Can't Text This

by Teagan Hunter

  I’m too late.

  “No!” I shout.

  “What was that?”

  “N-No. This can’t wait. It has to do with his guest.”

  “Are you certain, dear? I don’t see how that could be possible if it’s a personal matter.”

  “It is. Trust me. Please, let me in there.”

  She frowns. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “I-I…”

  I am so getting fired for this…

  I don’t wait another second. I push past her and barge into the room.

  “Miss Andrews!” she calls after me, obviously upset.

  “Principal Gladden! I need to speak with you immediately.”

  I hear her footsteps race after me. “Sir, I am so sorry. She ran right past me.”

  The balding man sitting behind the desk raises a hand. “It’s fine, Mary Ann. I’ll take it from here.”

  I can feel her glare as I stand ramrod straight, not breaking eye contact with the principal.

  The door clicks closed behind me and Gladden smiles my way.

  I give him a tentative smile in return, my nerves beginning to eat at me.

  Raymond Gladden is one of the biggest reasons I took this job. He’s welcoming, inviting, and kind while also a no-nonsense type of guy.

  I liked him at once.

  “Miss Andrews, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Sir, I…I, um…I-I…”

  His lips twist into a grin. “Yes?”

  “I-I’m sorry, sir. I’m nervous.”

  “Yes, I can tell, Miss Andrews.” He leans across his desk, folding his hands together. “What’s going on, Montana?”

  “Sir, I…I’ve been seeing a student’s father since summer. W-We were not aware of our…predicament until the second parent-teacher meeting. We had no idea—I swear, sir.”

  He nods, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I see. And after you found out? Then what?”

  “We…uh…” I wince. “We continued to date, sir, but I swear, I did not treat Xavier any different. I—”

  “Xavier?” he questions. “Xavier Levy, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s a good student.”

  “He is, sir, very bright and kind.”

  “Yes, I agree.” He nods again. “Please continue.”

  “I… Well, I read the handbook and couldn’t find anything about this…unique situation. However, I wanted to be very transparent about my…uh, relationship with Mr. Cross.”

  Gladden begins to laugh.

  I stand here, dumbfounded, because I have no idea what’s going on. I can feel Brandon staring holes in the back of my head and I’m surprised he hasn’t spoken up yet, but I can’t turn around and look at him. I won’t give him the satisfaction; I’m already embarrassed enough as it is.

  “Uh, sir?” I say when he still hasn’t calmed down.

  The principal shakes his head. “I am sorry for the outburst, I just find this whole situation to be funny.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Montana, there are no formal rules against dating the parent of a student. It’s not even in our ethics handbook because this issue is complicated and unique to each situation. Would I prefer it not happen? Well, yes, as the pitfalls should the relationship turn sour are something we’d like to avoid. But, we understand there are sometimes things that are beyond our control, such as you two beginning to date before Xavier was your student. You’re allowed to have a life outside of school.”

  The weight that’s been sitting on my shoulders for weeks begins to lift.

  “However, there are a few precautions we would like to take.”

  And it’s back.

  He waves his hand toward the couch behind me. “You had a wonderful idea—care to share it again, Mr. Cross?”

  Mr. Cross…Robbie!

  I whirl around, and there he sits. It’s Robbie, not Brandon like I thought.

  He gives me that lopsided grin I love so much. “Hey, Monts.”

  “Hey, Monts—that’s the best you can come up with?” I smile back at him.

  Robbie shrugs. “We have company.”

  Our company clears his throat, and we both try not to laugh.

  “As you were saying, Mr. Cross,” he prompts with obvious humor in his voice.

  “Right. I suggested that, since it’s still the beginning of the year, we move Xavie to another class.”

  “Another class? I-I don’t want him to miss his friends, Robbie. That’s tough on a kid.”

  “I know it is, but hear me out…what if we moved him to second grade? Last year, Holly and I were approached by Principal Gladden himself about pushing him up a grade. We didn’t talk about it again, but he called this morning to see if we’d thought about it more before the school year progressed much further. Figured we’d use the opportunity to chat.” Robbie sits forward on the couch. “Xavie’s smart. He’s gifted, and he’s already in two enrichment classes. Why not move him up?”

  I mull over what he’s saying.

  Xavier is smart, probably the brightest kid in my class. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be in second grade, and if he’s going to move up, he should do so at the beginning of the year.

  “What does Xavier think?” I ask him.

  “He’s open to it. He said he’d miss his friends and his teacher”—Robbie grins—“but I think he’ll adjust rather quickly. Besides, he’s smitten with the idea of being ‘just like Uncle Zach’ and skipping a grade.”

  “You never told me Zach was a bookworm.”

  “Oh, did I leave that out?” he teases.

  “I think this is a great start,” Gladden interjects. “Miss Andrews, if you don’t mind, we can continue discussing this tomorrow if you feel we need to. I’d like to speak with Mr. Cross more before I head home for the day.”

  “I, um, no…sir. I don’t have anything else I’d like to discuss.”

