“Thank you.” Megs dropped the call and slumped into the plastic chair next to the wall. Her mind whirred, and while part of her wanted to scream, a larger part simply felt numb.
She wanted to stay there in the break room and wallow while she thought through every ramification of this new development, but she dragged herself up and stalked back to the front of the coffee shop. Andbonus!Her mind splintered in a thousand different directions as she took orders and went through the motions behind the counter.
She wrote the name on the cup.Am I really going to throw away three hundred dollars for nothing?Set the cup down and pressed the button on the espresso machine.But I can’t go to that class.Angled the nozzle on the can of whipped cream.Gideon is still my professor.
By nine-thirty, the stream of customers was nonexistent. Megs grabbed a rag and was wiping down the counters when her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and saw a message from Gideon.
It seems you’re still on my roster
Eight
Megs rereadthe message three times. Was he happy about that? Upset? He’d given no indication as to what he felt about that fact. She started to type and deleted it when it started to ramble, then started again.
Called the school this morning. I misread the drop date
You dropped it on Friday. That was the correct date
A sick realizationflooded over Megs. She’d made Gideon think she’d already dropped the class before they went to the burger place.Is that where you take all your students? I’m kidding. I’ll drop your class in the car.
What was she supposed to say to him? When they went to Sammy’s, he didn’t know she was still enrolled in her class.
I tried to drop it Friday in the car. Cell service was terrible, so I figured I’d drop it when I got back home
Gideon didn’t have readreceipts turned on, so all Megs saw was that the message was delivered. When a couple of minutes had ticked by, and she didn’t see anything, her heart started to palpitate. Just when she was about to throw her phone at the wall, a two-word message popped up.
You didn’t?
No,she didn’t. It hadn’t even occurred to her. She’d driven home with only one shoe on, and eventhathadn’t managed to pull her attention from what had just happened in the parking lot.
It was honestly the last thing on my mind
Megs’finger hovered over the send button. Finally, she pressed and waited.
“Everything all right?” John asked as he cleared off the corner booth where Gideon had sat that day he’d come into the coffee shop.
“Yep,” she answered without hesitation. She wasn’t going to open up to a seventeen-year-old about her life crisis even if he was mature for his age. “Thanks for covering while I made that call.”
“Sounded intense.”
“Yeah, just dealing with some college red tape.”
John cleared two dirty coffee cups from another table to the counter, and Megs loaded them into the dishwasher, leaving her phone face up on the counter where she could see it. The bell jangled on the door, and she straightened. Megs flashed a smile at the older gentleman who approached the counter.
“Cup of black coffee and a bran muffin.”
That would be intense for his digestive system, but Megs didn’t question it. “Coming right up.”
Gideon stoodat the front of the classroom waiting for the projector to warm up. There were eight students already sitting in their seats, but the room was dead silent.Mondays.
Last year he’d gone on a cruise with a few of his childhood friends, Matt—or Oscar—included. The first day, he’d felt sick to his stomach, but once his semicircular canals had adjusted, the ship hadn’t felt any different than solid earth. Until he’d stepped off and tried to walk down the ramps leading to the parking garage.
Teaching felt that way. During the school year, he was on the ship. Summer was the ramps. And the first few weeks of school, he was waiting to catch his balance again.
Today, Gideon’s stomach was more unsettled than normal. He sat on the stool in front of his laptop and tried to distract himself by swiping through mundane emails on his phone. It didn’t work. Not well, at least. Even after a trip to the gym that morning, he couldn’t unravel the knot underneath his ribs.
He’d kissed a student.Megs had led him to believe she’d already dropped the class. She’d never officially attended, nor had he ever looked at or graded her work, but still. He never would’ve done that had he known.
Mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Or the way his hands tingled every time her number appeared on his screen. How long had it been since he’d felt that sense of anticipation? She was funny and . . . surprising.
