Page 7 of The ABCs of You & Me

They wish me a good night in unison, in perfect harmony as always. No love story has ever made my heart as happy as Marley and Bennett’s, and it feels nice to have been a part of it, even if it was incredibly minor. I once had a brief spark of hope that I had found my own love story with Gregory, only to realize there was no love there to build a story with. Now I’m back to thinking about that fucking gala again.

My phone lights up as I’m getting ready for bed, and I see Cass’s name pop up in my notifications.

Cass

A little birdy told me you and Foster are now coworkers.

Was that little birdy Foster?

Foster is anything but a little birdy. He’s a sturdy birdy—a very sturdy, very nice to look at kind of birdy.

It may have been! I didn’t know you were going to be at the same school!

I didn’t even know he worked in the city.

Yeah for like 4 years. Have I never told you that?

Not even once.

Well surprise he lives and works there! It’s not fair that he gets to see you all the time.

You could always find a job down here. I’m sure there are loads of businesses looking for good communications people!

I love you, I like Foster, but I am not leaving Bennett’s to move to some smelly-ass city to work some corporate job!

Speaking of Bennett, I saw the reel then had to immediately call them. Why didn’t you tell me?

Exciting eh? I was sworn to secrecy. You should see them though, B was already a doting husband but holy shit it took some convincing that M could walk to the barn without him right next to her.

Well considering how she was when they first met this doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s a caretaker by nature. Things should be fun!

Indeed!

I’ve gotta go, we’ve got a new litter and they are getting hungry!

Night!

Today may have been my first day, but tomorrow is when I actually get to work, and when I get into bed, I do my best to mentally plan. But the second I envision the orange folder sitting on my desk, planning goes out the window. I end up thinking about a certain redhead who, even after all these years, still sets my heart racing.

I bet Foster has a life. He probably met up with friends to do something fun tonight. He was always surrounded by a big group of people and was never short on women vying for his attention. Maybe I could ask him to come to that stupid gala with me. He’s the complete opposite of Gregory, he’d be a nice distraction, and no one from my academic life knows who he is. Unless he’s dating someone, which he probably is, but I could ask. The worst he can say is no, which would leave me no worse off than I am now. Although a no would be humiliating and I’d have to see him every day knowing he didn’t want to accompany me to an event and I’d end up spiraling trying to figure out what it is about me that made him say no.

I could sell it as a night out with an open bar and free food. I just have to think positively. If I ask him to go with me as a friend, he’s going to say yes. He’s going to say yes because he’s the kind of guy who, at fourteen years old, tied the skates of his sister’s friend because her arm was in a cast then skated beside her for an hour in case she fell. The kind of guy who drove us to the mall with a smile on his face the first day he had his license. The type of man who becomes an EA, gets woozy at the sight of blood, and shares his lunch with flustered forgetful coworkers.He will say yes,I repeat until I drift off.

FOUR

FOSTER

I stifle another yawn as I stand in front of Sophie’s office. I got to school early, wanting to make sure I had time to adequately thank her for what she did for me yesterday, but I seem to have forgotten that me being early doesn’t make anyone else early. Now here I stand shifting from foot to foot, holding a Christmas tin full of chocolate chip cookies, practicing how to say thank you like a normal person whose breath isn’t immediately stolen away by the other person.

I’ve lived so much between the last time I had seen Sophie and now, but I may as well be sixteen again.

When she finally comes around the corner, her head is bent as she searches for something in her bag. Just before she reaches me, she throws her head back, mouths a word that has no place in these halls, and turns, retreating in the direction she had just come from. Checking my watch, I see I’ve got about eight minutes before I need to be outside to greet my students so I stay where I am. I just have to hand the tin over, I don’t need to stick around making small talk.

Five minutes later, Sophie scurries around the corner again, this time seeing me immediately. I won’t pretend the smile I get from her doesn’t do things to my insides. Saying hi seems inadequate. She deserves more than a two-letter greeting.

“Morning, sunshine!” comes flying out of my mouth before I even realize what I’ve just said.

She blinks back in surprise. “I haven’t been called sunshine in years.”

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