Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the minutes ticking by at an agonizing pace while I wrapped up the lesson I’d been busy with. All I could think about was Tristin and what he might’ve written in that card.
When the bell finally rang, I waited impatiently for the last of the kids to leave the classroom and then tore the envelope open. I recognized Tristin’s handwriting immediately, smiling as I touched the soft indentations in the paper with my fingertips.
Come to the coast with me this weekend? it read in his elegant yet blocky writing. Wrightsville Beach. It’s beautiful this time of year. Everything will be taken care of. Just bring your bikini.
My tongue slid out between my lips, my heart beating a mile a minute. He wanted me to go away with him this weekend? For a whole weekend?
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It wouldn’t be the first time we’d be going away together, but it would be the first time as adults. Without chaperones.
I can always come home if —
My thoughts were interrupted by Beckett marching into my classroom, dragging a red-faced Lou behind him. He glared at me, then cut his gaze back to the boy and jabbed a thumb at him.
“This one has been acting up again. Get him under control, Brittany. We can’t have him causing a scene every day.”
My blood immediately started simmering. “Can we talk about this outside, please?” I glanced at Lou. “Do you want to sit down, honey? I’ll just have a quick word with Principal James, and then I’ll be back.”
Lou looked like he was about to burst into tears, nodding as he headed toward his desk. He sagged down into his chair like his legs had given out underneath him, and my heart ached for the little boy. He was only eight. No one should’ve been talking about him like that, but especially not his principal.
Beckett’s lips pressed into a hard line, but he jerked his head toward the door. “Fine. I’ll give you exactly two minutes, but only so you can tell me what you’re going to do about him.”
As he turned to leave, he saw the flowers sitting on the cabinet and spun back to me with fire spitting from his eyes. “Who are those from?”
“We can talk about that later.” Hiding my hand in front of my body where Lou wouldn’t be able to see it, I pointed discreetly at him. “In private.”
His expression hardened, a vein popping out in his neck. “Forget it. I have nothing to say to you. Keep that child in here. He’s becoming a danger to the rest of them.”
The door slammed behind him as he left, shaking so hard in the frame that the windows rattled. I sighed, closing my eyes and letting my head drop back to face the ceiling as I tried to rein in my frustration with him. Beckett should’ve known better than to act that way in front of one of our students, and now I was going to have to clean up his mess.
“Mr. James didn’t mean that,” I said to Lou, moving over to my desk but watching him closely. “He’s just worried about you. We all are.”
“That’s not true.” His voice quivered, and he ducked his head just as moisture started filling his eyes. “No one is worried about me. They’re just worried about what I’m going to do next.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. I’m worried about you, Lou,” I said. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He swiped angrily at his tears, then took out his homework book and started scribbling furiously in it while I tried to grade some papers.
A little while later, he started talking. Even though I knew that I should technically stop him, I didn’t and let him speak instead.
“Those flowers are really pretty,” he said. “My mom got flowers from someone once. My dad got mad and hit her, then he went away and never came back.”
My heart cracked open in my chest, bleeding pain into every nook and cranny of my soul. He wasn’t done, though. With Lou, there was always another, more tragic part of the story to come.
“The flowers were from her work,” he said. “For her birthday. My dad forgot it was her birthday. I should’ve told him. I didn’t know he’d forgotten.”
“That sucks,” I said. “All of it, but it’s not your fault, Lou. Sometimes grown-ups do bad things, and it’s up to us to take responsibility for those things.”
His lower lip trembled, and then he banged his fist on the table and shut down again. I didn’t push him to open up or to say anything else. If that was where our heart-to-heart ended, that was okay. He didn’t always react well when he’d opened up even just a little bit. It seemed like today was one of those days.
All I could do now was to stay with him, to lend my silent support and hope that the powers that be sorted something out for him soon. We had all these processes in place for our students, but every last one of them was failing Lou.
The trip to the coast with Tristin all but forgotten, I picked up my pen and went back to grading papers. I hated it when my kids were going through something and I was powerless to help them. There had to be something I could do for him. I just didn’t know what that something was.
It was devastating to sit there with him, to watch him fight to get his emotions under control, and to know that tomorrow and the next day would just be more of the same for him. He had his chin resting in his palm, his eyes unfocused as he stared out the window.
Sounds of laughter and talking, shrieks of joy, and the occasional piercing blow of a whistle filtered into the classroom from the playground outside. He should’ve been out there with the others, playing and enjoying his break. Instead, he was being ostracized even further by having been dumped in here with me.
I didn’t mind him being here, but it felt unfair to him. We should’ve been helping him, trying to get the others to include him at the very least. That feeling of failure threatened to overwhelm me, tears burning the backs of my eyes.
How was it possible that we had folders upon folders filled with policies and procedures, and none of them were of any use to us in this situation? It didn’t feel like it could be possible. It shouldn’t have been possible.
