Page 33 of Fireworks
“You can use my laptop,” Blair said.
She stretched over him to connect the wires, putting him eyelevel with herboobage, as Eiley had politely put it. Not that he was thinking of her.
“There we go.” Blair’s tone was saccharine, face just a little too close to pass as accidental.
Warren hunched over the laptop to open the presentation, scratching the back of his neck with a discomfited grimace. “Long time since I’ve been in a classroom.”
And the vibrant displays of smeared paintings and grammar factoids on every wall brought with them an unsettling sense of nostalgia. He’d sat in this classroom himself once, years before his world had turned upside down. He missed how small and safe he’d felt. Was it cruel to tell these children how quickly it could all change?
Someone had to. They’d only learn the hard way otherwise, like him.
“I’m sure you’ll be great.” Blair’s reassuring squeeze around his arm lingered longer than necessary, and he shot her a grateful smile, deciding then that he would grow some balls and ask her out later. It would be good for him. Get all this …Eileyout of his system. “I don’t blame you, though. They’re an overwhelming bunch, aren’t they?”
The presentation loaded, and Warren hoped that nobody would notice how hastily it had been put together. The first page was filled with clip art of sparklers and bold acronyms they likely wouldn’t remember. He supposed if just one of these children paid attention, it might save a life, and that was all he’d ever wanted when he’d decided on this career path.
“You deserve a medal,” he said, opening slideshow mode.
She leaned in close, breath filling the shell of his ear. “I’ll settle for dinner sometime.”
He paused.
He should have liked it.Thiswas what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? Someone who was actually properly interested, not someone difficult to read and quick to pull away. So, why didn’t he feel that same heat that Eiley had kindled in him last weekend? Better yet, why was he evenwaitingfor such an obscure, unrealistic feeling? Aye, finding a spark was great, but he didn’t require it in order to date a woman. Chemistry sometimes built over time.
But he shouldn’t need to convince himselfthismuch. She was his usual type: curvy, sexy, easy to chat with and even easier to read. Straightforward. If he had to feel a spark for anyone, it should have been her. Instead, his thoughts slipped back to the bookstore over and over.
He was all Eiley-riddled. He needed to sort it out.
So, he feigned enthusiasm. Hoped it might come naturally next time they spoke. He wouldn’t let this fixation ruin his dating life. He’d move on. “Aye, I think that can be arranged.”
It was clearly what Blair had been hoping for, because her green eyes flared. Before any plans could be made, Mrs Crumpsall clapped to get the children’s attention, placing her fingers on her lips. The children mimicked her, stragglers with ants in their pants returning to their seats. Warren’s ears throbbed in the glorious new quiet.
“Today, Mr …?” The teacher trailed off expectantly, but Warren didn’t have time to give his name.
“That’s Warren,” announced a student. A familiar freckled face appeared at the back of the classroom: Brook, with his white shirt collar stuffed wonkily into his royal-blue V-necked jumper. “He’s my friend and he’s a fireman!”
Of course he’d managed to end up in the classroom of Eiley’s son. She was inescapable, her presence all over town.
“What a flattering introduction, Brook. Thank you.” Warren bit back a smile, offering a wave to the adorable lad before turning his attention to the rest of the class. “Brook is correct. I’m a firefighter at Belbarrow Fire Station just across the road, and since we’re all set to enjoy the fireworks displays at the beginning of next month, I’d like to talk to you today about fire safety.”
He began his presentation, attempting to interact with the pupils as much as possible. “… Now, we all know fireworks are very fun and exciting, but if not treated properly, they can do a lot of damage.”
Warren skipped to the next slide, a photograph of second-degree burns appearing. A chorus ofEwwwwwwserupted through the classroom. “I know. Nasty, isn’t it? And also very painful! You don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of a rocket like this wee lass was.”
“Mr Warren!” Mrs Crumpsall jumped in front of the image, which only meant that the wound was projected onto her instead of the board. “This is a bit graphic for the children, don’t you think?”
“Mrs Crumpsall, I don’t feel well,” the Toothless owner whined, admittedly a shade paler than she had been when the dragon had been crushed under his foot.
“I think it’s cool!” Brook blurted from the back. “Warren saves people!”
“Ithink we should skip this slide,” Blair said, rushing to the laptop to move the image along. The next slide wasn’t much better. She yelped and closed the entire screen, replacing it with a blue desktop background. Just in time, because the girl closest to the door began to cry. Loudly.
Well, this was going well.
14
The projector was turned off as Blair escorted the crying girl out of the classroom. Guilt tore through him, but what was the point of talking to them about fire safety if the children didn’t understand the danger for themselves? How else would they know to avoid it?
He puffed out his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his navy shirt as the children goggled at him. Shite. He’d terrified them. “Look, I know this can seem quite scary, but that’s why it’s important to be very careful. You never, ever go near a lit firework, and you don’t cross the barriers set out around a bonfire.”
