Page 11 of Sol
Dani -- Class list
“Mierda,”Ihissed.
“What, Dani?” asked Lulu in her rich, low voice, speaking in my ear. I pressed the cell to my still-wet cheek while rivulets of water slithered down my legs to the cool tile floor, a small sea foam green bath towel barely covering my skin. Drip, drip went the drops of water from the ends of my almost white-blondhair.
My breath went somewhere. Not sure where, but it was absent. Gone. Knocked out of me. My hands started shaking. It was all I could do not to drop the phone. My jaw dropped while my eyebrows went sky high. Look up the termgobsmackedin the dictionary, and you’d see mypicture.
Gobsmacked (adjective):see alsoDanika Anderson. Astonished Spanish teacher/yogi/bohemian/ex-patriot.
Good thing I’d taken my yoga class this morning. Downward dog, check, and a half-dozen other asanas, check. A regular practice of meditative poses kept me calm whenever I was surprised likethis.
Yeah,right.
I was so excited I didn’t know what to think. As I stared at the website, a shiver went through me, like when you ignite lines of gunpowder. Did this mean what I thought it meant? Was he really taking myclass?
Two minutes ago, I’d been so anxious to see my class roster, to find out the names of my students, that when I’d realized it was time for the lists to be released, I’d leapt out of the minuscule European shower, snatched my towel from the rack, and ran naked to my laptop, willing it to wake up and tell me about how my session was gonna be. My best friend Louise—Lulu—had called while I was logging on, eager to check her class list aswell.
But now, staring at the screen, all I could think was,am I seeing what I think I’mseeing?
“Shit,” I said into thephone.
Her breath came out with the exertion of walking. “Yes, I knowmierdameans shit. I teach French. We saymerde. Not much difference. Why you freaking out, girl?” Louise learned French from her Senegalese parents, then went on to learn English, Spanish, and Italian. She taught at the translation school at the University of Granada and managed to, last-minute, get me this summerjob.
I’d been teaching Spanish-to-English translation for a few years now, in different countries—Ecuador, Peru, Mexico, and most recently in Salamanca, Spain, where I’d been happy to be reunited with Louise. She’d texted me, saying that the University of Granada sought an instructor, and did I want to come? No-brainer forme.
Latching on to her words to distract me, I huffed, “I’m not a girl. I’m a fully-grownwoman.”
“You act like a child. So I call you that. Noharm?”
I smiled. “No harm. It’s easy to forget that I’m a goddamnprofessional.”
“You absolutely are.” She paused. “In your ownway.”
“I’m twenty-six years old! You’re younger thanme!”
“Everyone is my child,” sheretorted.
That made me mutter, “And people callmethe earth mama.” I studied the computer again, feeling like Obi-WanKenobi.
Trent Milner.That’s a name I haven’t heard in a longtime.
Lulu would be here soon. I should dry off. I should get dressed. I should—fuck.
Red heat infused my cheeks, remembering the last time I saw Trent. The way his lips felt against mine. How badly I’d wantedhim.
I started pacing. “I can’t do this. He can’t be in my class. That’s toomuch.”
“Uh. Crazy woman? What’s set you off thistime?”
I raised my arms in confusion, trying to rationalize with the forces behind the computer. The forces of theUniverse.
“There has to be a mistake in the roster. Trent Milner isnotgoing to be my student. There must be another Trent Milner. How many are there in the world? There have to be hundreds.Thousands.”
Lulu chuckled. “What on earth? Who is TrentMilner?”
“Someone I haven’t thought of in fouryears.”
Not true. Someone I’d thought of plenty of times. Thinking of his lean, lanky body, his gentle eyes, his sexy smile. How good he always smelled. What a great guy hewas.
