Page 27 of The Lilac River

Her tight smile cracked just slightly. She gave a half-shrug, like I was a lost cause. "Your funeral."

My heart clenched at the old familiar ache she stirred up. The not-good-enough, poor-kid-in-hand-me-downs ache. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. And I refused to let Monica Patterson’s scorn twist me up again.

Two soft knocks sounded on the open door. Monica and I both turned to see a woman standing there with a bright, easy smile and long dark hair cascading in waves to her waist. She wore rolled-up jeans, and a red-and-white check shirt knotted at her waist, the picture of relaxed confidence.

"Hey there!" she chirped, waving enthusiastically. "I’m Cassidy. Just popping over to say hello."

Monica made a noise like she might choke on her own disdain and shoved past me, brushing my shoulder a little too hard on her way out. Cassidy stepped aside, flattening herself dramatically against the wall to let her pass.

"Jeez," Cassidy said under her breath once Monica had stalked off, "that woman’s ass is so tight she must have trouble shitting."

A bark of laughter escaped before I could stop it. I slapped a hand over my mouth. "God, sorry.”

Cassidy grinned. "Don’t be. That woman’s universally hated by the staff. I’m surprised she doesn’t melt when she walks through the halls."

She stepped closer and stuck out her hand. "Cassidy Turner, fourth grade, across the hall."

"Lily Gray, third grade," I replied, shaking her hand.

"Oh, let’s not be formal," she said brightly. Without warning, she pulled me into a hug. "We’re friends now."

I couldn’t help smiling back. Cassidy's warmth was like stepping into sunlight after a long winter.

"It’s good to have a friend," I admitted. "It’s been a long time since I lived here. Most of my old friends moved away."

"Well, that’s settled," she said, clapping her hands. "Friday night, after we survive the first week, we’re going out."

"If we survive," I joked.

"We will," she said confidently, poking my arm. "Best dresses, tequila at Downtown Bar & Grill, maybe a little dancing, and... well, the pickings are slim here, but hey, a girl's gotta have hope."

It sounded more like a decree than an invitation. And oddly, I liked that.

"That sounds great," I said, meaning it.

"Perfect!" she beamed. "Okay, twenty minutes until the chaos starts. Good luck, though you won’t need it. They’re a good bunch."

And with a wink, she practically skipped out.

I was still smiling when the first footsteps thundered down the hallway.

The room quickly filled with gleaming faces and nervous excitement. I perched on the edge of my desk, watching them settle, my heart swelling unexpectedly.

I belonged here. That certainty, so fragile the night before, clicked into place like a puzzle piece.

The students sat up straight, their clothes clean, hair neatly combed, faces beaming with hope and curiosity. I asked eachto stand and tell me something interesting about themselves. It was a way to ease the nerves, theirs and mine.

One by one they stood: pets, siblings, weird talents. I scribbled notes as quickly as I could, trying to match names to faces.

A small boy shoved his hands deep into his pockets and grinned a gap-toothed grin. "I'm Zak. We got two dogs named Batman and Robin, and a cat named Catwoman."

The class giggled. I grinned back. "Thank you, Zak."

Before I could call the next student, a little girl bounced to her feet.

"I'm Roberta!" she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other. "But I like Bertie. Except Grandpa calls me Roberta. One time he said, 'Roberta Louise, get those dirty sneakers off,' and Daddy gave him this look..." She mimed it dramatically. "Anyway, my interesting fact is—wait, I have two!"

She held up two fingers, beaming.

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