Page 31 of Connectio
“Dylan, my man.” Will winks at him.
“I brought my boxing gloves for Show and Tell today.”
“Nice!” They bump fists as we walk by.
“Class!” Oliver snaps. “Pay attention.”
“This way.” I motion to the back of the room, a little shocked that Will actually “teaches” boxing.
Will fires Oliver a weird look and murmurs, “What crawled up Colonel Mustard’s arse?”
I burst out laughing then quickly cover my mouth, remembering I’m a professional educator and that his comment is inappropriate.
“We’re interrupting his lesson. It’s hard enough getting the kids’ full attention without a new face in the room.”
“Maybe the kids should learn some basic plumbing.”
“They’re not here to learn basic plumbing.”
His toolbox lands on the ground by his feet with a thud, and I’m surprised by the sound; it didn’t look that heavy when he was carrying it.
“So”—he inspects the broken tap—“run by me what happened, step by step.”
“Well, the faucet has been leaking for a few weeks now—”
“Weeks?”
“Yeah.”
He huffs. “How bad?”
“Not bad, but it was worse this morning.”
“Gushing or dripping?”
My cheeks heat at his words, and I’m almost unable to answer. “Uh… dripping. A lot. Almost a steady stream.”
His eyes lower to my damp chest, so I cross my arms again.
“Then what happened?” he prompts, clearing his throat.
“Oliver. I mean, Mr Bunt—”
“Mr who?”
I bite my lip to stop from smiling.
I fail.
“Bunt… with a B.”
“Right.” Will’s eyes bulge before he blinks. “Mr B-unt did what?”
“He turned on the tap, and it broke off in his hand, and then water flew out like a fire hydrant.”
Will looks over at Oliver then back at me. “Did he get changed already?”
“No. He avoided the spray. I didn’t.”
