Page 89 of The Games We Play
Spark looks down at my favorite student. “Spark.”
“That’s not your real name,” Jadyn says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of me, my little protector. My heart melts at the gesture.
“Just because it’s unusual, doesn’t mean it isn’t a real name. We have so many meaningful names in our school, right?” I say.
Jadyn nods solemnly.
“You’re right. My real name is Tyler.”
Harry steps out from behind Thema. “Are your tattoos all real?”
Spark glances down at his hands, where I see a new tattoo. An iris. And my heart melts all over again. “Sure thing. Any other questions?”
Before I know it, we’re surrounded by my kids.
“There’s a kid in grade two who bullies Dylan on the playground,” Thema offers, placing her arm around Dylan’s shoulders.
Spark looks at the eager eyes looking up at him and crouches down. “But you guys have got Dylan’s back, right? Look out for him and shit because—”
“Language,” I remind Spark.
“Oh, Miss O’Connor just told you off.” Jadyn laughs.
“Sorry,” Spark says. “I shouldn’t say that word in front of you. But you all have Dylan’s back, right? You can be your own club. You all look strong and fierce. I bet you could teach that grade two kid a lesson.”
I raise an eyebrow in Spark’s direction. “Or you can just come tell a teacher or adult, and we can sort it out.”
Spark nods. “Or you can tell a teacher or adult.”
“Did you ever beat someone up?” Dylan asks quietly.
“Only when they needed it.”
Archer places his hand on Spark’s arm through the railing. “Do you like vegetables? Because I hate carrots.”
Spark is no longer glancing at me; he’s looking directly at the kids as he gags. “Bleurgh. Love corn and potatoes, but hate anything green.”
The kids laugh and gag with him.
“Do you love Miss O’Connor?” Shanice asks.
Spark stands at this question and places his hand through the railing to cup my cheek. “Doyouall love her?”
With squeals and lots of jumping, they yell yes. It squeezes my heart in the tightest of holds.
“Yeah, well, I love her too.” His voice is deep, gravel filled.
“Are you going to marry her?” Thema asks.
“You don’t need to answer that,” I say, jumping in quickly.
“Maybe I want to.”
I rub my fingers over the lilac ink. “Maybe I already know.”
He runs his tongue over his lip before biting down on it, his eyes full of heat for me. I grin like a fool until Spark bends down and picks up my lunch bag. “You’ve got your own little club. You guys are loyal. Smart. I saw the way you stood in front of Miss O’Connor, kid.” He looks down at Jadyn. “Brave move, given I’m a big guy. I respect that. And you”—he points to Thema—“looking out for your friends is the most important lesson you can learn in life, and you already learned it.”
“What about me?” Archer asks.
