Page 76 of My So-Called Perfect Life
“It feels like a part of me is fading out when I have to take everything down each year.”
He turns, giving me his bright white smile. “Well then, let’s revive your soul and get this place back into shape. I’ve two capable hands here, so put them to work. What do we need to do first?”
This man never ceases to amaze me. He always shows interest in my life, no matter what part.
Warmth spreads in my chest. Ryan has been healing me day by day. Teaching me a little bit more about myself that I didn’t know before. I thought I was happy with Scott. I thought I knew what I wanted in my life and that I had it all. But Ryan has shown me time and again that I want more. I deserve more. I want someone who is going to push me out of my comfort zone. Someone who helps me grow. Someone who is going to be a part of everything in my life—like setting up my classroom.
“First, I have to move the desks.”
The custodian always sets the desks together in the center of the room after school’s out.
“I spent, like, three hours reading research about the most effective desk arrangements.”
His head tilts. “Research? Effective desk arrangement? Don’t they just go in rows?”
“No,” I say with a laugh. “There’s a whole field on effective classroom setup. How to arrange the best flow for positive learning. Kind of like the science and thought that goes into building a bar.”
I grab my binder off my desk and flip to the diagram I printed. “I found this one online. I haven’t done this one before, so I want to try it out and see.”
Ryan flips through my binder with everything for my classroom. Lesson plans, worksheets, all my design ideas. He looks from the binder to me with soft eyes. “I never thought about how much goes into being a teacher. You amaze me with your dedication to your students.”
The sincerity in his words is palpable.
“Thank you.”
“And your organization is on a whole other level.” He laughs. “Want to come work on my bar?”
I thrive on having everything laid out for me. I have a plan. I know what to expect. It makes my life easy. So many colleagues of mine laugh at my structure but then want my help by the end of the year.
“Well, you’re helping me today. I’m happy to reciprocate.”
“A little quid pro quo,” He waggles his eyebrows. “Well, then let’s get these desks in order.”
I almost feel guilty, not helping him move the desks around the room, but the way his royal-blue T-shirt clings to the impeccable muscles of his back is a view I just can’t turn away from. I’ve never seen anything quite as panty-melting as a hotter-than-sin man moving little chairs around a room.
“Please tell me that you have air-conditioning in here once school is back in session,” he huffs. “It’s way too hot in here to concentrate. I’ve only been in here twenty minutes, and I’m ready for a cold shower.”
Budgets for inner city schools can’t possibly cover everything, so we don’t have air-conditioning. “I have two window units in storage that I’ll bring in the day before school starts.”
He lifts his shirt and wipes his forehead with it, revealing his nice, sculpted abs. “What’s next?”
“Uh …” I shake my head to clear my thoughts of having those pressed against my stomach. “The rug goes in the corner over there. It’s in the closet.”
As Ryan situates the rug, I start pulling all the jungle-themed items from the boxes.
Two hours later, my classroom has turned into the Amazon rainforest.
“I don’t think I’ve seen this many monkeys or bananas in my life,” Ryan comments, walking around my finished classroom.
I laugh. “You’re to blame for it.”
“Me?” he asks planting his hands on his hips feigning insult. “How am I responsible for this monkey business?”
My laugh builds deep in my belly. Somehow, he always manages to make me laugh. It’s one of the things I look forward to most when we spend time together.
“I was trying to keep my mind off your drink invitation, so I dove into a new classroom theme to keep my thoughts focused on something other than you.”
He crosses the room with sweat dotting his hairline. His signature pompadour hairstyle slips as one piece hangs down near his eye. Those incredible Caribbean water–colored eyes, which are only brightened by the deep blue of his shirt, fill with a smug satisfaction.