Silently vowing to take another look over it all later, I pressed my hand to my aching chest and sent up a quiet plea. If there’s anyone out there listening right now, anyone at all, please help me come up with a way to help him. I’m not even asking for you to do it by yourself. Just show me the way, put me on the right track, and I’ll do whatever it takes to follow through. Anything.
19
TRISTIN
Tristin: What do you think about the bear?
After hitting Send on the message, I set my phone down on my stomach and waited for her to reply. The sun was setting beyond the windows in my room, and I turned my head to watch it paint the sky in pastel colors above the towering treetops outside.
The phone buzzed a few seconds later. I grabbed it and unlocked it in one swift movement as I held it up in front of me to read her response. Texting her like this reminded me of all the hours we’d spent doing the same thing back in high school.
It was a little disquieting to think that so many years later, we were both in the same bedrooms we used to be in while we sent messages back and forth. In the same houses. Texting with the same person. Like nothing had changed or happened for either of us in between, and yet, so much had.
Brittany: I love it. My students did too. Your delivery sparked a few conversations I didn’t need to hear them having. Do you know what the correlation is between kissing and a dead fish?
A bark of laughter came out of me. Immediately clicking in the text box to reply, I scrolled through the options available and sent back a gif of a popular celebrity shaking her head, the words “Hell no” written at the bottom.
She sent back a string of shrugging emojis, the bouncing dots indicating that she was busy typing another reply. It came in a second later, and I laughed again when I read the message.
Brittany: Neither do I, but apparently if you kiss the right person, their tongue isn’t like a dead fish in your mouth.
Tristin: You have to be the right person for
me, then, because I’ve never thought about dead fish while kissing you.
Brittany: Well, that’s awkward. I was actually thinking about nothing else.
Tristin: You could’ve fooled me.
Brittany: Haha. I’m a good actress.
Tristin: No one is that good. Why are we talking about dead fish?
Brittany: A teacher receiving an entire shop’s worth of flowers and a bear in a bikini gets eight-year-olds talking. They asked if the delivery was from my boyfriend, which led to them asking if I kissed you, which then prompted a debate about kissing.
Tristin: Whoever told a kid about kissing and a dead fish in the same sentence has been kissing the wrong people. Just saying.
Brittany: I agree, but in her defense, I think the sister who told him that is about sixteen. Sixteen-year-old boys aren’t exactly known for those skills.
Tristin: Hey! Are you saying I wasn’t a talented kisser at sixteen?
Brittany: Suddenly thinking about limp salmon.
Tristin: At least salmon is the king of fish. I’m taking it as a compliment.
Brittany: As you should. You were the best kisser out of all the sixteen-year-olds I kissed.
Tristin: I was the only sixteen-year-old you kissed. Plus, that was only once. It was much better by the time we started kissing more often. I was a whole year older.
Brittany: So true. Practice makes perfect, and we sure did practice a whole lot.
Tristin: Yeah, but I think we definitely need more practice. We’ve gotten it pretty perfect, but we can always get better.
Brittany: Better than perfect? But fine. I suppose I’m willing to keep practicing if you are.
Tristin: Excellent. We’ll practice constantly this weekend. Speaking of which, you’re coming, right?
The dots bounced for several minutes before her next reply finally came in. Just when I started getting nervous, her message appeared.
Brittany: I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. We’ve only just started seeing each other again, if that’s even what we’re doing. Don’t you think we should wait a while before we start taking trips together?
Tristin: Nope. You already know I’m not a serial killer, and it’s not like I’m a stranger you’ve only been on one date with.
Brittany: Serial killer or stranger aren’t the only reasons not to go away with someone. I want to go. I just don’t want to rush you. You’ve only been back a few weeks. Don’t you need more time to settle in?
Tristin: I do, but I want to settle in with you. We’re not rushing anything. How long have we known each other? If you ask me, we’ve wasted enough time.
Brittany: Do you really feel that way? There’s so much we haven’t talked about.
Tristin: We’ll get there. There’s nothing holding us back, and there’s no clock hanging over our heads. No graduation looming that means we need to make big decisions that might separate us. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.
Brittany: Okay, but the beach? Wouldn’t you rather start with dinner?
Tristin: I plan on feeding you once we’re there. We’ll have dinner. Come on, Brit. You’ll love it there, and you deserve a break.
There was another delay before she answered again.
Brittany: If I say yes, we’ll only be able to go overnight anyway because of school.
Tristin: It’s Memorial Day. You don’t have school on Monday, but we can come back whenever you want.
I took a deep breath, hoping that my gamble was going to pay off. Archer had suggested a few other things during the course of the day, but I didn’t think buying a star and naming it after her was going to work.
Plus, now that he’d put the idea of taking her with me to Wrightsville Beach in my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It would mean getting to spend an extended weekend with her, as well as showing her that I was ready and willing to stand by her side in front of my parents and everyone they knew.
