Glancing at Terri and Bjorn, she saw the disappointment on their faces. “Come on, guys. I’m fine being single. And right now, we need to get these packages labeled and sent out or you’re not going to make any money this week.”
That seemed to do the trick as the couple jumped from their seats, and with the three of them working, they soon had the task completed. Just as she was ready to leave, she turned quickly. “Oh, I forgot to ask about selling some of your items at the teachers’ fundraiser this next Saturday. I don’t know how we would work it because some of the money would have to go to the school, but it would get you more local exposure.”
“At your high school?” Bjorn asked, his brows raised, shooting glances between her and Terri.
“Yeah, uh… but you don’t have to. It was just an idea.”
“No, no. I think it’s a good idea,” he enthused. “What do you think Terri? A fifty-fifty split of profits?”
“Sure, babe. That’d be fine.”
Now it was Caitlyn’s turn to lift her brows. “Wow, a fifty-fifty split of profits? Are you sure? That’s more than I was thinking.”
“It’ll be good for business. You come by on Friday evening, and we can give you stuff to load in your car.”
“Great! I was trying to figure out what to take, so that'll be perfect.” As Caitlyn said her goodbyes, Terri pressed a small box of candles, potpourri, and tea into her hand. “Here, this is for helping us.”
Caitlyn thanked her, knowing her protest would fall on deaf ears. She never expected payment for helping them out but knew it made them feel better to give her something. With her box of delicious scents in her hands, she climbed the steps and went back into her apartment. Peeking out her window, she could see that Griffin’s crew had left but she had no idea where he was. No sounds were coming from his apartment, but since she had lesson plans to prepare, it was just as well. Her mom was expecting her for dinner, so she wouldn’t be alone.
The image of taking Griffin with her to a family dinner flew through her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as she shook her head. Good God, I just met the man. Surely, I’m not that desperate or lonely. Refusing to answer her own question, she plopped the box onto her counter, pulled out a candle, and lit it. Settling at her table with her lesson plan book and the floral scent drifting over her apartment, she got to work.
“Essays on an American novelist from the early 1800s are due on Friday. Not next Monday. Friday.” Caitlyn looked over her advanced English class of juniors, watching their faces carefully as the groans and cries of, “Ms. McBride,” filled the air. Waving her hand, she arched a brow, calling for silence. “This assignment has been on your calendar since the beginning of the year. Most of you will be going to college after high school and need to get used to having deadlines and due dates. So, no excuses. On my desk Friday.”
“We’ve got extra practices this week, Ms. McBride! Athletes should get an extension.”
She shot Devon a hard look, but it was Russ that replied.
“Jocks aren’t the only ones with things to do, so quit your bitchin’ and man up.”
Devon’s lip curled, and Caitlyn recognized a true sneer. “Just cause you gotta bag groceries for a living—”
“Shut up, Devon,” Angelique said, turning around in her seat, her eyes narrowed on him.
Clapping her hands again, Caitlyn regained control of her class before they devolved into what she hoped would only be mild chaos, but with teens, she never knew what might happen. Devon was a good student, an excellent athlete, and his parents had money, something he hadn’t flaunted in the past, but she knew his cockiness was growing as his athletic scholarship opportunities increased. Angelique was independent-minded and a staunch defender of anyone she viewed as an underdog. One look at Russ’ face and it was clear he wasn’t happy, whether from Devon’s taunts or Angelique’s defense, Caitlyn wasn’t sure.
“Again, essays due next Friday. We’ll use the last few minutes of class today discussing topics if anyone wants to run their idea past me.”
Caitlyn spent the last fifteen minutes of the class moving amongst the students as they bounced their essay topics off her and she offered suggestions. She loved all her classes but particularly appreciated having this advanced class at the end of the day. The students were motivated, interested, excited about learning, and even if literature wasn’t a great love of theirs yet, she always hoped she could impart an appreciation for the written word.
As the bell rang, she walked to the door, saying goodbye and answering a few more questions. The hall was crowded, a sea of teens filling the space as they moved, generally on the right side of the hall with a few like salmon swimming against the stream. As the sound of lockers slamming shut mixed with the cacophony of other sounds, she stayed at her door, supervising along with the other teachers. Slowly, the sounds receded as students rushed to their buses, the parking lot, or after-school practices.
Walking back into her class, she was surprised when Russ reappeared.
“Ms. McBride?”
Turning, she smiled. “Hey, what’s up? Did you forget something?”
His head hung down for a moment as though finding his boots the most fascinating item in the room. She rested her ass against her desk, crossing her legs at the ankles, and waited patiently.
“Not going to college.” She remained quiet, and he finally lifted his head to hold her gaze. “I know most in this advanced class are, but not me.”
“Okay, Russ. Is there a reason you want me to know this now?” she asked, keeping her voice soft and steady, wanting him to keep talking.
His wide shoulders hefted, and she wondered what all he carried on them. “Family’s got no money, and it’s just not what interests me. I prefer working with my hands. I like this class, though. English and math are the only advanced classes I take.”
“Math and English. Interesting combination.”
He snorted, his lips curving upward. “Yeah, well, math just comes easy to me, and English… well, um… I’d heard about your class.” At her lifted brow, he continued, “Everyone says you’re the sh—um… you’re the best. You care about students, and you teach literature in a way that makes it about real life. I wanted to know about that.”
“It’s nice to know that’s my reputation because I do care about my students.” Silence ensued for another moment. “So, tell me what you’d like to do with your life, Russ, because I definitely don’t think that college is for everyone. My brothers and one of my sisters joined the military after high school. They didn’t get their advanced education until they were a bit older. And not all of it was through college.”
Her words appeared to surprise him as he continued to hold her gaze. He’d adopted her pose, his hips resting against a nearby table, his arms now unfurling from having been crossed over his chest as his breath released.
“I don’t know. I know I don’t want to work in a grocery. I know I like working with my hands, but other than that, I have no idea. I just hate… hate…”
She waited as he struggled, then asked softly, “What do you hate, Russ?”