Page 16 of When You Left Me Speechless

“Sure, what’s going on?”

“On Tuesdays, I meet with a group of kids in the cafeteria. We work on social skills, eat donuts, and play games,” she explains.

“Sure, that sounds like fun. What time?”

“Seven. It only lasts about thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll be there. Is there anything else I can help you with before I head out?” I ask, secretly hoping she’ll say nothing and I will be free to go.

“I could really use your help with these.” She hands me a bunch of laminated therapy materials.

“Of course.” I smile through the exhaustion and grab a pair of scissors.

“So, how did you like your first day?”

“It was unexpected.” That’s the truth, right? Today was definitely very unexpected.

“How so?”

“I didn’t expect to like it so much.” I lie because the honest answer is I may have fucked Mr. Peterson, but I can’t remember,and he was the last person I ever thought I would see at Pecan Grove Elementary.

“That’s so great. I know we weren’t your first choice, but I really think you’re going to love it here.”

“I think I will. The students seem awesome.”

“They are, and so are the staff. If you ever have a question, anyone will be more than willing to help.” She pauses for a minute to cut out the ears on a picture of a small cat. “I mean, on this hall, you have me, Mr. Peterson, Mrs. Smith…”

“Mr. Peterson is onthishall?” The question escapes before I can stop it.

“Yep, he’s three doors down.” She gestures to the left. “He’s awesome. I think you're really going to like getting to know him.”

“Cool.” I try to stifle the anxiety that has my whole body feeling like it’s on fire. “He seemed great.”

“Hey,Sis, how was your first day? Beth’s awesome, isn’t she?” Olive’s voice comes through my phone speaker as I walk into my empty apartment.

“Oh yeah, she seemed cool. Thanks again for helping me get in with her.”

“So, tell me all about it.”

“It was fine. I went to an IEP meeting and met a bunch of the kids. Not much to tell, really.”

“Okay, how was the IEP meeting? I know those can be intimidating.”

I walk into my room, and I see it. The absolutely ridiculous shirt I brought home from Logan’s. It is sitting on the top of my hamper, almost like it’s taunting me. I grab it and shove it in a drawer.That’s better. Out of sight, out of mind.

“It was fine. Look, I really want to talk, but I need to study, so maybe we can catch up later in the week.”

“Oh, okay. You okay? You sound distracted.”

“I’m fine.”Definitely not distracted by the hot teacher who works three doors down from the speech office.“Just really tired and have a lot of studying to get done.”

“Okay, if you’re sure?” She hesitates like she thinks I might tell her what’s going on with me. When I don’t, she continues, “Proud of you. I know you’re going to kill it.”

“Thanks. Love you.” I hang up, fall backward onto my bed, and silently scream.Logan Peterson is going to be a problem.

CHAPTER 8: PAPER, MAYBE?

POPPY

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