Actions spoke louder than words, and I knew she’d never really believed me when I’d said that I didn’t care that we came from such different backgrounds. My hope was that this would be an action that would prove to her that even with the benefit of age and maturity, I hadn’t changed my mind. She was who I wanted in my life, and I didn’t give a fuck if she didn’t come with a family legacy or a trust fund.
In the past when we’d spoken about it, she’d often asked me how I knew I wouldn’t feel differently in a few years’ time. Now it was more than a few years later, and I felt exactly the same. American Aviation was more than strong enough to stand on its own, and even if it hadn’t been, I still wouldn’t have fucked around with arranged marriages instead of corporate mergers.
We weren’t living in the middle ages. Work was work, and my personal life was my personal life. I would make whatever decisions I thought best in both of those things without one influencing the other. Obviously, I knew sometimes work would interfere in my personal life, and at other times, my personal life would interfere with work.
I wasn’t naïve enough to think I could keep the two completely separate at all times. But I would still forge my own way in both those things, regardless of what Selena’s opinions were about the matter.
When my phone finally buzzed again, a wide grin spread over my face. I fired off my reply instantly, then closed out my messaging app to start making the arrangements.
Brittany: Okay, I’m in.
Tristin: Thank you. I mean it. You won’t regret this, baby. Promise. We’re going to have the best weekend ever.
I almost added in an I love you, but we definitely weren’t there yet. So instead, I said good night and promised to speak to her again tomorrow.
After that, I sat up and fluffed my pillow behind my back as I pulled my laptop closer. Parking it on my legs, I opened it up and set out to make sure everything would be perfect this weekend.
The sun had well and truly set by now, but the downlights in my room were on. I’d already eaten, so I settled in for the night and pulled up a short-term rental website.
It was one Archer had recommended, and as soon as it opened, I saw why. There were pages upon pages of listings, and each house looked better than the next. When I saw a smaller house, right on the beach and not far from my parents’ place, I knew I’d found the right one.
It wasn’t as luxurious or ostentatious as most of the others, but Brittany would love it. The outside was painted light blue with a white roof. Three of the outer walls were solid with only some small windows in them, but the one facing the beach was made entirely out of glass.
The bedroom and living area opened up onto the sand, and from the pictures, it appeared like lying on the bed with the doors open would feel like we were on the beach. Soft white curtains hung in front of the windows, and the glass was tinted for privacy.
Sold.
A few clicks later, I’d booked it. An automated message popped up from the rental agency saying to contact them if I needed them to arrange any extras.
As it happened, I would need a few more things from them. In order for everything to be ready before our arrival, I arranged for freshly cut flowers, a stocked fridge, picnic stuff, a chef to prepare catered meals, and even a bubble bath to be placed in the en suite bathroom.
The whole nine yards.
Once that was done, I browsed through the remaining pages on their website and lingered on the one listing the activities in the area. Making a mental note of what we could do if we wanted, I decided against pre-booking anything. A private harbor cruise was an interesting idea, but I wouldn’t need to charter a boat.
Our place wasn’t far away from the yacht club, and we had a yacht as well as a crew there. If Brittany wanted to go out on the water, I’d organize for our own people to take us. Unless Selena and my father were making use of the yacht for their guests, in which case I’d look into getting another one.
While I’d been in the Air Force, I hadn’t dated much, and I’d never really spent much money. Now, I was going all ou
t to impress her because I didn’t want to lose her again. Even though I knew she didn’t care about the money, I wanted to spend it on her.
If there was even the slightest chance that it could help me win her over, I’d spend every last dime I had. I might not have gone for any of Archer’s completely over-the-top ideas, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t spoil her.
Life was all about balance. I could do this. I could balance being the CEO of a company that was responsible for thousands of livelihoods with a new relationship. Balance spoiling her with staying grounded.
I could do it all.
As long as she gave me the chance to do it.
20
BRITTANY
On Saturday morning, Tristin arrived early to pick me up. We only had a two-hour drive ahead of us, but he’d convinced me to make the most of our time away by getting a head start on the day.
My bags were packed and ready when he got there, pulling up in front of my house in a flashy sports car with doors that opened vertically. Sometimes it was easy to forget who he was and where he came from.
He had his feet planted firmly on the ground—now that he wasn’t a pilot anymore, anyway—and a level head on his shoulders. He also didn’t have anything to compensate for, which I’d always thought of as one of the reasons why he didn’t feel the need to throw his money around like it was nothing.
Every once in a while, though, something would happen that reminded me exactly where he came from. Like with this car. It definitely wasn’t a vehicle just anyone could afford.
But when he climbed out of it dressed in shorts and a faded T-shirt, with flip-flops on his feet and aviators covering his eyes, he just looked like… him. I loved the casual look, but I loved it even more for the fact that it reminded me that, no matter what nice things he could afford, he stayed true to who he was. The rest of it was just… window dressing—it was nice to look at, but it was nothing compared to what was on the inside.
Bad For You Page 13