Page 43 of Feels Like Falling
“Can I just say,”—Reggie beams at us from across the desk in her office with more enthusiasm than I’m ready for—“that we are allsoexcited to have you with us this school year!”
She’s remarkably younger and much warmer than my last principal, but that’s probably not saying much considering I’d been locked into a contract with a private school in Savannah after graduation. Courtesy of my mother.
There wasn’t much I missed from there aside from the kids and this really cute boutique called Halcyon. Word on the street was that the owner, Ellie, had opened a second location in Tennessee, but I’d been too focused on the move home to look into it.
Mentally adding that to my to-do list under cleaning out my purse, I smile as Reggie continues to talk before giving us a tour of the school and showing us to our respective classrooms. Calvin is slotted to replace the beloved art teacher and waves as he ducks inside his room, leaving Reggie and me in the hall.
“Your resume is very impressive, Ellison,” she says as we pause in front of another room. “I realize you grew up here, but this is going to be very different from what you’re used to.”
“I’m looking forward to the change. Working in Savannah, while rewarding, stifled a lot of the creativity I’d hoped to bring to my students,” I say honestly. “I feel like this is exactly where I need to be at this point in my career.”
Her smile is understanding and warm as she motions to the doorway in front of us. “Then by all means.”
My heels click on the tile as I cross the threshold, and I’m struck by the brightness in the room. The white walls are covered with colorful posters, tiny desks and chairs are organized neatly, and bookshelves cover the entire wall under the windows.
“Please let us know if there’s anything you need. Our budget isn’t huge, but we have a little set aside to get you and your students settled for the start of the year.”
Thanking her, I smile as she excuses herself back to her office, leaving me to hunt my way around the room.
I love it.
And it’s amazing how comfortable I already feel in here, personal touches aside. This space is exactly what a kindergarten room should be. In Savannah, the day was regimented and not in a casualkeep the kids on task waybut in the way that forces kids to grow up far quicker than they deserve.
“Please tell me you’re ready to get a drink,” Calvin says from behind me with a pointed look. I’m surprised to see how much time has passed when I glance at the clock on the wall.
“If you insist,” I say, surprising myself.
“I do, and you can call me Cal. I always get nervous and introduce myself as Calvin, but literally no one calls me that.”
I laugh as we walk down the hall and out into the parking lot. “Where do you want to go, Cal not Calvin?”
“Cute,” he says drawing out the words and making it clear he doesnotthink my teasing is cute. “How about Boots on Bar and Grill? I’ll drive—I’m still getting used to this town.” He narrows his eyes. “Which one are you dating again? I really don’t feel like fighting off a boyfriend today.”
I laugh as I follow him to a silver Prius. “This tracks,” I say, nodding toward the car.
“I’d be mad if it wasn’t true.”
Climbing in, I click my seatbelt into place before answering his question. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say but that doesn’t totally feel right, “but Montana Greene is my best friend and we’re…”
“Involved?” he offers with a smirk.
“Yeah, I mean, we’re notnotinvolved but there’s no label,” I say lifting my shoulder and letting it drop. We’d kind of brushed over that the other night. “I’m honestly not sure what we’re doing.”
“I bet it’s fun whatever it is. That man is climbable.”
I snort but still feel my cheeks heat because he’s not wrong. Montana is everything I’ve ever wanted, and now that we’ve started something, I’m keenly aware of what’s at stake. “What about you?”
“Currently unattached and looking to decompress after my last job. My sister Hannah is married to Case Thayer and they’re settling down—and it felt like it was time to do the same and?—”
I gasp, the back of my hand making contact with his bicep. “No way! She’s the one who owns that cute little bookstore in Clementine Creek, right?”
“Ow,” he whines, rubbing a palm over his arm while keeping the other hand on the wheel. “I thought people were supposed to be nicer in the south.”
“That’s a common misconception,” I say with a sly grin, mostly to cover the surprise I’m feeling at being so comfortable with someone I just met.
It’s…unsettling.
And nice.
