Page 125 of Between the Lines

Whoops.

Claire gapes, eyes widening, and whacks me in the chest.

“We’ll talk about this later after I punish you for withholding information by torturing you on the dance floor.”

“Oh. I like her,” Dr. Marty chuckles. “You stick around, sweetheart. You’re good for his soul.”

“Keep him in line for us,” June echoes.

“Hey!” I protest, but to no avail. They all laugh before Dr. Marty and June head off to say hello to another couple. When I glance down at Claire, she’s shaking her head with a smile.

“Are you really giving a speech?”

Her tone softens, and she lays a hand on my bicep. It’s comforting.

“I am. I typically reword the same speech year in and year out. It’s old hat by now.”

“Do you need to practice it one more time?”

“No,” I say, running my hand gently over the large, loose curls she’s styled her hair into tonight. “Knowing you’re out in the audience for me tonight is enough to set me at ease.”

She presses up onto her toes and kisses me softly.

In public. In front of other people. It scares me how little that scares me.

Later, after cocktail hour has begun for the adults and makeovers have begun for the children, I nurse my Dr. Pepper as I watch her from the edge of the room.

“She’s a beaut, Nate,” Dr. Marty says, pressing his elbow into my bicep. Claire is delicately painting polish onto the nails of a five year old little girl. Even through the mask she’s wearing, I can see the smile from a mile away. It’s in her eyes. In the pinkness of her cheeks peeking through.

“Yes, she is.”

“How long until you invite us to the wedding?”

I swallow, suddenly tense. Claire took my breath away with the stunning yellow gown she donned for pediatric cancer—a complete surprise, at that. The thought of her in a wedding dress? That could capsize me.

We aren’t even technically a couple. Though even having her out of mysightsends me into a panic, so I don’t know what I’d do if I saw her in the arms of another man. We have time to define what we are.Timeto figure out the slight mess we’ve placed ourselves in.

After winter break.Afterthese stolen minutes.

Because that’s what we’ve been doing. Stealing time like thieves in the night.

I exhale, long and low, as the date on the calendar taunts me from our return back to reality, one where she’ll be my subordinate again. And what’s worse, the date on the calendar is even closer to the one where she’ll no longer be an employee of River Valley.

She didn’t sign on for the entire school year. She took three back-to-back long-term positions. What’s going to happen when she’s done? Will we drift apart? Or will that be our ticket?

“I’m not sure what the future holds for Claire and I,” I admit. It claws out as a raspy whisper, scraping my esophagus painfully. I hate not knowing. I hate not knowing withClaireeven more.

“Okay,” Dr. Marty scoffs, slapping me on the back. “He’s staring at her like she hung the moon, but he ‘doesn’t know what the future holds.’ June! Come listen to this!”

He chuckles, then stalks off to find his wife, while I steal a moment to watch Claire. The joy that exudes off of her wraps me in a hug from half a football field away. She pretends to blow over the little girls’ nails through her mask, then says something cheerfully and bops her on the nose before ushering her to the next station. When a new customer takes the vacated stool with a nurse’s help, Claire doesn’t miss a beat. She enthusiastically displays the colors, nodding as the little girl chooses a rainbow of colors, and gets right towork. I edge closer, the craving to overhear this conversation a pang in my stomach. But I am interrupted before I can get closer.

“Oh, Marty, you’re right! He issmitten.” Ms. June pinches my cheek, effectively rousing me from the fever walk I was about to take. “Our little boy is growing up!”

I turn to kiss June on the cheek, and shake my head, directing my smile at the ground.

Smittenseems to file itself in that same category as Aaron’s assumption that what I have on Claire is acrush. How do I even begin to describe that the feelings in my heart for her are a wildfire that completely razed the old to replace the new with a bed of wildflowers?

I’m pulled away by Dr. Marty and a few other board members to shake hands with some big donors, and by the time we’re finished, the dinner bell is ringing. Claire joins us, and steals the show at dinner without even meaning to. In fact, she does her best to direct the attention back ontome—highlighting my new role as assistant principal, and the work we’ve been doing with Rocco. She doesn’t even realize the way she can captivate an entire room without even meaning to.

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