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“You passed on the biology job, too?” asked Georgie.
“Hell yeah. The Vimy trip sealed it for me.”
“How?” asked Eden.
“Travelling with students was ten times worse than being in the classroom with them. It felt like a punishment and basically reconfirmed that I don’t even LIKE teenagers. I thought, what the”—he mouthed fuck—“am I doing, spending valuable time with these little shits? I’m so over it.”
Crossing her arms, Eden huffed. “Why’d you become a teacher, then?”
“Honestly? I thought it would be easy.”
Georgie didn’t dare look at Eden, who was probably fuming with Of course he fucking did side-eye. Instead, she smiled as Brian slid his hand through his new ’do. “So why Vancouver?”
“A buddy of mine started up a café and is raking it in. Italian coffees. Cappuccinos, espressos—they’re all the rage out there, and he wants to open more locations. I’ll be an early investor and hopefully help him turn his caffeine-soaked hobby into a real business.”
“Vancouver today. Tomorrow, Canada,” said Georgie.
Her lip curled, Eden spit out a terse “Congrats.”
“Thanks.” Brian’s gaze swung back to Georgie. “Well, looks like we both landed on our feet.” He extended his hand. “No hard feelings?”
Three months earlier, Georgie would’ve told the manipulative dick where to shove his handshake and smarmy attitude, but losing her job had shifted something inside her. If anything, Georgie felt sorry for Brian. Happy, self-confident people don’t scheme and cheat to get ahead, and while there was nothing she could do to change his repulsive past behaviour, she could change how she reacted to it, and forgiving him was a great place to start.
Georgie clasped his hand, giving it a firm single shake. “No hard feelings. Best of luck, Brian.”
“You too.” Balling up his tie, he gathered his backpack. “Take care, Law…Shuster.”
Eden waited for him to leave the room, then said, “Coffee?” She made a face. “Like that’s gonna be the next big thing!”
With a shrug, Georgie picked up a banker’s box packed with her classroom possessions. “You sure I don’t need to bring anything tomorrow?”
“Nope. Just Oliver, your mum, and Will.” Eden looped her bag over her shoulder. “We’ve got it covered. We even bought little Canadian flags.”
Walking out of the lounge and down the hall, past her classroom and student locker, the school’s war memorial and Laporte’s office, Georgie teared up again. “I can’t believe this is it.”
“I know, but look!” Eden held the front door open. “Your future beckons!”
Waiting outside, Oliver held a bouquet of pink hydrangeas. “Hello.” He smiled.
Georgie’s heart did a sloppy triple salchow. “Hello…”
Eden whispered in her ear, “See you tomorrow.” She grinned at Oliver then skipped down the stone steps, turning left toward home.
“I’ll take that.” Oliver set the bouquet on top of her belongings and removed the box from her hands.
“You and flowers!” Collecting the hydrangeas, Georgie leaned in and kissed him. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Always.” His gaze lingered. “How’d it go?”
“Okay.” She sighed as they meandered down the steps. “I feel sad saying goodbye.”
“I thought you might. You’ve been here a long time.”
She glanced over her shoulder, an ache heavy in her chest. It’s wild to think I won’t be back.
“Did you have a favourite teacher here when you were a student?” asked Oliver.
“I had two: Mrs. Seguin who played music with her geography slideshows, and Miss Montgomery, my Grade 9 English teacher. She had us read whatever we wanted for twenty minutes each week. I chose hockey biographies.”
