Page 86 of Writing On The Wall

“No ma’am.” I force down the lump threatening to clog my throat. “I make sure of it.”

“I’m sure you do. But are there things we can do to make it easier for you?”

This question may be the tipping point. Little puddles gather in my eyes, and I blink rapidly, attempting to will them away. But my heart has been aching to hear those words for somany years that it feels like a million clamps are loosening around my chest.

“I think so…yeah.” Another audible gulp. I’m basically a cartoon character with the way my tears are spouting out. C.J. rises from her seat, rounding her desk to perch on the arm of my chair and offering me a tissue and a tight squeeze.

“Well, then, we’ll figure it out,” she says, resting her chin on my head while I make very unladylike noises into a tissue. She releases me, but her regal, motherly hand still rubs circles on my back. “Your students thrive, Ivy. And my guess is your struggles have forced you to teach them in more hands-on ways, which is how kids learn best. Did you know Benjamin Franklin had dyscalculia?”

“I didn’t,” I say, feeling my brows pull together as the knot in my stomach relaxes. “Thank you, C.J.”

I stand, sniffling into my tissue. When I look up, C.J.’s hazel eyes are still regarding me with unexpected affection. “You’re not broken, Ivy. In fact, you have a strength that’s fierce and unique. Don’t hide it.”

Right for the jugular. I croak out another thank you, hugging her one more time and scurrying off to my classroom before I blubber all over her neatly pressed blouse.

C.J.’s words are important, I realize, ones I should declare every day. Learning to be kind to myself isn’t easy, but I’m starting to understand that I must fully love who I am before I can truly love someone else. And since I’m already well on my way to falling in love with a certain someone, I need to get this self-love stuff right, too.

When I reach my classroom, I find Toby waiting for me with his brow furrowed. He rubs a thumb under his lip, his focus consumed by what he’s reading on his phone, like he’s trying to piece things together.

“Hey, Bee,” I greet him, giving my nose one last wipe. Helifts his head, smiling for a second before fading back into a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

I gurgle a laugh, waving his words away. “I just told C.J. about myproblem.You know. The dyslexia thing.” I add, realizing I’ve never actually told Toby about it either. He’s just supportively pieced things together over the last year and a bit.

“Oh! Wow. She didn’t take it well?” he asks as he moves to stand.

“She was amazing. These are happy tears.”

“Oh…Okay. Good…Well, done, Vee. I’m glad you told her.”

“So, why areyouso frowny?” I ask, gesturing to his phone.

His brows raise as he inhales slowly. “This is gonna sound crazy, but I’m worried about you. And I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After you told me about the music box and how much it’s worth, I set up some bots to flag any internet searches for it. A few have been popping up in this area. Unfortunately, it looks like someone caught the search I did.”

I glare at him with one eyebrow cocked. “You’re looking at me like I should know what that means.”

“It means whoever’s searching for the music box probably knows you have it. It’s a stretch, but if I were this other person also looking for it, I’d follow this lead. I mean, why would anyone else be looking for the exact same insanely valuable yet rare antique music box that you just found in your Gran’s house?”

My eyes begin shifting aimlessly over the desks in front of me as I process what Toby is insinuating. “So I need to…what, watch my back in case any goons are after some treasure?” I ask over a laugh. “This is ridiculous. I’m sure it’s all in our heads.”

“Vee, I’m a math teacher, I don’t believe in coincidence oroperate ‘in my head.’ Come on, youknowI wouldn’t make a big deal about this if it was nothing. Just be careful, ‘kay?”

“Yes, sir.” I respond, rolling my eyes before sobering with a serious look and pointed finger. “Butdon’ttell Ethan. The man will put up burglar bars on every window.”

“I think he should know, Ivy.”

“He’s supposed to go away for his show soon, and he won’t leave if he thinks I’m in danger. You can stay over while he’s gone. Please, Bee? I don’t want him to turn down an opportunity this big because of me.”

“Fine.” He grunts and crosses his arms.

“And play nice when you come over later.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “You put your bossy pants on this morning?”

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