Page 91 of Love Lessons

Jamie shrugged with one shoulder. “I don’t even know. Things are pretty weird right now. She knows I’ve got to move out of Woodvale eventually, but I don’t think that’s what she wants. I know she’ll follow me like a lost puppy if I go, but I don’t want to force her away from this job that she loves—or her family. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice what she wants for me.”

“You don’t think you’re what she wants?”

Jamie grunted in response as she reached for her water bottle on the counter. Before she could give me a real answer, my phone chimed. My heart nearly stopped when I realized who the Facebook message was from.

Troy Devin: Haven’t heard from you in a while. Hope you’re doing well

“Are you kidding me?” I blurted, laughing at the audacity of his implication that our lack of contact was in any way my fault. I flipped my phone around so Jamie could see the screen.

She read the message and rolled her eyes. “And that’s exactly why I’ve had the dude blocked for the past year.”

Smart.

* *

Finley Reed had something for me hidden behind her back, and she was insisting I guess what it was. “Is it a jellyfish?”

“Nope.”

“Is it… an acorn?”

“Nope! Keep guessing!”

“Finley, I give up.” We’d been at this for a few minutes now. She had been the first student to arrive that day, and the class was filled with students now. Everyone was in their seats and ready to start their day—except for Finley. She stood before me with the goofiest grin, awaiting my next guess. “Why don’t you just show me?”

Walter, who was seated in his chair just behind Finley, couldn’t take this anymore. “It’s donuts.”

Finley’s face fell. I thought she’d respond with tears, but she chose violence instead—lobbing the little package of donuts directly at Walter’s head. Her entire face turned red with rage. “You ruined the surprise!”

“Finley!” After giving Walter a quick glance to make sure the impact of the donuts hadn’t actually hurt, I crouched before Finley and took her hands in mine. “Honey, I’m still very surprised. How’d you know I like those donuts?”

“He ruined it!”

“No he didn’t. I’m so, so happy you brought those for me.”

Her eyes were welling up with tears now. “I wanted it to be special.”

“It is, sweetheart. It is.” I leaned forward to pick the donuts up from the floor. A couple of them were smashed now, but other than that, they were fine. “You are so sweet and thoughtful to think of this. But you do need to apologize to Walter.”

“He needs to apologize to me.”

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh. She wasn’t completely wrong. “I don’t think he knew it would upset you so much, and we don’t throw things at our friends. Please tell him you’re sorry.”

Finley’s bottom lip quivered, and a few seconds later, her entire face scrunched up and she fell into my arms. Sobbing into my shoulder, she begged, “Please don’t be mad at me.”

I adjusted my position so I could sit on my feet and pull Finley down onto my lap. She shook as she sobbed into my shoulder, and I was beginning to get the impression this wasn’t just about the donuts. “I’m not mad at you at all,” I said, pulling her hair away from her face. “Everybody makes mistakes. You were feeling angry at Walter for ruining the surprise and you threw the donuts at him without thinking. Why don’t you catch your breath, and then you can apologize.” I looked over her head at Walter as I spoke—for someone who just had a package of donuts thrown at his head, he looked pretty calm. He was watching us closely.

Finley sniffled and pulled away from me, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry, Walter.”

He glanced up at me before turning back to Finley. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.” That was almost an apology, and Finley seemed satisfied with it. She nodded in response before finding her seat so we could get started for the day.

What a morning.

**

“I told you I would let you know if I observed any changes in Finley’s behavior,” I said to Mason as he set my coffee down on my desk in front of me that morning. His eyes widened, so I quickly added, “She’s okay, there was just a little incident this morning.”

I waited for him to sit in his usual chair and pull it up to my desk before I told him about the donut incident—emphasizing how Finley cried when she worried I might be “mad” at her. “But are the donuts okay?” he asked when I was finished explaining what happened.

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