Page 19 of Waiting For Fate

“Yeah, just a busy week ahead at work. You know how the kids get before fall break.” I lie.

“Sweetheart, you are a terrible liar.” My eyes grow wide at my dad’s comment and my mom snickers. “Does this happen to have anything to do with a certain Clark boy moving back home?” My head swings back in her direction and my mouth pops open. I hold her stare as she raises a brow at me, and I clamp my mouth shut again before letting out a sigh.

Mom has always been able to see right through me.

Dad may know when I’m lying, but Mom always knows why.

She’s the only one who ever truly knew how I felt about Sawyer, but she never gave me a hard time about it. I assume she mentioned it to my dad of course, because they were both there for me when he basically disappeared from my life. Mom and I had deeper conversations about my feelings while watching 10 Things I Hate About You—which was my favorite movie long before it felt so relevant in my own life—more times than I can count, while Dad would just tell me to get my shoes on and take me for ice cream or iced coffee before driving around in a comfortable silence with me. Windows down, music up, and spirits lifted—that was Dad’s expertise. When I’d reached a point of thickening my skin and told Mom I didn’t want to talk about it anymore—that I was done crying over a friendship that was likely one sided anyways—we never spoke of him again.

Until now, apparently.

“No,” I snap, a little embarrassed that that’s exactly what’s wrong with me. “Besides, I’m seeing Jackson and things are going well with him. So, I’m just focusing on that right now.” When I lift my head again her eyes are full of concern, but she nods, and we drop it.

“So, tell me about Jackson. I want to hear all about him.” She folds her hands together and smiles at me, causing me to blush as I think about the kiss we shared this past weekend. When my dad notices he simply grumbles and reaches across the table.

“That’s my cue to leave.” He reaches for a cookie but my mom swats his hand away.

“Allen Gates, you know you can’t have that until you check your insulin.” Dad rubs his hand like he’s shocked by my mother’s actions—as if it’s not the same one she gives him every time he tries grabbing a treat before checking his blood sugar levels.

“Yes, Dear, I know.” My parents are grossly in love, and I can’t help but laugh when they get on each other's nerves like this.

The rest of the evening is spent talking while Sweet Magnolias plays in the background. We’ve both binged every season, but who doesn’t love a comfort show as background noise while you chat?

When I finally get back in my car to leave and grab my phone to start my playlist for the drive home, the breath is sucked from my lungs all over again when it opens straight to the text I was reading at the dinner table.

Moose

That kiss should have been mine.

“Ms. Gates, my pumpkin didn’t turn out right.” Liliana’s head falls back dramatically as she groans.

“What’s the matter with it?” When I reach her side of the table and see her orange construction paper cut into an unidentifiable shape, I have to place my fingers over my lips to stifle my laughter. “Oh…” I tilt my head, trying to find a way to make it work. “It looks like a?—”

“It looks like troll hair,” she interrupts, glaring up at me like I am somehow at fault for this mishap. “I might as well call it Poppy the deformed pumpkin.” This time, I can’t hold back my laughter no matter how hard I try. This girl is the most dramatic six-year-old I have ever taught and I love her all the more for it.

“I was going to say it looks like a gourd, which is close enough.” I do my best to encourage her, but she is not having it. “Just finish the project sweetie, I’m sure your mom will love it.” I pat her shoulder and walk over to the next table to see how the other students are doing with their projects before checking my watch.

Five minutes until dismissal.

“Okay, everyone finish your projects it’s almost time to go!” When I clap my hands together the kids begin scrambling to gather their backpacks and are lined up at the door within two minutes.

“Okay, why don’t you guys move that quickly any other day?” I tease them, making them all giggle and bounce up and down in place. After wishing everyone a good fall break and finishing cleaning up my classroom, I grab my bag and head home.

I have big plans for a self-care evening and I’m not going to think about anything school related while I soak in a bubble bath and drink some wine. I blast my music the whole way home to get myself out of work mode—leaving my phone on do not disturb so I don’t have to worry about notifications ruining my vibe. About the time I turn off do not disturb mode, kick off my shoes and drop my bag in the entryway, I hear my phone go off several times.

Jackson

Hey, you must have left on two wheels, I looked for you after dismissal but couldn’t find you.

GIRL GANG GROUP CHAT

Tay

Sawyer is coming to Thanksgiving this year! Everyone cool with that?

Shane

The more the merrier. It’s not like I’m making the turkey.

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