Page 14 of Weather the Storm

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out, in case it’s Magnolia. My chest deflates a bit when it’s not her name I see on the screen. Instead it’s my mechanic, Mateo, and he’s texting to let me know my truck is ready to be picked up this evening. I shoot him a message back, letting him know I’ll be there after school. Toggling over to my thread with Magnolia, I begin tapping out a text to her, but my students begin filtering in before I can hit send.

Being a big believer in teaching through actions, I toss my phone into my desk drawer and greet my first class of the day.

“Good morning, world historians. Y’all miss me?” I ask as I stand from my chair and walk around to the front of my desk, where I perch myself on the edge.

“Good morning, Mr. McAllister,” they all echo back.

“For real, y’all miss me?” I ask again, goading them.

“Sure thing, Mr. M!” Desi Reyes sasses at me from her spot in the front row. She’s a smart girl, if a little rebellious.

“Keep it up, Reyes,” I scold her. “I’m stopping by your dad’s shop tonight, and I’d hate to have to tell him you were being a smart aleck in class.”

My words don’t have their intended effect though, because Desi just laughs and tells me, “Wouldn’t be anything new to him!”

“All right, enough of that. Crack open your textbooks to chapter twenty-three—it’s time to learn about a short little Frenchman named Napoléon Bonaparte.”

§

After my last class of the day, I gather the papers I need to take home for grading and retrieve my cell phone from my desk drawer. Without considering why, I find myself dialing the number for the salon.

“It’s a splendiferous afternoon here at Southern Roots. This is Seraphine, how may I help you?”

“By calling your cousin to the phone,” I drawl out, knowing it will get her gears turning.

“Got something you need to say to her?” Seraphine asks, sounding mildly suspicious.

“Sure do.”

She sighs into the phone. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll go get her.”

I hear shuffling and muffled voices before Magnolia’s sweet voice filters through my phone. “Hey, Simon.”

“Magnolia.” I croon her name as a greeting, and I smile like the Cheshire cat when I hear her breathing pick up a little.

“H-hey,” she says, repeating herself.

“Wanted to let you know I’m leaving work and heading to meet Cash so I can pick up my truck. Is Myla Rose still bringing you home?”

“Yeah, she is.” Her tone is so soft, and I can practically close my eyes and see her standing at the front desk of the salon, twirling the phone cord in her fingers while she talks to me, mesmerizing me with that voice of hers.

“Maybe we can all grab dinner?” I ask, hoping things line up to make it possible, hoping they get off in time and Myles and Cash don’t have any other plans.

“I’ll ask Myla Rose and let you know.”

“Sounds good, Goldilocks. See you soon either way.” I end the call and head to the house so I can ditch my dad’s old beater and meet Cash.

To say I’m excited to have my truck back is an understatement of epic proportions. I worked hard and saved long to call that beast of a Ford mine, but being without it for a bit is better than being without Magnolia.That thought causes me to stop short, because,what the hell?As out of left field as it seems, deep down, I know it’s true. There’s just something about her that draws out every protective and possessive instinct I have, which is insane, seeing as we aren’t even dating.

I stay lost in my thoughts until I arrive at the house and find Cash waiting for me in my driveway. I pull the beater around back and tarp it before making my way to his truck. I hear him click the locks as I approach. “Thanks again,” I say as I climb into the passenger seat.

“Not a problem. Man, with how crazy everything has been lately, Myles and I were thinking maybe we could all hit up Azteca’s tonight.”

“It’s like you read my mind—I was just telling Magnolia we should all grab dinner.”

“Tell you what,” Cash says as he reverses down my long driveway, “let’s run to my mom’s and grab Brody, get your truck, and pick the girls up instead of meeting them.”

“Can’t wait those extra ten minutes to see Myles?” I ask, teasing, but also not, because I bet it’s true.

---