Page 59 of The Hallows Queen

He sits, then holds a hand towards me. “Great to meet you.”

Clasping his hand, I find his eyes and return his smile. “Likewise.”

Flipping the box of pizza open, Lucy gives me a sympathetic look. “How’s your first day going?”

A few more people trickle into the lounge, but no one else sits at the table we’re occupying. I give Lucy a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Lawrence laughs, biting into a slice of pizza. “That bad?”

Lucy chuckles. “Lawrence works in the office. If he was more polite, he would have introduced himself, but I think he’s gotten used to me being his buffer.”

“Because you like to talk,” Lawrence says around his food.

I laugh, admiring how close they seem. They move together like friends, like they’ve known each other a long time. “Lucy, I don’t think you told me what you teach.”

“Oh,” she says, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder so it doesn’t hang in her food. “Math.”

“Wow, impressive,” I say, my lips tipping down in the corners.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “I’m the cheerleading coach too. Bet you didn’t think those two things could go together, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I laugh, and she sends me a wink.

We fall into conversation, and they offer me some pizza, and before I know it, I’ve traded phone numbers with both of them. It feels nice to make friends, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders when I realize maybe I can fit into this role after all.

Just as long as Hayden Monroe keeps his mouth shut.

* * *

The final bellof the day rings overhead, and the students in our last class all stand in unison, eager to get out of school. Mrs. Justice made it obvious we have a pop quiz to create tonight, so I don’t stand when everyone else does.

Once the room has cleared, I drag my chair over to Mrs. Justice’s desk, and we start on the quiz.

An hour later, we’ve finalized the questions, and I’ve typed them up on my computer. I print a copy, and then show it to Mrs. Justice.

She takes the paper, reads it over, and nods her head at me before handing it back.

Before I can turn around, she speaks.

“How was your first day, Penelope?”

The question catches me off guard because I didn’t expect her to care. I didn’t expect her to ever talk to me about anything other than class stuff, so I stumble over my response.

“I – Um, it was good.” I smile, and it feels fake. I’m exhausted, ready to head home and climb into a bath with a glass of wine.

Her gaze trails along my face before she speaks again. “It will get easier.”

The sentence almost makes my eyes well with tears. There’s something so beautiful about an angry, unpleasant person showing compassion, and even though she doesn’t know the real reason my day was such a suckfest, her words hit home.

I clear my throat. “Thank you, Mrs. Justice.”

She narrows her eyes a little. “You can call me Barbara.”

“Oh.” My brows shoot up to my hairline. “Okay –Barbara.”

She takes a breath and places her hands on top of one another on her desk. “You did well today, Penelope. Even when some students were disruptive, or made it seem like you were small, I was impressed with your composure.”

She isn’t wrong, and I didn’t realize she would have noticed the little things students did throughout the day that were meant to make me feel inferior – mentioning how young I am, commenting about my looks, refusing to learn my name. Barbara may be more observant than I originally thought.

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