Page 6 of Burn It Down

“It’s going to be a great year, Elijah. I’m looking forward to having you in class.”

He just nods, taking his dad’s hand, and Kade looks bewildered before he finally says good bye, and they leave my classroom.

I barely make it back to my chair before flopping down into it, pulling a deep breath into my lungs, which feels like my first breath since Kade and his son walked into my classroom.

It’s not the first time I’ve had a former classmate with a child in my class, but it’s the first one that knocked me on my ass.

It’s going to be a long school year.

CHAPTER THREE

“Do you remember Spencer Bell?” I ask my brother as I pop a piece of cucumber into my mouth while he prepares a salad for dinner. A salad. I swear that’s as weird as the tea the other night, but I guess he does take his health seriously, being a firefighter and all.

“No?” he says it like a question as he swats my hand away from grabbing another veggie. “Should I?”

I shrug. “We went to school with him. He was in my class, but it was a small school. So I thought maybe you would.”

It’s clear my brother is thinking hard, and it’s pretty comical. “I don’t know. Doesn’t ring a bell. Why?”

I shrug, looking over at my son, who’s watching YouTube on the television in the living room, and then look back at Bowen. “Ran into him yesterday.”

Bowen laughs and then moves to the stove to stir the pasta he’s making for dinner. I have to say working at the firehouse has been good for my brother. Apparently, he likes to cook meals there, and it’s carried over to home, now that Elijah and I live here with him. “Yeah, it’s a small town, man. That’s going tohappen a lot. Hell, I lucked out and actually get to work with my best friend. He lives two blocks from me.”

To say Will and Bowen are codependent as fuck would be an understatement, and they always have been. Even after Will got married. I just shake my head at my brother. “Yeah well, Spencer is Elijah’s teacher.”

“Oh.” He puts the spoon down and turns to look at me. “Guess that’s bound to happen too. Were you friends?”

I shake my head, thinking about the kid I grew up with. He was quiet, and to be honest, I didn’t recognize him at first, but there was something in his expression that was familiar to me. “Not really. He was one of the smart kids, I think.”

He snorts. “You definitely weren’t friends with him then.”

I toss a cucumber piece at my brother, and he catches it in his mouth without fail. “As if you can talk.”

“Nope,” he says, swallowing the bite of cucumber. “Never did get along with the nerds.”

I bristle at that. Where I was kind of a loner and a total shithead in school, my big brother was a shithead in his own right. The big, boisterous, loud-mouthed jock. “He’s not a nerd.”

Bowen’s right eyebrow lifts in question, and I clear my throat, realizing I probably need to chill. I’m not sure why seeing Spencer jolted me so much yesterday, but it was his attitude toward me that really got to me. “Why are we talking about him so much?”

I roll my eyes and grab the bowl of salad, walking to the small table and placing it in the middle. “He’s Elijah’s new teacher. Why wouldn’t I talk about him?”

Bowen grabs plates out of the cabinet and starts dishing pasta out onto them. “I don’t know. But you’re acting weird.”

“Elijah, dinner,” I call to my son as I walk over to Bowen, taking two of the plates from him. “I’m not acting weird. It was just strange. It was like he hated me.”

“Hated you?” Bowen seems genuinely surprised by that. “Did you do something to him? Oh shit.” His eyes widen. “Did I?”

I actually hadn’t thought about that—but I mean, it would make sense. Like I said, Bowen was a total shithead in high school. “I don’t know, did you?”

He frowns as we make our way over to the table, and I place a plate in front of Elijah, who must have been hungry because he immediately digs in. “What does he look like?”

I think about the man I met yesterday—he’s not as tall as I am, but he’s definitely grown since the last time I saw him. He’s not a massive guy, but he’s bulked up too—all lean and gangly muscle. His hair is the same light-brown shade, but he’s let it grow out a little. His eyes are chocolate-brown with little specs of gold.Phew. I don’t know why the hell I noticed that. He still wears glasses, but somehow, it was like he grew into them, and they highlight his features instead of hiding them.

“He looks different now,” I say as I take a seat across from my son with my own plate in front of me. “But in high school, he was pretty small and skinny. Large black-rimmed glasses and brown hair and eyes.”

Bowen takes a seat, deep in thought. “I don’t think I did anything to him. I wasn’t a bully.”

I give him a long look as if to saythat’s bullshit—though I don’t think he really was. He was obnoxious, but I don’t think he ever relentlessly teased anyone or tried to make anyone’s life hell. “Well, he’s not a fan of me,” I say, taking a bite.

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