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“Hi, Luke. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to call you like this. Or maybe you were expecting this call? I work at Tripp Lake County Regional High School. I believe you spoke with my boss, Virginia.”
“Ah, yes, I thought you might call soon. So, you’re the teacher.”
“Yes, and I cannot apologize enough for what my students did to your window. The second I found out—”
“They’re kids. It’s okay,” Chloe says. “But I like this idea about the field trip. The café isn’t huge, but we do host yoga classes here, so we have some space that we can work with. What were you thinking?”
I appreciate Chloe’s no-nonsense attitude. It helps settle my nerves and get me back on track. I dive into the details with her, discussing dates and times that might work for both of us.
“That’s pretty soon but we can make it work,” she says when we pick a date. “We don’t have yoga classes that day so we can use that space. How do you feel about talking about the history of Pride month a bit?”
“Me?” My voice nearly breaks.
“Well, you can if you want to, but I was thinking me and my staff would take care of it.”
My relief must be palpable even through the phone. “Oh. Right. Yes. That sounds much more appropriate.”
“Uh huh.”
I don’t know if that’s a skeptical “uh huh” or a droll “uh huh,” and it’s freaking me out to ponder it. Sebastian wouldn’t go and tell his boss, right? He doesn’t seem like the type to out people like that, but I have no idea how close the café workers are. Maybe he gossiped and word already got around.
“Is there anything else you want us to include?” Chloe says.
“No, I mean, whatever you think is appropriate,” I say.
“Okay, it won’t be a problem. I think I can have my part-timers, Henry and Sebastian, on hand to help you with the kids. The cats might get a bit overwhelmed, but a few of them are outgoing enough to entertain a crowd, so I’ll make sure my staff is ready for it.”
My brain stopped at the word “Sebastian.” I knew this moment would come. I said as much to Sebastian himself last night. But it’s another thing to hear it out loud, to know that it’s final. This is really happening. I’m going to encounter Sebastian at work, and we’re both going to have to pretend last night didn’t happen.
I never see guys a second time. It’s always one time and out. Always. No kissing. No repeats. Those are the rules that have kept me safe, kept me hidden. So the thought of seeing Sebastian again, especially in such an importantcontext, has me on the verge of panic. I start wondering if I can call out sick that day. Or maybe I can break an arm or ankle. Would it be worse to break something than to go through with this?
I tell myself I’m being ridiculous and force myself to tune back in to what Chloe is saying. I need to be part of this planning process. The lesson plan should be mine, even if Chloe is going to do most of the talking. I promise her I’ll circle back with more details. I need the weekend to plan, I say. The truth is that I couldn’t be more relieved to get off the phone with her and pretend that call never happened. It’s all of my worst fears come to life. My personal life and my work are hurtling toward each other, and all I can do is pray that I can contain the crash.
“Hey, Luke, I saw you were on the phone. Was that Chloe?”
And now Virginia is here. Because of course she is.
I smear on a smile and invite her to sit with me at my desk. Despite my clenching stomach, I go back through all the details of the field trip with her, and I think I even manage to sound excited about the whole thing.
It’s like pulling out my own teeth. All I want to do is run away from this. All I want to do is forget last night happened. Unfortunately, it seems like the world isn’t going to let me off so easy this time. I have no choice but to go through with this field trip thing, and I’m simplygoing to have to hope Sebastian stays true to his word when we’re face-to-face again.
Chapter Nine
Sebastian
“LET’S TRY IT FROM THE beginning,” I say.
The dozen kids arrayed in the dance room groan, but they don’t really mean it. They hop right back to their starting positions. The moment I start the music, they’re hitting the beats, moving more or less in sync. The youngest ones have the hardest time keeping up, but this group is pretty good. Their timing is very nearly on point, and with a few more weeks of practice, I think they’re going to put on a good performance.
I couldn’t be prouder.
As I watch the kids go through their routine, I can’t help flashing back to that moment in the bar with Luke, the way we connected over exactly this. I know if he was here he’d feel the same way I do: overflowing with pride. Evenif the kids miss a step or a beat, they’re getting it. They’re memorizing the routine. They’re getting into the flow of the music. They’re using their bodies to make something together. As that realization ripples through the group, I can all but see their eyes lighting up one by one.
Luke would understand. I wish I could call him and tell him about it. I wish I could show him a video of my kids learning their steps. I wish I could gush to him about how great they’re going to be when it comes time for their performance at the upcoming Pride event over in Everett.
I can’t, of course, and it’s killing me, even as I clap for the kids and give them a few light corrections. Luke would absolutely freak out if I texted him, but no matter how I try to focus on teaching, the awareness that I have his number buzzes in the back of my brain like a fly circling my head. I told him what we did wouldn’t leave my bedroom, that we could go back to being strangers. Part of me wonders if he blocked my number to cover his tracks. There’s one easy way to find out, but no, no, I shouldn’t bother him. He wants or needs to live his life this way. It’s not my place to force him out into the light. I have to admit, however, it feels a little ridiculous that I can’t even send a text without potentially traumatizing the guy.