  “Great.” He stands, moving around his desk to the other side. He takes my hand in his, shaking it. “Breathe, Montana. It’s good for your soul. We’ll get this figured out. You did nothing wrong.”

  I want to throw my arms around his neck and squeeze the life out of him, but that would be so inappropriate.

  Instead, I return his handshake. “Thank you so much, Principal Gladden.”

  “Of course. Oh, and that other issue of yours? We’ll get it taken care of.”

  I look at him, puzzled.

  “Your coworker’s antics will not be tolerated, and they’re real rich coming from him considering all the drama he caused last year after cheating on his fiancée with another teacher.”

  My mouth drops open, then I snap it closed at once, surprised by this information but trying to remain professional.

  “That is an…interesting development in the story I heard.”

  “I’ll speak with him,” he promises again. “You have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, get out of here. I have an appointment at seven and we have things to chat about,” Robbie says as I turn to exit.

  I grin over at him, relief washing over me.

  I have a date to make.

  Twenty-Eight

  Robbie

  The last time my heart was trying to jump out of my chest from nerves was when I was in the delivery room waiting for Xavier to be born.

  But this, waiting on Monty? It’s a close goddamn second.

  My meeting with the principal ended about thirty minutes after Monty left and then I raced over to Holly’s with Xavier in tow.

  We spent some time going over everything, signing all the papers we needed to, and getting our son set up to begin second grade tomorrow.

  Who knew the little swimmer that won would turn out to be a fucking genius?

  I look around the nearly empty bar; it’s Monday and there’s not much of a crowd. I sip on the water sitting in front of me, waiting.

  Someone slides onto the stool next to mine, and I don’t have to look over to know wh
o it is.

  “I’m going to say something very forward, and you’ll have to excuse me for this—it’s the alcohol talking.”

  I grin as she repeats the words she spoke that first night, the ones that led us straight to the bathroom.

  I turn her way. She’s wearing the same outfit she was when we met here the first time, and I can already feel my cock beginning to grow.

  “You have the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” She leans toward me. “And I want to kiss them.”

  I haul her off the stool and straight back to the women’s bathroom, not stopping until she’s sitting on the countertop and I’m planted firmly between her legs.

  She grins up at me. “Hey, Python.”

  “Oh, fuck.” I laugh, and then I capture her mouth with mine.

  Home.

  We’ve only been apart for a week, but it feels like a fucking lifetime, especially when my heart is bursting with love for this buttoned-up bombshell.

  When I finally pull my mouth from hers, I say, “I missed the hell out of you, Montana.”

  “I missed you more. How about you don’t do that to me again?”

  “I won’t, I promise. I told you, it was a momentary lapse in judgment. I’m not always so stupid.”

  “Better not be. I don’t think I could survive it again.”

  “I know, but I think we’re in the clear…if you’re good with that. What do you say?”

  “Yes.”

  I rest my head against hers. “I’m sorry for not having faith in us. I was just worried. I didn’t want you to lose your job or get in trouble. I didn’t want to put that pressure on you. I’m not worth that.”

  She grabs my face, bringing it up until our eyes meet.

  “You’re worth more than that, Robbie—so much more.”

  Her words hit the center of my chest and it knocks the breath out of me.

  “How can you even say that?”

  “Because I love you, you dumbass.”

  I rear back at her words. My perfect, girl-next-door, goody-two-shoes Monty…she just cussed.

  And it sounded as absolutely ridiculous as I thought it would.

  Laughing, I push my forehead against hers again.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes—so much.”

  “Good, because I love you too.”

  I seal my lips to hers again, and this time I don’t stop.

  Epilogue

  Monty

  One year later

  “Miss Andrews, can I have another donut?”

  “Call her Monty, dude. How many times have we told you?”

  Xavier smiles sheepishly from his perch at the counter. “Sorry. Monty, can I have another donut?”

  “May you,” I correct him.

  “Yes, I may.” He grabs the last donut sitting inside the box and takes a huge bite of it. He pats his stomach. “Hits the spot.”

  We did it.

  We made it through the school year without letting Xavier know we’re dating.

  There was a lengthy discussion about whether or not we should tell him, especially since there was no longer any chance of a conflict with him moving to second grade, but we decided it’d be best to keep things under wraps. He did start the year as my student, after all, and it only felt right.

  The afternoon school let out, we went for ice cream, all three of us together for the first time.

  It was the best afternoon I’d had in a long while.

  “Once you’re done with your donut, can you go grab Thumbelina?”

  Xavier sits up, mouth twisted in confusion. “What for? It’s not time for her to be out yet.”

  Robbie lifts a brow at his kid. “First, because I said so. Second, because I said so. And third, in case you were wondering if there was one, be—”

  “Because you said so,” his son interrupts. “Yeah, yeah. I get it.”

  I try hard not to laugh, and I find myself doing that a lot lately.

  Xavier might favor Holly in looks, but he is all Robbie in personality, right down to the sarcasm.

