CHAPTER ONE
ANNIKA
FIRSTSWEREALWAYSripe with possibilities. First steps. First friend. First love. But nothing was ever quite like the first day of school. Especially not this year. This year, Annika Mehta was in charge of her first classroom. The familiar aromas of chalk and paper, crayons and paint took on new meaning as Annika surveyed her summer handiwork. She was proud of the setup. Science area, art area, reading nook (complete with small cushy pillows), math section with beads and plenty of paper. It had taken her a while to get here, and she inhaled, satisfied.
That was when the butterflies hit. Annika hadn’t been this nervous since her student-teaching days, and that was mostly because the parents all thought she looked too young to be a teacher, which always amused her, as she was actually a few years older than most student teachers. Now, however, Annika was the head teacher. She put her hand to her stomach, as if doing so would calm the fluttering. She inhaled the familiar scents of cut grass and city exhaust as she opened a few windows. The air was cool right now, but the stickiness proved that summer still prevailed despite the fact that it was after Labor Day.
She was ready. Or at least as ready as she’d ever be.
A knock and shuffling at the door gave her butterflies new wings, but they settled as she greeted the first of her students.
“Good morning, Allison!” Annika walked over and made eye contact with the little girl, then turned to the mother. “Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”
“Good morning. Good to see you again,” Mrs. Peterson replied, her smile warm and welcoming.
Annika gave her full attention to the child. “Do you remember where things go?” Orientation had been a few days ago, but Allison nodded.
“I do, Ms. Mehta.” She beamed and looked at her mother, as if asking permission to go.
Mrs. Peterson smiled, tilting her head at her daughter. “You’ll have to ask Ms. Mehta when you’re in her classroom.”
“Oh. Ms. Mehta, can I go put my things away?”
Annika grinned, relaxing. “Of course.”
Allison walked over to the coatrack and placed her backpack and lunch in the appropriate cubby.
Mrs. Peterson sighed. “She’s talked about nothing else but this classroom since meeting you. We’re very excited about her kindergarten year.”
“Me, too.” Annika smiled.
Mrs. Peterson waved at her daughter and placed her hand on her heart. “They grow so fast.” She smiled at Annika, her eyes moist, before gripping Annika’s hand in both of hers. “Thank you.”
“It’s going to be a wonderful year, Mrs. Peterson,” Annika assured her.
Other students and parents followed soon after, leaving Annika so busy and energized there just wasn’t room for butterflies.
The buzz of animated children filled her classroom, with only two of them so far having shed any tears. With a few minutes left in drop-off, Annika turned for a moment to observe the members of her class who were there. A small group had gathered around the books, another couple had pulled out blocks to play with and others were simply coloring quietly.
“Ah. Excuse me?” a male voice called from the door.
Annika walked over and addressed the child who stood with the man. “Good morning, Mitch. Do you remember me?”
Large brown eyes looked up at her, a small, shy smile breaking through on Mitch’s face. Annika turned her attention to the man with him. “Hi, I’m Ms. Mehta.” She extended her hand. “I don’t believe we met at orientation.”
The man stiffened, merely glancing at her hand. “Are you the teacher?”
Annika smiled, keeping her hand extended. “Yes, I am.”
He looked around and behind her, his brow furrowed and a small frown forming at his mouth. “There’s no one else here?”
Annika pressed her lips together and forced the smile to stay put. Here it was. The typicalNo way you’re old enough to teach. Good skin and genetics were a blessing and a curse. Hopefully, she’d still look young when she was fifty.
“No need. I’m the teacher. Annika Mehta. I’m new, but completely qualified.” She laughed. “I can assure you, they won’t let just anyone teach here.”
The man stared at her extended hand, then looked at her, his eyes hardening. “Clearly, that’s not true. Seems they’ll let anyone teach.”
Confused, Annika dropped her hand. “I’m sorry?” She paused. “I only look young. This is my first classroom on my own, but I have done extensive training—”
