Page 130 of Apparently, I’m Trouble

I’d always been too much for most people–most men especially. But I’d shown Theo every bit of what they hated most about me, and he loved me anyway.

He didn’t need me to take care of him. He didn’t need me to filter myself. I didn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He could take me exactly as I was, and god, I couldn’t describe how good it felt to know that.

Kira’s expression cleared, like she might have understood what I meant.

“I mean,” I went on, “there’s more than that, but I don’t think you want to listen to me gush about your father.”

Kira nodded, her expression definitely more than a little grossed out. “Yeah. I’ve already had enough of him gushing about you.”

My gut reaction was to ask Kira what he’d said about me, but I didn’t need to.

Kira tugged on her ponytail as she said, “He told me that he’s never felt as… I don’t know, free? As he does with you. He has all these obligations, like work and my aunt and me. But he has fun with you, in a way he can’t have with anyone else. He said you’re what he didn’t know he needed until you were just… there.”

I bit my lip and tried to squash down every bit of feeling. This was about Kira, not me. She was trying to understand how her dad could go from the man she’d known her entire life to this version who’d fallen in love.

She lifted her gaze to mine and gave her ponytail a final tug. “And I think I get it. Really. I hate that he’s so upset now. But I don’t know if I can be okay with–” she waved her hands at me and the door “–you and him.”

I tightened my lips and nodded. That was fair. After what she’d been through, I couldn’t blame her for how she felt.

“But I don’t want to be mad at you anymore.”

Well, that was something. For the first time in what felt like the longest time, I was actually relieved. Still struggling not to burst into tears, but relieved.

“Oh, good.” I gave her a hopeful smile. “Then I’ll have to try not to screw up again.”

Kira gave me her own small smile as she rolled her shoulders forward, adjusted her backpack, and thanked me for stopping to talk.

On her way out, she paused by the door and shyly murmured, “And, um, thanks for the handkerchief. I love it.”

As the door swung shut behind her, I looked down at my hands. They’d stopped shaking.

Which was definitely preferable because after this conversation, what I had to do next probably wouldn’t turn out as well as this had.

“No. And that’s final.”

Well, she was as stubborn as ever. And Lilly called me a bulldozer.

“But I’m the problem, aren’t I? So give Lilly her job back and fire me.”

Rutton pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know it isn’t that simple.”

I pressed my palms to her desk, looming over her and staring her down. “What if I quit? Will you give it back to her then?”

“No.” She sighed into her hand. When she looked up at me, her expression shifted into something softer.

“I understand what you’re trying to do, Mia. But I’ve already spoken to both Mr Jackson and Miss Fares about this. This isn’t just about you. It’s about the parents and how they feel about her management style.”

I lifted my hands from the desk and crossed them over my chest. “What have they told you?”

“That she’s not suited for management. She’s an excellent teacher; there’s no denying that. But she struggles to present at the PTA, and her anxiety keeps her from deciding on units. We’re a result-based school. Her progress looked favorable, but the reality is that she hasn’t met any of her deliverables.”

I squinted at Rutton. She was wrong. Lilly delivered in other ways. Ways that counted for more than our next line-up of units.

“What if we get our APP spots?”

Rutton let out another long-suffering sigh. She was definitely tired of talking about this. “Then she would’ve met one of her deliverables.”

“The most important one.”