Page 141 of Fall Fake-Out

Apparently, the entire town of Autumn Ridge has reached the same conclusion.

Wade Stevenson likes me and wants to be with me for real.

The problem is that, after spending years believing the exact opposite, it’s hard to just flip a switch in my mind. It takes a lot of deep thought and analyzation.

So I do what any rational English teacher would do.

I start collecting evidence like I’m writing a five-paragraph essay. But really, I don’t need proof anymore. I just like having it because it makes me smile.

Incident #1 - Monday in the principal’s office

The interruption comes halfway through third period, through the crackling of the classroom speaker.

“Miss Langford?”

Every student immediately stops working.

I glance toward the ceiling. “Yes, Mrs. Albany?”

“Mr. Stevenson needs you in the office real quick.”

Half the class makes an obnoxious amount of noise. “Oooooh.”

I motion for them to quiet down. “Now? Or can it wait until after class?”

“Now. It’s urgent.”

I point toward the students. “Work on your vocabulary words.” But the teasing only gets louder as I exit the room.

By the time I reach the front office, I’m already mentally preparing myself for an angry parent. Or worse, what if this has something to do with Ashtyn? At the dance a few days ago, she seemed like she had finally moved on and couldn’t care less about Wade, but what if we were wrong?

“What’s going on?” I ask Mrs. Albany as I pass by her desk.

She looks up from her computer. “Do I look like Mr. Steveson’s keeper?”

Yes, that’s literally your job.

She points over her shoulder. “He just said to send you back.”

I knock once on Wade’s office door.

“Come in.”

I step inside and find him sitting behind his desk. The room is empty. No parent or student in sight. No Ashtyn Ellis.

My brows push down in confusion. “What’s this emergency?”

“I missed you.” He stands, walking around his desk to me. His toe kicks the door shut, and it’s pretty attractive. “I missed you terribly.”

“Wade!” I chide as he takes me into his arms.

“What? You haven’t visited my office today. What’s a man supposed to do?”

He wraps me in one of his glorious hugs, the close proximity alone sending a fleet of butterflies into my stomach.

“It’s ten-thirty in the morning.”

“Exactly.” His forehead drops briefly to mine. “I thought you’d come say hi by now.”