Love You Better (Better Love 1)

Amelia laughs and shakes her head. “Girl, no one is as awesome as me.” She gives me a wink, grabs her leather satchel, and shoots a text to Ms. Pierce, letting her know we’re leaving for the day. Then we walk out of the office together.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Amelia asks as we make our way to the side lot. “You out on the prowl?”

“Nope.” I pop the P and shake my head with a smile. “I did that last night. Tonight’s Netflix and Fill with Kelley.”

“Ah, yes, Kelley Pierce. The prince of the PP&A dynasty. Sexy ginger and exceptionally boring bachelor.”

I laugh. She’s not wrong. My best friend is friggen gorgeous. Auburn hair, hazel eyes with bright flecks of green and gold, plus a body that I’m pretty sure a lot of the students on the Butler University campus want to lick. Professors, too, probably. He’s a regular Irish Adonis, but dang if he couldn’t try to have some fun once in a while.

“When are you going to hook him up with one of your friends?” She waggles her brows at me, and my stomach twists. “A fine specimen like him shouldn’t go to waste. Hell, if I weren’t happily married...”

I know she’s only joking, but I can never stop the initial jolt of discomfort anytime Kelley’s love life comes up (no matter how non-existent it may be). It’s unfair and irrational, especially given my personal weekend proclivities, but no matter how much I fight it, it’s always there. That nagging sting of jealousy and anxiety. It’s always hiding in the dark recesses of my mind, ready to strike at even the slightest hint of competition.

Ugh. I’m such a cliché.

We reach our cars, and I glance up, finding Amelia’s eyes on me, a curious expression on her face.

“What?” I ask. “Why are you studying me like I’m Mr. Harrison’s 2012 tax returns?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I don’t know why you won’t just admit it. I’m no fool, Ivy.”

I scoff. “What? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” She unlocks her car, opens the door, and slides in, popping that infuriating perfectly arched brow at me once more. If she doesn’t watch it, I’m going to shave it off. “You’re in denial, Ivy. And your face is turning bright red. Better blast that AC before you get home to Kelley for Netflix and Chill or your secret won’t be a secret anymore.”

“It’s Netflix and Fill, Ames!” I shout as she shuts her door and puts her car in drive. “Fill! There won’t be any chilling!”

My protests are futile, though, and she waves at me as she pulls away. I bet her eyebrow is still popped.

Curse the Gods of Overly Opinionated Friends.

2

“Good morning, Mr. Pierce!” Matthew, one of my eighth graders, calls out as he approaches me. I’m writing the day’s objectives on the board and waiting for my supervising teacher to show up. He’s usually late, but I like knowing that he trusts me with the classroom even though I’ve only been here a few weeks.

“Morning, Matthew. How was your weekend?”

“It was good! I went to my friend’s house, and we played video games and I hit a new high score and his mom ordered pizza.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“It was. Don’t worry, though. I finished the study guide.” He plops his Trapper Keeper on my desk and starts riffling around in it, digging through an unorganized stack of crumpled papers.

“Here!” he shouts as he pulls out last week’s study guide and hands it to me. “My mom says sorry about the coffee stain.”

I can’t help but laugh. We’re not supposed to have favorite students, but any teacher who tells you they don’t is fucking lying.

Matthew is one of my favorites. The kid can’t sit still to save his life, and more often than not he speaks as he’s raising his hand instead of waiting to be called on, but his enthusiasm for learning is unmatched. If my mind wasn’t made up to teach high school history, students like Matthew might make me consider teaching middle school.

“You tell your mom that it’s fine. I can still grade it with the coffee stain,” I grin. “What else did you do this weekend?”

“Just hung out with my friend and played his video games. It was only supposed to be for Friday night, but Mom asked if I could stay Saturday night, too.” Matthew shrugs, a little less excited but there’s still a buzzing energy around him

“Alright, well we’re still on for lunch today, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods, the excitement returning. “I brought fruit snacks and some granola bars.”

“Nice. I love fruit snacks,” I say with a grin. “Now go take your seat. Mr. Miller will be coming in any minute and then the fun begins.” Matthew laughs at my use of the word fun, but he eagerly heads to his desk. He enjoys this class even if he tries to pretend like he doesn’t.