Page 45 of Dust Storm

“Listen to me,” she began. “You are not responsible for anyone but yourself. Unless you’re getting a paycheck to be a teacher or a babysitter—that punk, Dylan, isn’t your concern. I don’t care if he’s running circles around the classroom with his clothes on fire.He is not your problem.If he wants to be a distraction, let him. If he makes a mess, let him sit in his own shit. It’s the teacher’s job to teach him. Not yours. You keep your eyes on the lesson. Put your blinders on and stay unbothered.”

I … couldn’t argue with that.

Cassandra pointed a manicured nail at Gracie. “Are you on the payroll?”

“No, ma’am,” Gracie said with more assertiveness than I had ever heard her muster.

“Is that kid your responsibility?” she pressed.

“No, ma’am!”

“If he wants to be a problem, what are you gonna do?” Cassandra snapped.

But it wasn’t a question spawned out of irritation. She was a coach. A drill sergeant.

Gracie beamed. “Let him run around on fire.”

Cassandra blinked at Gracie, stunned, before turning to sit back in her seat. “This family is so weird.”

10

CHRISTIAN

“Have a good day,” I said as the girls climbed out of the truck and onto the sidewalk.

Teachers and parents stared when they realized I had a woman in the front seat.

Rumors about my dating life circulated from time to time, but I kept to myself. It minimized the fuel for the wildfire of small-town gossip.

“Love you, Daddy,” Bree said.

“Love you too, beautiful.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Gracie chirped as she shouldered her backpack.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

Before I could get another word out, Gracie beamed at Cassandra. “Bye, Miss Cass. Have a day as pretty as you are!” And with that, she skipped down the sidewalk, laughing with her sister.

The carpool monitor shut the doors, and I pulled out of the line to head into town. Cassandra didn’t say a word, but the corner of her lips twitched.

When my tires left the school property, she broke. “Let me guess. I’m about to get chewed out.”

I caught a whiff of expensive perfume and wondered if it was a fragrance she chose for herself or if her dick-face fiancé had bought it for her.

“Go ahead,” she said, closing her eyes as she relaxed on the headrest. “Let me have it.”

“Why do you think I’d chew you out?” I asked as I shifted, resting my wrist on the top of the steering wheel.

She tapped a finger on her lip. “Where do I even begin? For corrupting your children. For talking to her like an adult. For?—”

“Telling my girl how to advocate for herself?” I cut in.

Cassandra peered over at me.

A sad smile crept up without warning. “They’re growing up. It’s probably good that someone balances out my desire to keep them little forever. Once in a while, at least.”

She pretended to gag, and it made me laugh under my breath.

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