Page 124 of Only With You

I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t trust her.

A message from Instagram pops up on the top of my screen.

Landon Taylor: You didn’t reply back last night.

A treacherous smile tugs on my face. I was going to reply last night, but no one was on their phones.

Me: Careful, you’re showing your desperation.

Landon Taylor: Oh, I’m desperate for a lot of things.

I swallow hard and I look at the front door of my class. I’m teaching my students today, but they’re still not here yet.

Me: Desperate and obsessive. Who would have thought I’d be the one to bring these emotions out of you? I’m touched.

Me: So, what am I now? The bane of your existence and the object of all your desires. Night and day, you dream of me?

After Saint’s live last night, we binge-watchedBridgertonseason two, and now, Anthony and Kate live in my mind rent free.

Landon Taylor: Something like that.

My heart stops for a second, but it feels longer than that. I don’t want to overanalyze the message, because with Landon it can mean so many things. I don’t doubt that he’s being honest, because one thing about him is that he’s going to be blunt, but this is different.

Why am I overthinking this? We’re having fun, it’s all fun. Fun…

Right before I can type out a message, my students pile in the classroom, and thank God for it, because I need a distraction and this is the best kind.

I’m also working at the museum tonight, so it’ll give me time to think of a reply. I really am being ridiculous, making something out of nothing.

“Hi, friends.” I tuck my phone in my back pocket and the crazed emotions stop when I take in the sweet smiles of the children.

I remember when I first started doing this. I thought it’d be hard, because the kids’ ages range from six to fifteen. I wasn’t sure how I was going to teach different ages, but after a few weeks of interacting with the kids, it wasn’t too bad. They’re not only excited about learning how to play an instrument, but they stay engaged through it all.

I swear nothing has ever felt more fulfilling but also depressing, because in a few months, this will be over. My stomach bottoms out at the thought, but I shake the negativity away and smile as they take in the new instrument we’ll be using this week.

Last month, I taught them how to play the ukulele. It was so much fun, the kids begged me to let them take them home, but unfortunately, I couldn’t since it’s the museum’s property. And Iknow a month isn’t enough time for them to learn, but they got the basics down.

“Yes!” one of the girls, Dehliah, throws a fist pump in the air. “I love xylophones! They make the best sound.”

I chuckle at her enthusiasm and I watch them for a moment, soaking it all in as I always do, and pretend this is my reality.

I know I shouldn’t, because the goal is medical school and making my parents proud. That helps me snap me out of it and I gather them around to start the lesson of the day.

Despite being in North Carolina for almost four years, I still can’t get used to the weather. Just a few days ago, it was warm and that should be odd, because we’re in November now, but Mother Nature and NC don’t seem to align. Last year in the middle of December it was mildly warm, and on a random day in June, it was freezing.

I don’t get it, but I wish they’d come to an agreement because I decided to wear a blazer dress to work and I’m freezing my ass off. It’s my fault for not checking the weather app, but I swear it was warm earlier.

In my defense, there was an exhibit tonight, so I had to dress my best and there was no way I wasn’t going to wear this. After all, it was almost a grand, along with my heels, so I needed to wear it, or what’s the point of spending all of that money?

I crank up the heat to high, but it’s not warming up the Rover fast enough. Rubbing my freezing hands, I decide not to wait and drive out of the employee parking lot.

As cold as I am, it’s late and sitting in an empty lot at night is a horror movie waiting to happen.

Though I don’t make it very far, because the temperature gauge starts to rapidly rise and a bright red light flashes.

“Dear God, please not right now. Please, please, please not right now,” I beg, hoping it’s nothing and that my Rover isn’t overheating. But as I keep driving, the light continues to flash and smoke starts to rise out of the hood. “God, why?” I whine and pull over to the side, turn on my hazard lights, and shut the engine off.

I panic momentarily because it’s late, extremely dark, and it’s eerily silent. I usually take the back road because there’s less traffic and it gets me home faster. Now, I regret it because I’m alone.

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