Page 52 of Confessions of a High School Guidance Counselor

Cohen

Even though I knew I’d see her tomorrow, I couldn’t stop thinking about Birdie. With the bar taken care of and Ollie at his mother’s and the house hunt on pause, there weren’t a lot of things to keep me busy. It wasn’t even late enough to go to bed.

A small thought popped into my head as I filled the watering can to take care of Ollie’s plants.

Could she be thinking of me too?

Just the hope from that thought made me get out my phone and send her a text.

It was simple, just a hello, but if she was up to talk, I could be too.

Birdie: Hey. How are you?

Setting down the can, I went to the couch and sat down, thinking of that first night she’d been at my house. And hoping, someday, she could spend the night again. This time, in my arms.

Cohen: Good. I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.

I tried not to overthink what I would say, but I still read the message twice before hitting send. Birdie wasn’t only kind and interesting. She was smart. I wanted to make sure my words were spelled correctly and the right punctuation was in place.

Birdie: Still no word on what we’re doing?

Cohen: You’ll see. :) How was your night?

Birdie: I helped my SIL paint her nursery.

Not knowing was SIL meant made me feel old as hell. I googled it real quick before replying.

Cohen: When is she having her baby?

Birdie: She’s due in ten weeks. And of course she couldn’t wait for my brother to take care of it.

Cohen: Those nesting hormones are intense. I remember staying up until two in the morning one night because Ollie’s bed HAD to be put together. Never mind that she wasn’t even in the third trimester.

Birdie: That’s so sweet.

Cohen: You should have heard me complaining. You’d change your mind.

Birdie: Haha. Maybe.

She hadn’t asked a question and I found myself more nervous than before. What did I say to her? How could I keep things interesting?

Birdie: Hey, I’m driving if you want to call.

My lips split into a grin. Of course I wanted to call. I got off the couch, pacing for a moment before dialing her number. I didn’t want to seem to eager. Even though I definitely was.

After a couple of rings, she answered. She must have been connected to her car’s Bluetooth because I could hear the rumbling of wind in the background.

“Hey,” she said. “Thanks for calling. I couldn’t sit in my brother’s driveway texting for too long without raising suspicion.”

I chuckled. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

She seemed shy as she replied, “It’s good to hear yours too.”

Damn if I didn’t smile. “How was work this week?”

“It was good. I had a few really good meetings with students, and Pam Alexander hasn’t threatened to have me fired, so I consider that a win.”

A protective instinct rose within me. “Pam wants to have you fired?”

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