Page 97 of When We Burn

“I haven’t seen her much over the last week or so, but she’s good. She had a run-in with a parent last week. The mom of some kid came into her class and accused Dani of trying to force-feed the kid sugar. Apparently, the kid had never had sugar before and asked Dani for a snack from her snack closet, and she gave it to him. He discovered the beautiful world of sugar, and the mom wasnothappy.”

“Did Dani get into trouble for that?”

“No, because the mom didn’t put it in her son’s paperwork that he’s not allowed to have sweet treats. She just trusted him to know better.”

“How did Dani do standing up for herself?” Brooks’s eyes soften.

“She told the mom that if she had a problem with the snacks in her closet, maybe she should contribute to the stash so her son had things to eat during the day.”

“Good going, Dani.”

“Right? I was proud of her. Are you going to see Mom and Dad tonight?”

“Nah, I’ll have a late night here tonight, but I’ll catch up with them tomorrow. You?”

“I’ll see what Dani wants to do.”

Brooks grins at me. “She’s just running the show now, huh?”

“It’s considerate to take her wants and needs into consideration, you jerk face.”

Brooks laughs and then passes me Dani’s keys. “It’s parked out front. I’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, man.”

Dani will be finished with school in just a little while, and given I haven’t seen her much lately, I’m hoping that she votes to stay home. I thought I’d get some good takeout for my girls, watch a movie, and then after Birdie goes to bed, I’m going to fuck my woman senseless for most of the night.

It’s a solid plan.

Chapter Eighteen

DANI

Today has sucked.

Badly.

It might have been the worst day of my teaching career so far, and while I know that six school years into said career isn’t a lot, it’s enough to know the worst day ever, and this was it.

It’s Friday, and that’s my only saving grace.

Because betweentwokids messing their pants, one kid deciding to be a cannibal and bite three students before I could stop her, and a parent who demanded to know why I’m not teaching her child multiplication—they’re five, ma’am—I’m ready to forget that I’m a teacher at all.

“Are you excited to see your grandma and grandpa?” I ask Birdie as she slips her hand into mine, and we walk outside for after-school pickup.

“Yeah, we’re going apple picking tomorrow,” shesays. “And maybe even go to the punkin patch on Sunday.”

“That’ll be a fun weekend. Did you know that I know how to make apple butter?”

“You do?” Birdie grins up at me, her eyes going wide. “What is that, anyway?”

“It’s something delicious to spread on toast or biscuits or just about anything. I’ll make us some. Do you want to help?”

“Definitely.”

She nods, making me smile, and now the day is starting to melt away, and even I’m looking forward to the weekend with Bridger and his family.

“Birdie!”

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