Page 43 of Pretty Relentless

Can she hear how loud my heart is pounding right now?

Without saying a word, she goes up on her tiptoes and presses a light kiss on my lips. Before I have an opportunity to respond, she pulls back and grabs her belongings from my hands. Then, she slips inside and shuts the door, leaving me standing on the porch.

I stand here for a few long moments, lost in the memory of that kiss. A smile spreads across my lips as I return to my truck, feeling lighter and full of hope. Just as I’m ready to climb backinto the cab, I spot a silhouette in the window, the one I just installed.

Knowing she’s watching, I slip into my truck and throw it in reverse. You couldn’t peel my smile off my face with a putty knife as I head home from one of the best nights I’ve ever had.

“Best non-date date ever.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ava

I’m securing one of the last few pictures onto my bulletin board at the end of the school day on Friday. The school day ended thirty minutes ago, and most of the staff has headed out for the weekend. My students have been anxious to see the finished bulletin board project with the photos they submitted last weekend.

I only had two not complete the extra credit assignment. One girl didn’t have access to a phone. She seemed embarrassed as she told me her mom was gone Friday night, leaving her at home to watch her seven-year-old little sister, and even though she went outside and wanted to submit a photo, she didn’t have access. I could tell she was upset by her lack of participation, and even though she really doesn’t need the extra credit points, it meant something to her to partake.

That’s when I asked her if she could draw it. Her eyes lit up in a way that gets to me. The disappointment and shame that once filled her blue eyes was gone. She nodded, insisting she could draw the aurora borealis, just as she saw it Friday night, and now that drawing will accompany the rest of the photographs I’ve received and printed, right in the middle of the bulletin board.

Extra credit earned.

The other student flat-out told me Monday morning he didn’t do it. Keeping his interest in the classroom setting is a huge challenge, so asking him to “do schoolwork on Friday” wasn’t in the cards. I appreciate his honesty though, and whilehe could use those extra ten points toward his grade, I can’t force him.

My mind returns to my own Friday night, as it seemed to do an awful lot this last week. I still can’t believe I kissed him. It was…incredible. I might not have a lot of experience when it comes to the opposite sex, but it felt like a pretty amazing moment. Not just the first one, which blew my socks off, but even the light press of our lips together at the very end of our evening. The entire night was unbelievably wonderful, and I didn’t want it to end.

Which is why I’m glad it did.

Even though I was comfortable and enjoyed his company, I was still aware of the fact he’s Annabelle’s father. My student. Yet, as he made me feel at ease as our non-date went on, I knew I was in trouble.

Why?

Because I wanted it to be a date.

It felt like a real one too.

That’s why I’ve tried to avoid him this week, but considering he’s finishing up my roof, it’s been a little difficult. He’s still there, wrapping things up, when I get home from work. Whether it’s intentional or not, I’m unsure, but Max is usually gone and Gavin’s packing up the last of their tools when I pull into my driveway.

Perhaps that’s why I’m still here.

Delaying my return home, hoping he’s already gone. Which sucks, because I really want to see him.

When the last photo is hung, I pull the last few pictures from the envelope. The ones I slipped in in a moment of weakness Sunday evening when I submitted my online picture printing order. The shots Gavin texted me once he got home Friday night. The selfies of us, standing super close with the gorgeous view of the night sky behind us.

I dissect the picture. Everything from the intimate way we’re standing to the genuine smiles on our faces. Our noses and cheeks are red, and we’re both wearing enough layers of clothing and winter gear to the point we resemble marshmallows, but the overall picture is serenity. We look so…natural and happy.

So coupley.

And it’s really conflicting to feel this way about him when I’ve been doing everything in my power not to.

“Hey, that looks great.”

I glance up with a startle, almost dropping the photos in my hand. Evelyn Valero, the second-grade teacher, is standing in my doorway with a friendly smile and her bag thrown over her shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you.”

I wave it off. “It’s fine. I was lost in my own world,” I tell her, taking the photos over to my desk and slipping them into the top drawer.

She steps inside my classroom and looks over the bulletin board. “This really turned out great. The students took all the photos?”

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