Page 11 of The Invite
“Greta is rude to everyone,” he says with a friendly smile. “You’ll get used to her.”
“Sounds impossible,” I reply.
“I’ve heard imagining her as Greta the witch with a pointy nose helps.”
A bubbly laugh slips past my lips, making him grin.
Rounding his desk, he approaches me. I have to hide a frightful tremor rolling down my back when I stare into his blue eyes. They’re kind and pleasant rather than the evil light I looked into last night.
Could it be him?
I scoff inwardly. I’m just projecting my fears. It’s not that uncommon to have blue eyes. He also doesn’t even sound the same.
“I’m Ace Melrose,” he introduces himself. “I’m the math teacher here.”
“I’m Nessa Davenport,” I reply, pushing down my worry. “I’ll be teaching English lit.”
“Are you new in town?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“No,” he chuckles before explaining, “Fallthorne is a small town. I would’ve run into you in the three years I’ve been living here.”
“That small?”
“Yes.” Tilting his head, he asks, “When is your first class? I hope Greta showed you to the seniors’ wing, which is in the opposite tower.”
My face deadpans, giving me away. I was so off-put by her attitude, secretly wanting the tour to end, that I completely forgot to ask the way to my class.
“Something tells me it slipped from her mind on purpose.”
“You’d be right. Don’t worry, I’ll help and give you a proper tour, if you’d like,” he offers. “The halls here can be confusing to a newbie.”
“I would appreciate that.” I pass him my schedule, noticing his eyes squint the same way mine did. “Is it peculiar I’m only teaching a single class?”
He glances up, masking his expression. “Have you taught before?”
“No. I recently finished my teaching degree.”
“That’s it then. You’re also filling in for Mrs. Perry, who was sixty and only taught one class. Trust me, you’ll still be plenty busy.”
“I hope so,” I mutter under my breath.
He hears it. “Don’t like being alone?”
“Something like that.”
His face softens in understanding. “Our classes are in the same building in the second period. I’ll take you there.”
“Thank you.” After he returns my schedule, I excuse myself. “I’ll, uh… get settled in.”
“Okay, Nessa.”
The way he says my name sends a tingle down my spine. The good kind. One I haven’t felt in ages. Maybe starting over won’t be so bad, after all.
CHAPTER – 4
Nessa
