“Not right now,” I say. “You have school, Noah.”
“Your uncle is right,” JJ says. “But maybe you can come by the fire station some time, and I’ll give you a tour.”
“No way!” Noah shrieks. “No way, no way!”
“You can do that?” I ask. How did I not know he could do that?
“Of course I can. I’m the Lieutenant.” Lieutenant? Why does that make him hotter? He winks at me, then pats Noah on the head. My stomach does a weird warm twisty thing. “Have a good rest of your day at school, bud.”
Some of the other kids have moved closer, all staring up at JJ like he’s an alien but they want to get to know him anyway. He waves at all of them, flashing a bright grin that has me melting.
“See ya later, kids,” he says. “Later, Miles.”
“Bye,” I say, though the word barely comes out. It’s more like a little gust of air.
“You okay?” Sheila asks, nudging me with her elbow.
“Huh? What? I’m fine.”
“Because your jaw is on the ground. You need help picking it up?”
I frown. “It is not.”
“Oh, it certainly was, honey.” She gives me a knowing smile. “And I don’t blame you. That man ishot.”
“All right, as soon as the trucks leave, we’re heading back inside, okay?” I say to the kids, ignoring Sheila and the way my face is burning.
“Okay!” the kids shout, sounding slightly disappointed. The noise reminds me of the aching headache I’ve had all day.
The trucks take a few minutes to leave, and once they’re gone, we head inside as orderly as a school of elementary school kids can. I pass Noah off to Mr. Carpenter and manage to get my kids back to class without losing one of them. Not thatthat’sever happened before, but these kids are sneaky.
Mr. Kooley comes over the announcement speakers and explains what happened so the kids will feel more at ease, though I think most of them are just excited about seeing the fire trucks.
We’re not supposed to use our phones during the day, especially while in class, but I sneak a text to Audrey to explain what happened so she doesn’t worry. She hates those cookie-cutter messages that get sent to parents during events like this. They never give enough information, and I understand why. Giving more information gives things for negative people to run with, for rumors to start, and for people to say terrible things. I’d bet someone would say the staff member should lose their job over this incident, when it was purely an accident. It’s just unnecessary.
As a parent, or… pseudo-parent, I can understand why they’d want more details. Which is why I always give them to Audrey. Plus, she’s practical and realistic. She won’t blame the staff; she’ll just be happy to know there weren’t people smoking in the building or kids starting fires in the bathroom.
I don’t wait for a response because I need to get back to work. Sheila should be here in a few minutes, which will allow me to go to the nurse—hopefully she has something to help this headache. But until then, it’s business as usual.
“All right, kiddos, it’s time for art!”
“Aw, art stinks.”
“Not nice, Jeremiah.”
“I love art, you poop face.”
“Asher, my goodness, you’re spicy today. Don’t call your friends poop face.”
“He’s spicy every day, Mr. Montgomery,” Marie says with a huff.
I chuckle to myself.
That he is.
By the time I get back to my classroom after parent pick-up, Noah is waiting to leave, spinning around in my chair.
“You took forever!” he says when he sees me.
