocking me over when she hugs my legs.
The smile that forms on my face is irrefutable.
“Where are they?” she asks, and I have to peel her off of my legs but I can’t help but chuckle, because her excitement is too damn cute.
“In the car, waiting to hear all about your day.”
She takes off, but I manage to grab her hand and lead her towards the Jeep. She unbuckles her toys and hugs them tight, and my heart melts a little.
“Come on, princess,” I tell her as I urge her to get in the backseat, which thankfully she doesn’t argue about.
The whole drive home—the whopping fifteen minutes—she talks nonstop to her stuffies about everything under the sun. Her teacher, Miss Davis, the funny little boy who didn’t know orange was a color, and the little girl next to her who liked her shoes.
When we get home, she takes off for her room with her animals, and I let her go. She’s excited.
I spend most of my night in the kitchen doing meal prep for myself, and I make double batches so Dre can have stuff to take in his lunch, too. I know how it is, especially during football season. We’re lucky to eat at our desks, if we eat at all some days.
Maybe I should feel weird about being here, taking care of Rylee, but it’s the opposite. I don’t.
In fact, I find it kind of relaxing, maybe even fun.
“Are we really going to have s’mores for dinner?” she asks, finally coming downstairs at five-thirty.
“Absolutely,” I tell her. “But we’re also going to have chicken and cheesy pasta, too.” I wink. “But we can eat the s’mores first.”
I don’t stop moving until seven-thirty, when Rylee is finally in her pink llama pjs and crawling into bed. I tuck her in, and get up to leave, but she stops me because I forgot the most important part of bedtime.
The story.
I freeze, unsure exactly what she wants, but just like her father, she is direct as hell.
She settles on Beauty and the Beast, so I oblige, though I’m pretty sure I’m going to completely botch it. Amelia was always better at this; at making voices and pretending things were bigger than they were.
“You sure this is the one you want?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.
She nods. “Uh huh. It’s my favorite.”
“Really?”
She smiles. “Mommy used to read it all the time.”
My heart breaks at her words. I can’t even begin to imagine how scary and confusing things must be for her. She squeezes her stuffies, curling closer to my side, and I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Well, I’ll do my best, okay?”