Teaching Rowan (Claimed 2)

Rowan

"Miss Lassiter," Colby Jenson tugs on the hem of my shirt, trying to get my attention. "How come the principal is lookin' at you funny?"

"Hmm?" I ask, distracted by Jamie and Roger, who are headed toward their bus. Ever since our talk in the lunchroom on Tuesday, Roger has been following her around like he's her personal security guard. And I'm pretty sure they were holding hands under their worktable this afternoon. He likes her, and I'm guessing that's why he was picking on her at lunch.

Little boys are so weird when they like a girl!

"Principal Johnson is lookin' at you funny," Colby says again and then he scrunches his face up into his imitation of Principal Johnson's usual glower. "Like this."

I glance over my shoulder to see the man in question standing beneath the awning with his arms crossed over his chest, silently observing. Just like Colby said, he's looking at me. Glowering, really. Wow. Colby's impression is pretty spot on. Johnson looks like he's perpetually sucking on a Warhead candy, but his scowl is even more severe than usual.

He notices me looking at him and meets my gaze, crooking a finger.

Crap. Why do I always look? Being nosy gets me every time!

I gulp, nodding to let Johnson know I'll be there soon.

He turns on his heels and walks back inside the school.

"Shit."

"You said a bad word!" Colby hisses, popping his eyes open wide.

"You're right, I did," I say, not lying to him. How can I possibly teach the kids to always be honest if I'm willing to lie every time it's more convenient than telling them the truth? "I shouldn't have said that, but sometimes even teachers slip up and make mistakes."

"How come you said it?" he demands. Colby is always curious. He would ask questions all day every day if I'd let him. He's very perceptive and has a quick mind. He's also eager to learn. He should be in the Gifted and Talented program, but he's too young to test until next year.

"Because Principal Johnson makes me nervous," I confess, smoothing my hands down my shirt to make sure it's in place. "Kind of like how he makes you nervous sometimes."

"Oh." Colby's little face scrunches again. "He's not very nice, Miss Lassiter."

He's not wrong.

"Your mom is pulling up now, honey. I'll see you on Monday, all right?"

"Okay. Bye, Miss Lassiter!" He waves at me and then takes off toward his mom's SUV, his backpack bouncing on his back as he runs.

Once he's in the car, I glance around to make sure the rest of my students are all on their way home. Jamie and Roger are climbing up the steps to their bus. And I was right today. They were definitely holding hands under the table because they're holding hands again.

Crap. I'm going to have to move one of them to another table. I hate to do it because Jamie desperately needs friends, but I can't have them holding hands in class. Besides, third grade relationships last, like, two days. And then drama ensues, and a breakup happens. It takes a few days before peace is finally restored. I can't have them at the same table when all of that goes down. It'll get ugly.

Little kid relationships are very dramatic.

I watch until Jamie and Roger disappear up the steps of the bus and then turn to make my way back inside the building. I feel a little like I'm headed toward my doom. It's so different than how I've felt every other day this week when I couldn't wait to get back inside to see Sebastian.

I'm in love with him. Stars in my eyes, floating through the day with a smile on my face, unable to keep my mind off him. All I have to do is think about him and I melt into a little pool of happiness. He is amazing. I feel like I've known him forever and like I'm discovering him all at the same time. He makes me feel so much, so easily.

Principal Johnson does not engender the same happiness.

I'm Frodo, marching resolutely toward Mordor where Sauron and his beastly armies await. Only Sauron is less dark lord and more elderly despot. And I would make a terrible Hobbit. I don't like walking that much. Or potatoes.

The elf is kind of hot though.

I make a quick stop by my classroom to grab my stuff in case I need an excuse to hurry out of whatever fresh hell awaits me in Johnson's office. My phone is in my desk. I pull it out to check for messages but have nothing from Sebastian. He hasn't texted me all day, so I'm guessing he's tied up with whatever Leslie Holland called him about. I hope it's not anything bad.

His job is way more stressful than mine. I honestly don't know how he carries it all as effortlessly as he does. His phone is constantly going off as issues arise at one school or another. He handles everything with ease, shooting off replies without missing a beat. It's pretty hot to witness him in work mode. And it definitely doesn't suck that he wears those suits every day. The man looks damn good in a suit.

He looks even better when we get home at the end of the day and he loses the tie and jacket and roll his sleeves up. He always undoes the first few buttons of his shirt too, providing me with tantalizing like peeks at his chest. He looks so wicked and intense, but he's the exact opposite. He's caring, considerate, and thoughtful. Okay, and also a little intense and wicked. But not in a bad way.