Page 98 of Head Under Water

When the classroom is quiet again, I pack up my things, wipe down the board a final time, push the desks back into place from where they’ve strayed, and start flipping the chairs on top of them for the janitor to sweep.

“Knock, knock.” He says the words rather than knocking, and when I turn around, I find Banks waiting next to my propped-open door. He leans against the frame, folding his arms across his chest with a charming smile. “Need any help with anything?”

“I don’t think so.” I flip the final chair and dust off my hands. “I was just about to get out of here.”

“I heard you had someone in the hospital. Hope everything’s okay.”

The reminder of Margie feels as if someone has reached into my chest and squeezed. She’s supposed to be waking up tonight. They’re supposed to try again.

“I hope so, too,” I say. There’s a scuff on my shoe I hadn’t noticed earlier.

I forgot to ask Will if he wants me to meet him at the hospital or if we’re going to ride together.

“Can I ask what happened?”

I’d nearly forgotten Banks was still standing there. When I look at him again, there’s a certain sadness in the air between us. Once, I was crazy about this man. I really thought, all those years ago, he might be something serious, if not the one. And when I moved back, when I realized he was here, the idea we’d get to know each other again filled me with hope. The possibility that maybe this time we’d get things right.

When we left Havenport, I never dreamed I’d see him again. I wasn’t even sure if I hoped I would. He’s everything I’m supposed to want. Serious, stable.

He’s just…not Will.

That realization is haunting.

My brain reverts to a dark place. My worst thoughts. Will and I have only spent one night together—and sure, it was an unforgettable, life-altering, impossible night—but in the practical world, outside his apartment, we might never work. We might just need to push through our pent-up frustration. Our long-held desires. He might just be using me to forget about his mom for a while.

We’re still the people we’ve always been. The ones who’ve fought much more than they’ve ever gotten along.

Have we really changed all that much?

Yes. We have.

I have. I won’t do this. I will not run. I’m going to trust him. I do trust him.

I refuse to let myself lose him because I’m scared.

“You…okay?” Again, Banks calls my attention, and I realize I’ve been lost, swimming in my head.

“Sorry. I’m… It’s been a weird day,” I admit with a breathy laugh. “I should probably go. I need to get to the hospital.”

“Can I drive you?” he offers. “You seem a little…out of it. Tired, maybe? We could stop and get dinner—just something quick. You need to eat. Or I could bring you something there.”

“That’s really sweet of you.” But I don’t want to lead him on. I just want to get to Will. To be there for him. “But I don’t think so.”

“Just as a friend. No pressure.”

“I’m okay, but thank you. Really.”

He hesitates, then gives a slow nod, hands shoved into his pockets. “Let me at least walk you to your car, then.” The red lanyard swings as he steps back.

“That we can do.” I move across the room to gather my things, then meet him at the door and pull it closed behind me, lights flipped off.

As we walk to the staff parking lot, he tells me about a student who asked to go to the office so he could call his parents because he was too tired for gym class. And another who pretended he was asleep so he could text with his head buried in the crook of his arm.

It’s a nice distraction, hearing about his day.

“Is it everything you wanted?” I ask gently. “All those long nights in the library, the classes…”

“The debt,” he teases, his gaze searching the air ahead of us. “Yeah, I think so. It’s… I still want to be principal someday. Have a hand in everything happening here, not just a piece of it. See more kids than just one grade. But I like history. And fifth grade is a fun age. I enjoy what I do.”