Chapter 19
SAWYER
The next morning, I walk into work feeling like the undead, circles under my eyes and beard unruly. My mind is still on Tess and Brie, exactly where it’s been all night. Okay, if I’m honest, it’s been sixty-percent Brie.
Eighty-five, tops.
That’s not to say I don’t care about Tess—I do. But based on what Brie said about neither of them wanting to see another man again, I assume Tess just needs some time to realize she’s better off without whatever loser she was dating.
Brie, though? I can’t figure her out. One minute, we’re fine, for us at least, and the next, she’s epically pissed off. Specifically, pissed off at me.
She accused me of faking my concern, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I wish I could understand where her sudden glacial attitude came from.
For hours, I work on autopilot. I chat with children’s parents, answer emails, have a phone call with the school district. By lunchtime, gun to my head, I couldn’t tell you which parents I spoke to, what the emails were about, or why the district called.
Glancing at the clock for the thousandth time, I notice third grade lunch is starting. When Brie has a standing date with Tess at the teachers’ lounge.
Defiantly, I take my book out of my bag and sit at my desk with my lunch like I’ve done a hundred times. I unscrew my thermos, take a leisurely bite of my chili, lean back in my chair, and open my book to the dog-eared page.
My eyes glaze over the words as I consider storming down the hall, locking Brie in a closet with me, and having a real conversation like Ethan suggested. I’d ask her very nicely to explain what I did last night to make her so angry. I want to know if she can ever see who I am, instead of who I was.
And, since this is a fantasy, I’d kiss the hell out of her.
No. She’d kiss the hell out of me.
But I can’t do that, especially the last bit. Not at school, at least. Polite and professional. Those were Brie’s words, and they’re good ones.
I glance at the clock. It’s already five minutes into third grade lunch.
Five minutes I could’ve spent with her.
Scratching my jaw, I rise deliberately to my feet and pick up my thermos and water bottle, as if intentional movements will convince myself I’m being rational when I know with absolute certainty I’m behaving like a junkie.
I just gave myself a pep talk about polite and professional, yet all I can think about is getting answers.
As I draw near the teachers’ lounge, I brace myself for whatever I’m about to walk into. More hostility from Brie? A teary-eyed Tess? The inaugural meeting of their new man-haters’ club?
I push through the door, and several teachers pass me, leaving just Tess and Brie inside.
A heavy rock lands in my gut as I take them in. Tess’s head is tipped back while she blinks up at the ceiling. Brie has her head in her hands, shoulders shaking.
I take swift strides toward them. Before I can ask what’s wrong, Tess pulls herself together enough to say, “And I haven’t had a pickle since!”
Brie cackles like a banshee.
I huff out a relieved laugh.
They glance over, and their laughter fizzles. Brie turns her gaze pointedly away. It stings, but I ignore it and plunk my thermos and water bottle on the table. If I did something wrong, she’s going to have to explain.
I drop into a chair at the small round table. Brie’s looking everywhere but me.
Tess meets my eyes. Her lips press together in an embarrassed smile.
“You good?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yeah. Sor—”
I interrupt, “No apologies. And you don’t have to tell me anything. But I hope you know you always can.”
And there it is, a genuine smile as she nods. I’ve always liked Tess. We started teaching here the same year, and even though I’m not particularly close to her, she’s kind of like the annoyingly chipper little sister I never had. I hate to think someone broke her heart.
She shifts, and a flash of something conspiratorial crosses her face as she glances at Brie then back at me with playful mischief in her eyes. Even though I don’t know what it’s about, I can’t help feeling like Tess and I have an alliance.
“So, Sawyer,” Tess starts, voice suspiciously nonchalant, “I hear you’re dating someone new.”
My first instinct is to deny it, but with the expectant way Tess is looking at me, I decide to play out whatever game this is. “It’s possible. What of it?”
Brie’s eyes snap up, finally focusing on me. She looks murderous. Is it still because of whatever she was mad about last night, or is it the prospect of me dating someone? Hope rises in my chest that Brie might be jealous of some imaginary other woman.
“Well,” Tess continues, “I heard that you went to dinner with Brie and Dev.”
That hope expands in my chest knowing Brie’s been talking about me with Tess.
I reply, “That was weeks ago.”
“And,” Tess goes on, “Dev had a date.”
This stumps me for a moment, and I almost blurt out, “He did?” But of course he had a date. It’s why I went to dinner in the first place, the crestfallen look on Brie’s face when she saw Dev with someone else had me jumping into action before I could think better of it.
“Aaand,” Tess says, “now you have a thing with Harvest.”
“Harvest?” At first, I think she’s talking about the garden I’m planning after my cabin’s built.
Tess frowns and looks at Brie. “Isn’t that her name? Harvest?”
It hits me. Harvest. Dev’s date.
Then I hear her words anew and I choke on my bite of chili. So much for Tess and me in an alliance. She’s trying to bury me, I’m completely on my own here. Why would she think I have a thing for Harvest?
I gulp my water and bang my fist into my chest before I answer. “Where did you hear that?” I cough out.
Tess’s mouth is agape and she doesn’t answer, but Brie’s eyes narrow on me, like I’m some scheming criminal.
I’m tired of guessing at what’s in her head.
Of not knowing why she’s mad at me, or what she blames me for.
