Page 98 of Hate You, Maybe
“You managed to keep your lips to yourself for the past three years.”
“That’s only because you were covered in barbed wire.”
She scrunches her nose. Man, this woman is adorable. “I guess I did have some defenses up.”
“And hand grenades ready to lob.”
“Sorry about that,” she chirps.
“You don’t sound sorry,” I chuckle.
“Anyway, once you’ve moved over to Harvest High everything will be easier.”
This part catches me off guard, but I try not to miss a step. “Huh.” I rub at my beard. “Why is me leaving Stony Peak a part of the equation?”
“Because once you’re at the other school, you won’t technically be my coworker anymore.”
“And that matters because …”
“Because not dating colleagues is a boundary I set years ago. After my mom … Well. You know. I’m sure you understand, after everything I went through.” She takes a beat. “What I’mgoingthrough. Her workplace drama still wreaks havoc on my life. And anyway, next semester’s only a couple months away.” She smirks. “Surely you can control yourself until then.”
I clear my throat and pick up the pace. I’m not prepared to discuss my future plans right now. Especially since they don’t include a job change.
Sayla skips along next to me, trying to keep up as we approach the building, so I slow down and hold the door for her. “After you,” I say.
“Thank you, kind sir.” She curtseys, and I ignore the tightness in my chest as we make our way down the hall.
We’re almost to Wilford’s office when he pokes his head out the door. “Thought I heard you two.” He gestures for us to join him, and we head inside, settling into the same seats we took the day he told us we’d be going to Camp Reboot. That feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few weeks. Still, so much has changed between Sayla and me since then. And I’m grateful for everything that’s happened. For what might still grow between us. I can only hope she’s willing to reconsider her stance when she finds out I’m not transferring schools.
“I was glad to see you were both still on campus,” Mr. Wilford says, sinking into his chair. “But I’m not surprised. You’ve really gone above and beyond these past few weeks. I’m very grateful to you both.”
I cut a look at Sayla and offer her a quick nod.Yep. He brought us in to thank us.
“I wanted to talk to you about something else before next week,” he says.
“Is this about the grant?” she asks. “I thought you weren’t going to make any announcements until after the visitation.”
“Yes, well. I wanted to give you both time to process my decision.”
She leans forward, expectantly, one hand on her knee, the other holding a clipboard. I can practically feel the energy vibrating off her, and my pulse picks up, too. Wilford officially informing Sayla that her department will get the money should go a long way toward reminding her where my priorities lie.
Yes, I want to stay at Stony Peak. But I can still put her first in other ways. I have already. And this will be the best reminder.
“As you know, this choice hasn’t been an easy one,” Wilford says. His hands are folded on his belly, and I notice the button above his belt is undone.
Heh. Full circle.
“A lot was riding on my decision. Not just for the future of this school, but for my future with the district. As principal, it’s my job to demonstrate the abilityandwillingness to do whatever it takes to make Stony Peak thrive. The home of the Gray Squirrels is my baby, so to speak. I’m this school’s parent. And being a parent sometimes means having to make difficult choices. Especially when the alternative is getting sent to Vista Middle School.”
“Right. No tweens for you,” I say.
Wilford grimaces. “Perish the thought.”
“We appreciate how hard this has been for you,” Sayla chimes in. “And I think I speak for Dexter as well when I say we’re both prepared to respect your decision. Whatever it is.”
“Yes.” I bob my head. “Of course. Exactly what she said.”
Wilford lifts a hand, tugs at his tie. “I’d been hoping Bob and Hildy would weigh in after the retreat, but they were—frankly—useless.”
