Page 31 of False Start

Less than a minute in the classroom, and I'm already overstimulated. There are kids—thirtyof them—gossiping, listening to music without headphones, tossing a Nerf ball back and forth between desks, and generally being as loud as possible.

On the other side of the room, Cory has resumed the statue mode from our first morning together, probably just as shocked to see me here as I was to see him. I send him an awkward wave.

"You'rethe instructor for this class?" Cory asks once I make my way through the chaos. Shock and dismay are written all over his face.

I give him as harsh a glare as I can while students might be watching.

"Yes. And,like you, I had no idea you would be here today. Even so, I could really use your help, since I told Tiffany I couldn't handle more than twenty kids, and she letthirtykids sign up."

I keep my demeanor as professional as possible, despite my internal turmoil. Ireallydon't need personal messiness making this already overwhelming situation worse.

Cory stands straighter, his own professional mask slipping into place.

"Of course. What do you need from me?"

"Do you have any experience working with kids?" I do my best to keep my voice low.

Cory smirks.

"Not a fan of kids?"

I glare again.

"In small doses, yes. I've never done anything like this, though, and it was hard enough to psych myself up fortwentykids."

His face softens.

"I see. Well, a course on fashion design will be a first for me, but I sometimes help my brother, Damon, with the basketball clinics he runs at a rec center in Brooklyn. Those kids can get pretty rowdy."

I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Thank God. OK, I'll just need you to pass out supplies," I gesture to my rolling bag full of sketchbooks and colored pencils, "and step in if anyone gets too loud or unruly."

I list the agenda on my fingers for myself just as much as for Cory.

"We'll do introductions, the class overview, and then I'll share details on the fashion show we're putting on at the end of the term. Then we'll have free drawing time to get started on designs."

Cory nods.

"Totally doable." He waves a hand toward the class. "Take it away, boss."

I take one calming breath, then step to the center of the classroom.

"Good afternoon, everyone." I pause as the students quiet down. "My name is Denise Jeffries, but you may call me Ms. Denise or Ms. D. I'm a fashion designer with experience working with Tory Burch, DKNY, and currently Bailey Maxwell.

"Today is the first day of a sixteen-week workshop on fashion design. In this workshop, each student will pick their inspiration, sketch a design that speaks to them, and finally, sew a piece of clothing that will be modeled at a real fashion show here at the community center!"

Everyone is rapt with attention, excited eyes greeting mine.Here we go…

"Holy shit! I can't believe I did that!" I shout when Cory and I are out of earshot of any stragglers.

Even with the extra students, Cory was the biggest surprise today. Not only did he help pass out materials and keep the students on task, but he gave me time checks so the class wouldn't run over, and then stayed to help me pack up.

He grins broadly as he walks next to me until we reach the entrance to the center.

"Of course you did that. You are clearly amazing at what you do and those kids ate it up. I was impressed."

Reason #8602 to love having dark skin: It hides my ridiculous blushing.

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