TESSA
“Y ou havea little something on your chin .”
“What?” I swipe at my face and then stare at the sticky white goo smeared on my finger. “Well that’s embarrassing,” I murmur, before popping my finger into my mouth and sucking it clean .
“It happens to me all the time.” Faye offers a knowing smile. “Did you stop in the teacher’s lounge and snag a donut?” asks the woman who is quickly becoming more friend than colleague .
I laugh. “I sure did. And then I sat in my empty classroom and crammed it down my throat before the kids came back from gym class .”
“Sounds about right.” Faye glances at the herd of second graders following us through the halls of Wildland Elementary and then leans in close. “Just a word to the wise,” she whispers. “Do not let the assistant principal catch you doing that. That woman adores crushing souls.” Faye studies several brightly colored art projects hanging on the walls before turning back to me. “She barely needs a reason to fire someone .”
“That’s not terrifying or anything.” I grimace. “I don’t think she likes me very much. I must have said something weird in my interview or something. Which wouldn’t be surprising, because, you know, it’s me .”
Faye chuckles. “No, that wouldn’t be surprising at all. But don’t worry. It’s not just you. Rhonda Thompson doesn’t like anyone.” Faye turns and walks backward as we approach the front doors of the school. “Remember,” she says, addressing her students. “We’ll be in the courtyard, not the playground. The sidewalk is your boundary line and do not, for any reason, go near the parking lot .”
I pivot, eyeing my class. “That goes for all of you, not just Mrs. Dunlap’s class. The goal here isn’t just to collect as many leaves as you can find, but to collect as many different leaves as you can find. Try to get one of each color if you can .”
After getting a general affirmative from the students, we push through the doors and out into a brilliant fall day. It takes my breath away. Even after living in Brookside, Ohio for the last six months, my southern soul is still thrilled by the chill in the air, the blue skies, and—the whole reason we’re headed outside in the first place—the trees, dressed in their autumn foliage. I hold the door as kids stream past, chattering away, excited to be outside. They swarm the courtyard; some jump right into scavenging for leaves, but most take a minute to run and scream and play before settling down to work .
Faye elbows me in the ribs, pointing toward the parking lot. “Is that not the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen? There’s just something about a big man with a little kid, isn’t there ?”
I follow her gaze and find one of my students—Claire Carmichael—hopping out of a monstrous black truck with giant mudding tires. A man holds her arms and lifts her so she flies through the air before landing heavily on the pavement, giggling .
“There really is,” I agree, watching the two in the parking lot .
“If he’s single, I call dibs.” Faye smooths her hair and tugs at her shirt. “I earned it. I saw him first .”
“No worries there. You can have him. I’m not interested .”
“Not interested? How you can say that when you haven’t even talked to him ?”
“I don’t have to talk to him to know he’s not my type .”
Faye scowls at me. “Judgy much? There’s no way you can tell that from here .”
“Oh yes there is. The truck alone is a giant flashing neon sign that says THIS GUY IS NOT FOR TESSA MORGAN.” I blink my fingers in time with my words. “But if the truck isn’t a big enough warning, the baseball hat is.” Childish laughter in the courtyard catches my attention and I do a quick head count to make sure everyone’s where they should be .
“Are you kidding me?” Faye’s eyes go wide. “I love a guy in a hat, especially when they wear it low like that, with the bill curved?” She studies the man with hungry eyes, biting her bottom lip .
I wait for her to finish mentally undressing him before responding. “Not me. I like my men clean cut. Give me Dockers and a polo shirt over Mr. Rough and Tumble out there any time .”
Faye rolls her eyes. “Bor-ing .”
“You say boring, I say safe. I’ve spent too much time working on myself to deal with someone who’s still figuring it out .”
“And you think because he wears a hat and drives a big truck, that means he’s still figuring it all out?” Faye arches an eyebrow .
“Well, no. Wow.” I run my fingers along the string of pearls at my throat. “You’re right. I’m being pretty horrible right now, aren’t I? Maybe that man has totally figured himself out.” And we couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. I watch as the man hands Claire her backpack and swings the truck door shut. “Oh, hey. Good news for you. That’s one of my student and that is not her dad .”
“Perfect.” Faye squares her shoulders, pushing her boobs out for public consumption. “I don’t care if he has anything figured out. That right there is one fine male specimen and that’s all the figuring that needs to happen.” Faye looks like she has more to say, but she notices one of her students wandering away from the pack. “Hey! That’s far enough, Sophie!” she calls, taking a few steps in the little girl’s direction. “I’ll be right back,” she says to me before she takes off across the courtyard .
“Ms. Morgan!” Claire races across the sidewalk, a huge smile on her icing-smeared face. “I’m sorry I’m late. My little brother had to go to the hospital .”
“Oh no! The hospital?” I ask, turning to the man who brought Claire to school. “I hope everything’s okay .”
He smiles, and I forget everything I thought I knew about anything. The man is so handsome, I can’t think straight. Faye’s right. This is one stunning male specimen. Everything about him sets me on edge, from the way he looks, to the way he looks at me, like he can see right into my soul and has deemed me unworthy of his attention .
“He’s fine,” he says, his voice low and warm and dismissive. “He tripped and hit his head—the usual hazards of being new at this walking stuff. He needs a stitch or two, but he’ll be right as rain once he sees the donuts I have for him in my truck.” He drops a wink at Claire and I swallow back a reply .