Tess tips her head up and shows me her palms. “Look, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s really okay.”
I’m simultaneously touched and guilt-ridden. Tess understands better than most my desire to keep parts of myself under lock and key.
“But,” she goes on, “I’m not dumb. It seems like you and Sawyer are a thing now even though you swore it’d never happen.”
I press my lips together because, as much as I hate to admit it, this is different than when she caught us in the classroom. I still hated him then. Now, my chest inflates at how it felt just this morning to wake up with his body wrapped around mine and his lips on my hair.
She pulls me to the table. I automatically sit down.
“This is Blue Ridge,” she says, not unkindly. “People aregoing to know about it. Heck, people probablyalreadyknow about it if you drove past a single soul on your way in together.”
Once again, the magnitude of it all weighs down on me. I didn’t see the thing with Christopher comingat all. I was naive and got caught out. The smart thing for me to do here is to cut things off with Sawyer completely. Say,That was fun while it lasted,and be done with it. But I can’t do that. Just the thought of it has my heart writhing in discomfort, my gut twisting. I’ve never experienced with anyone else what I experienced with Sawyer these past few days, and I want more. More of it, more of him, more of us.
How do I do thatandmaintain some modicum of professionalism?
Even though I haven’t said a word, Tess keeps talking as if she can read my mind. “I’m not trying to burst your bubble. I just want to reset your expectations if you think you can keep something secret in this town.”
I drop my head to the table, already imagining the phone tree alight with news of Sawyer shacking up with the likes of me.
I have to tell him about Christopher. It’s the only way he’ll understand why I need to remain professional at school. Even if we can’t hide it.
Tess prods the top of my head. “It’s alright,” she soothes. “Sawyer really is a good guy.”
“Ms. Casey?”
I lift my head to find a fifth grader I recognize as one of the front office helpers.
Putting on a smile, I say, “Hi, Jorge.”
“I have this for you.” He hands me a folded note, then waves and leaves.
Holding my breath, I unfold the note. In Sawyer’s sharp handwriting, there are four words.
My office. After pickup.
I look up, sure Tess can hear my heart’s deafening thumps.
Her overly nonchalant face tells me she read the note.
And that’s how I spend the next few hours spiraling. Again.
CHAPTER 37
SAWYER
I stopmy pacing to glance at the clock. Another ten minutes go by before I decide she isn’t coming.
I trudge over to my desk and sit down, head bowed into my hands.
What did she mean by wanting to be professional? What are the parameters? These are the things I should’ve asked her this morning, ignoring the call to the front office that turned out to be a petty argument over parking spots between the music and gym teachers. Consequently, I spent a large portion of my day driving myself up the wall.
There’s a swift rap on my door, and Brie’s voice floats in. “Sawyer?”
I stand so fast I knock my knee on my desk drawer. “Yeah,” I say in a strained voice, rubbing at the pain.
Brie comes in, pink cheeked and looking frazzled, and I don’t know how I was able to stand not seeing her the whole day. Every instinct shouts at me to go to her, press her body against the door, and show her how much I missed her, but I force my feet to stay put.
“Henry Kim’s grandma wasn’t on the approved pickup list. It was a whole thing,” she says, waving her hand.
