Her friendly gaze shifts between us. “I assume you’re Summer and Austin Hawthorne?”
“Yes!” I snap to attention before shaking my head in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“My name is Mrs. Baxter and I’m the office secretary. I pretty much do everything around here, so if you need anything, all you have to do is ask.” Her lips lift as she claps her hands together with excitement. “It’s so thrilling to have another generation of Hawthornes roaming these halls again. It’s been,” her brow furrows as she does a bit of mental math before giving up with a sheepish shrug, “well, since your father was here. We’re all delighted by your arrival.”
The quick glance Austin and I exchange speaks volumes.
Thrilled is not the word I would use to describe how we’ve been welcomed. It’s more like we’re lepers freshly released from the colony. I’m tempted to tell her so but hold my tongue at the last minute. In no way do I want this woman to think we’re ungrateful for her kindness or that we expect to be greeted like royalty.
“Anyway,” Mrs. Baxter continues, interrupting my thoughts, “I’m sure you would like to see your schedules for the semester.”
“Yes,” I agree while Austin remains his stoic self, “that would be great.”
Humming under her breath, the older woman shuffles around a few papers before discovering what she’s searching for. “Here you go, young lady.” She gives me the slip before turning to my brother. Her movements stall as she blinks at him.
“My goodness, you certainly are a handsome young lad.” The secretary waggles a finger at him as I attempt to rein in my laughter. “You’re the spitting image of your father at the same age.” She shakes away the memories. “Remarkable.”
A dull red color stains Austin’s cheeks as he squirms beneath her open perusal. He’s grown accustomed to the staring, but not the forthright inspection. Most take one look at his sulkiness and give him a wide birth while admiring him from afar.
“Um, thank you?”
Now that we have our schedules, we study them in silence. I have—English lit 12, calculus, physics, AP French, AP environmental science, and a blow off class, AP psychology. It’s identical to what I would have had in Chicago, which is reassuring. I peek at Austin’s class list and notice that his is also the same. Pre-calculus, chemistry, English lit 12, physical education, regular psychology, French III, and study hall. I can help him with all of those classes if he needs it.
“I’ve asked two students from council to stop by and show you around.” She flashes another pleasant smile as if trying to put us at ease. “Hopefully, that will help your first day run smoothly.”
“Thank you,” I say, voice brimming with gratitude.
“It’s not a problem. Everyone here wants you to feel at home.” She waves away my appreciation before glancing toward the closed office door inside the spacious room. “The headmaster was looking forward to greeting both of you. Unfortunately, he was called into a meeting. It’ll have to wait until another time.”
Let’s hope not. It’s been a long-standing joke in our family that my parents should bite the bullet and rent office space for Austin next to our former principal since he was a frequent visitor. As those memories roll through my head, the door leading to the hallway opens and a petite blonde with soft blue eyes walks in.
“Good morning, Mrs. B,” she greets.
“Morning, Delilah.” The older woman glances at the clock on the wall. “You’re right on time.”
Mrs. Baxter waves toward my brother and the girl turns to us with a ready smile on her face. Austin straightens to his full height. I give him a bit of side eye and notice the way he’s staring at the new arrival.
“This is Austin. If you wouldn’t mind giving him a brief tour before first hour and showing him where his classes are located, that would be helpful.”
Delilah’s eyes widen as color rises in her cheeks before she glances away. My brother takes a step toward her before grinding to a halt. A strange tension crackles in the air between them that changes the energy in the office.
Uncomfortable with Austin’s unwavering interest, Delilah clutches her books to her chest before clearing her throat. “Can I see your schedule?”
Even in the silence of the room, her voice is barely audible. She’s not the first girl to get tongue-tied in Austin’s presence and she won’t be the last. I almost want to pat her on the shoulder and advise her to steer clear. I love my brother more than anything, but the guy can be kind of a man whore. And this girl looks way too sweet to survive him. He’ll chew her up and spit her out before she even realizes what’s happening.
Instead of handing over the schedule, Austin closes the distance between them, crowding into the girl’s personal space so she is forced to look at the paper as he holds it in his hand.