My stomach churns. I drop my arms to my side and stare at Drew. I’m an idiot.
“You okay there, buddy?”
“I … uh …” I didn’t accept her friend request on social media. If I was still at the police station, I could look up her application form on file to find her phone number. I wonder if she has a writing website. “I don’t know where to find her.”
Drew’s teeth flash. He’s rocking with laughter again. Rocking so hard he has to lean forward through the doorframe.
The new me has started to appreciate his sense of humor more, but I’m not getting the joke. “Why is this funny?”
“Whoa, boy.” He hoots and hollers and takes his sweet time getting ahold of himself. “You really don’t know, do you?”
I drop my phone back into the box with athudand hold my hands wide. “Obviously not.”
He wipes his eyes and takes a step backward. He taps on the wall just outside my office. “The two of you are coworkers now.”
I still so quickly that I can feel my blood rush to my feet. Perhaps that’s why my brain isn’t able to process the meaning of Drew’s words—it’s not getting enough oxygen.
Finally I recall the fact that Gemma teaches English. She’s a teacher. Here. At my school. If Drew is right, that means I’m going to see her every day.
How is she going to respond to this surprise? Will she think I stalked her? Changed jobs to be near her? The coincidence could come across as completely creepy. Kind of like when she signed up for Citizen’s Safety Academy to be near me. Hopefully this works out better.
In a daze, I push my way into the hallway to look at the bulletin board of teachers’ pictures for myself. Sure enough. Gemma won Teacher of the Month last May. Her stunning black-and-white image could be the headshot used for her page on IMDb. “I can’t believe she works here.”
But of course she works here. It’s like when Joseph’s brothers showed up in Egypt to buy grain from him. Somehow my life has come full circle, but this time I have the knowledge to create a healthy relationship.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
GEMMA
Dear Diary, the Heroine never cries.
—AMELIAF. JONES
Our film competition win still hasn’t sunk in—even as I drop Kai off at the airport for his flight to Africa. I weave through the traffic jam of vehicles and pull up to the curb.
Kai sits and stares out the windshield. “What if a witch doctor puts a poisonous snake in my window to kill me in my sleep?”
The mention of witch doctors reminds me of the time I compared Karson to one, though I don’t think the cop has anything to do with Kai’s current worries. “You’re proposing to a nurse, so she’ll have the medical knowledge to save you if she wants to get married.”
He faces me then, dark eyes jittery like coffee. “You think she’ll say yes?”
I smile at what love has done to him. My chill, lazy roommate is running marathons, willing to tolerate the threat of poisonous snakes, and taking on what he used to consider the biggest risk of all—marriage. That’s really what he’s afraid of. I smile with confidence. “You know how Charlie predicted we’d win the film competition?”
Kai gives a half grin. “Yes. Charlie has experience with first place.”
“True. And I have experience with romance.” Not the relationship kind of experience but the writing kind. I just finished my screenplay. I’m all about the happily ever after. “I predict that it’s a good thing you started running again, because Meri’s going to race you to the altar.”
Kai takes a deep breath instead of laughing as I’d expected him to. I’ve never seen him so serious. “I would have flown to Africa to propose even if we hadn’t won the competition. Isn’t it crazy how when we met, I wasn’t even willing to get off the sofa to pursue her, and now I’m flying around the world?”
My heart melts, and I reach for his hand. “The challenges you’ve already overcome make your love that much stronger.”
He squeezes my palm as though he’ll never let go. Is he going to try to take me with him? I’d love to go watch his reunion, but school starts on Monday. Also, I can’t park my car here.
“Thanks, Gemma.” He releases me to pull his backpack from the floor up into his lap. The dude travels light. “I wish the same for you and Officer Angry Eyes.”
It’s a good thing I can laugh. Otherwise I’d cry. “So magnanimous of you.”
“If I can grow, anyone can.” He gives my hand one more squeeze, then steps to the sidewalk and swings his backpack over a shoulder.