Ever since she’s been back, I’ve been nothing but chivalrous to her.
Except for the lack of professionalism on my part.
And maybe barging in on her not-real-date with Dev.
And arguing about what really happened in first grade.
But none of that warrants this.
Fed up, I return her expression, narrowing my own eyes at her. I’m acting more like a kid on the playground than the principal, but Brie does this to me. She drives me to the brink of insanity, forcing the worst out of me until I almost break.
She rolls her eyes.
And then I do break.
“Use your words, Brie.” I say it with condescension I wouldn’t even use on a student.
She scoffs. “I have no words for you, Sawyer.” Then a humorless smile spreads across her lips. “Or, maybe I can think of two.”
I lean one elbow on the table, meeting her grin with my own maniacal one. “Don’t be shy. Go ahead and say it, honey.” I place my other elbow on the table. “And while you’re at it, tell me what all you told Tess about our date that night.”
“It wasn’t a date,” she sneers.
Smirking, I say, “But you gossiped with your friend like it was.” It’s more wishful thinking than anything else. I want it to be true.
“Only to tell her how much of a jerk you were,” she hisses.
Tess raises a finger. “Actually—”
Brie cuts her off with a death glare, and Tess leans back in her chair, wide eyes ping-ponging between us.
When I chuckle, her death glare transfers to me.
I plant my hands on the table and stand up. “What exactly is your problem with me, Brie? Please, share with the class. Because I can never tell.”
Her eyes widen, shocked I’m calling her out.
“God forbid someone not like the Prince of Blue Ridge! But that’s all there is to it, it’s as simple as me not liking you.
You have no respect for anyone else, no regard for anyone’s feelings.
You think you can just do whatever you want, take whatever you want. ”
I made a sound like pfft. If that were at all true, Brie and I would have a very different relationship.
“What am I supposed to have taken?” I ask indulgently.
She lurches to her feet, indignant I even have to ask. “Oh, I don’t know. How about Harvest?”
My eyes cut to Tess—I completely forgot she brought her up earlier. But I’m still not following. “Harvest?”
“Dev told me,” she snarls.
At this point, I’m pretty sure I’ve connected the dots. She’s not jealous of some imaginary woman. She’s protective of Dev. But if she’s accusing me of something, I need her to spell it out, every inconceivable detail. “Dev told you what?”
She rolls her eyes. Not just her eyes. Her entire torso rolls in one exasperated halo. “Harvest dumped him. For you.”
“And why would she do that?”
A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face, but she leans closer and doubles down. “Because you took her.”
I can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes. “You’re talking about a human person.”
“Fine, it takes two, and she made her choice,” she says primly, “but don’t deny your part.”
“My part in what?”
She flaps her hands in the air. “In breaking Dev’s heart!”
Dev wasn’t exactly smitten that night. “I doubt it.”
Coming around the table, she points her finger at my chest. “So you admit it!”
I turn my body toward her. “Admit I broke Dev’s heart?”
“That you’re with Harvest!”
I step closer. “I don’t admit that.”
Her arms cross, pushing up her pretty tits. “Why not?”
My hands shove into my pockets. “Because it isn’t true.”
She bares her teeth, making that same angry face I love so much. “So it’s all a game? You proved you could take her from Dev, then dumped her?”
It’s impressive. This mental gymnastics. All to keep thinking the worst of me.
“I was never with her. Never talked to her, saw her, or thought of her for a second after that night until this conversation. And” —I pause, staring at Brie for one loaded moment— “I wouldn’t have her.”
Brie frowns, like this is the most confusing part of all, before hardening her face again. “Because she’s not good enough for you? Figures.”
Hands still in my pockets, I tilt toward her and enunciate so she doesn’t miss a word. “Because I’m not interested in her.”
She inhales sharply. Her pupils dilate and that plump lower lip juts out. It would be so easy to capture between my teeth. I have to tighten every muscle in my body to stop myself.
“So!” Tess claps her hands once.
Brie and I jerk away from each other. We blink back into reality, and after one more loaded look, we fall into our seats.
“I like your tie,” Tess says.
I look down. Bluey stares back.
“Thanks.”
This is my favorite tie because kids go crazy for Bluey, I get at least triple the high-fives when I wear it.
I wear these goofy ties to appear more approachable to the kids.
I dole out high-fives like candy, I show up to a gym class at least once a week to challenge the class to a race against me, and I have a special secret box for kids to leave messages for me if they’re ever too scared to talk.
Once, a kindergartener left a drawing that prompted us to learn his older step-brother was bullying him.
The point is, I take this job seriously. But I haven’t been acting like it lately.
I look around. We’re still the only teachers in the lounge, and I heave out a shuttering sigh.
Fuck. I can’t keep doing this. I got carried away. Again. Completely unprofessional in a professional setting. I shouldn’t have even allowed myself to come down here.
Brie is back to dutifully ignoring me, which is for the best.
“Next week’s spirit week,” Tess says, completely oblivious to my internal scolding. “Do you have any intel on when Funny Bunny will make an appearance?”
When the brES mascot makes his appearance during spirit week is a surprise to everyone except the person in the suit.
Spoiler: it’s me. I’m Funny Bunny.
“Nice try,” I tell her, screwing the top on my thermos and standing up. “It’s a surprise.”