  He finishes off his donut, hops down from the stool, and then snaps his fingers. “I remember!”

  I stare after him as he sprints down the hall, having no clue what he’s going on about.

  “Your kid is weird,” I tell Robbie once he’s out of earshot.

  “He gets it from you.”

  “Me? I’m hardly ever around him!”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. Besides, kids are very easily influenced—all it takes is like five minutes a day and boom! They’re walking and talking just like you.”

  I glare at him over the counter. “Uh huh, and what if you spend, oh, about eight years with them?”

  He grins and mutters, “Dammit.”

  “Monty 2,243, Robbie 4.”

  He points at me. “But at least I have four.”

  “It’s way better than the zero you did have.”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “Dad! Dad! Come quick! You won’t believe what Thumbelina did!”

  I charge down the hall, worried about Xavier and the bunny. I skid into the room and stop dead in my tracks.

  “Seriously? You scared the you-know-what out of me!”

  Xavier falls into a fit of giggles. Robbie comes up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

  “Oh my gosh, she’s at it again, huh?”

  “You think you’re really clever, don’t you?”

  He nods. “The cleverest.”

  I stare down at the bunny, warmth and love spreading through me. She’s tucked inside her cage with a carboard sign resting against her.

  Sprawled across the sign in what can only be Xavier’s handwriting is a question meant just for me.

  Will you move in with us?

  Robbie’s lips brush against my ear and a chill runs down my spine. “What do you say, Monts?”

  “You’re telling me I’d have to live here with two boys? Two boys who fart and can’t pick their socks up to save their lives? One’s a good cook, but the other leaves something to desired.” I look left. “No offense, Xavier.”

  He holds his hands up. “None taken.”

  “Is that what you’re saying though?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “No, that’s what we’re saying,” Xavier corrects, eyes glistening with hope and excitement.

  I turn my head and see that Robbie has the exact same look on his face.

  “Say yes, Monty,” he whispers. “Say yes.”

  “Yes.”

  He grins triumphantly and smacks a big wet kiss to my cheek.

  “Yay!” Xavier shouts, doing a little dance of his own. “No take-backs!”

  “Yeah, girlfriend, no take-backs.”

  I wouldn’t dream of it.

  THE END

  Let’s Get Textual Preview

  Haven’t met Zach, Delia, and the S’mores Brothers yet? Keep reading for a preview of Let’s Get Textual!

  Chapter 1

  Unknown: Are we still meeting tomorrow?

  I stare at the text on my phone, brows pinched in confusion because it’s not a number I recognize.

  Then it hits me: Liam must have a new number…again, and he must have forgotten to tell me…again.

  Brothers are so much fun.

  Me: Yep. What time again?

  Unknown: 2

  Me: I’ll be there.

  Tossing my phone onto the empty pillow beside me, I think back to our conversation on Wednesday. I could have sworn he said two-thirty because he’ll be across town and there’s no way he could arrive by two, but maybe he changed his mind? Either way, I’ll make it. I love my bi-weekly lunch meetings with my brother.

  “Babe, you done yet?”

  An unfriendly muffled response filters through the bathroom door. I want to argue back, to say something equally as unfriendly, but it’s no use.

  “Whatever,” I mutter, rolling on my side and reachi
ng over to flip the lamp off.

  I lie awake, watching the minutes tick by on the clock on my bedside table. Ten minutes later, Caleb tiptoes in from the bathroom and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. He sits there for another two minutes, wringing his hands together, before he slides into the bed to lie beside me.

  He doesn’t say anything; neither do I.

  We’re at that point in our relationship—you know, the one where it’s more of a hassle to be together than to be apart. To be honest, we’ve coexisted in this place for about a month now. Caleb’s words have become curt, and I haven’t been a peach myself. We haven’t been intimate in weeks. Nothing in our relationship says relationship anymore. We’re simply biding our time until we can’t take it a second longer.

  I can’t take it a second longer.

  “Caleb?”

  “What?” His response comes out clipped, like he’s already done with this conversation before it’s begun.

  Another sign I’m about to ask the right thing.

  “What are we doing?”

  He sighs, and I can feel him run a hand over his face. “I’m not sure anymore, Delia.”

  “Should…” I lick my dry lips and push out a worried breath. “Should we break up?”

  Caleb rolls my way. On instinct, I reach out to brush away the lock of blond hair that falls over his eye. He grabs my hand, halting my movements, and I meet his stare. His dark blue eyes are sad, like he knew this was coming.

  I know what he’ll say before he says it.

  “I think so.”

  Caleb gathers me into his arms as the tears begin to fall.

  I’m sad, and though it shouldn’t, it surprises me. We’ve been together for six months now—quite a run when it comes to college relationships—and, well, I’m used to him…used to his touch, his smell, his smile. I’ll miss him, but I know he’s right. We should break up, especially before we start hating each other, which is exactly where we’re headed. We’ve started picking fights, waiting and begging for the other to call it quits. We’re too comfortable, too scared to call this what it is—over.