Page 175 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

“You did. I’m incredibly proud of you. Now, I have one more question and it’s really important, okay?”

He nods once, his chin almost hitting his chest.

“You know how we’re always talking about our learning journey?”

Another exaggerated nod. “Ah-huh.”

“What wouldyoulike to learn more about this year? It can be anything.”

His fine brows pull together, and he chews on the nail of his index finger. Lucas points at my rounded stomach. “How about how the baby got in there?”

Sweet Jesus, no.

Ms Masters coughs. Our eyes meet. She looks like a stunned animal in the face of an oncoming truck.

“How about something to do with technology?” I propose. “I know you’ve been reading about air travel.”

“Ooh,” he says. “I like drones. I wanna know how they fly.”

“Great choice,” Ms Masters says.

I jot down his suggestion. “I agree.” It’s the way of the future, with deliveries, disaster assistance, and all sorts of things. Who knows what air travel will look like in another decade when Lucas is old enough to decide on his career? Talk of flying cars will probably be a reality by then.

“Why did you write it?” Lucas asks.

“As you know, I’ll be leaving school a few weeks before the end of the year, and I want to give your lovely new teacher a special list to make sure they cover all the fabulous things you want to learn, of course.” There will be some tears when I leave, both from me and the students, but I hope this will help them finish off the year on a positive note.

He fist-pumps the air. “Yes!”

I love his enthusiasm. I direct my focus to Ms Masters. Her stare softens. “Is there anything you would like to discuss?”

She takes in a deep breath and releases it with a shake of her head. “No. You’ve been very thorough. I appreciate it.”

“Okay, if there’s nothing else, I’ll let you and Spiderman go.”

Lucas laughs as his mother stands. She places her hands on his shoulders. “If you like you can get a drink from the water bubblers outside while I say goodbye to Miss Rosehill.”

I hold up my hand, anticipating the high-five all my students give me when they leave the classroom at the end of the day.

“Sure!” Lucas doesn’t disappoint, running around the table and slapping my palm before darting towards the door. He makes a shooshing sound, motioning with his hands as if he’s shooting web from them.

My hips ache as I rise from the small seat.

“I feel I was harsh when we first spoke.” Ms Masters hooks her arm through the short straps of her black handbag, so it rests in the crook of her elbow.

Um... What the hell do I say to that?

“I misjudged you, and I’m sorry for that,” she continues. “I thought because you were new to teaching that you wouldn’t be a good fit. Turns out you’ve been just the guide my son needed.”

Say what?

“T-thank you.”

“It’s been a hard year with his father. He’s basically ignored him, but despite the crap going on in our family, one thing has remained constant for Lucas. School. All the extra reading and spelling challenges have kept him occupied. He adores you, gets up in the morning with a spring in his step. He was beyond excited to dress up for you this afternoon.”

My chest tightens with memories of divorce. At least I was older and could understand what was happening. At the age of seven, it’d feel like the world was crumbling beneath your feet. Kids need stability and routine, and I’m so proud I gave him that in the classroom. “He’s a sweet kid. A pleasure to have in the class.”

Her rose-tinted lips stretch to accommodate a genuine smile. “Thank you. This year could’ve been a lot harder on him.” She extends her hand.

---