leather pencil skirt stuck to my legs, I shuffle in heels toward the school office building. “I can’t believe I let you do this to me. I feel ridiculous.”
“You look insane! I’m talking librarian fantasy.”
“What’s a librarian fantasy?”
She winks, her smile increasing.
“Ladies!”
The sound of Will’s voice behind me sets every nerve ending in my body into a state of panic, and I almost don’t turn around.
“Good morning, William,” Carly drawls. “Big day ahead?”
His eyes scale my body like Spider-Man would a wall before he chokes out, “Yes. Very big.”
“Excellent!” She scurries off, and for a second I think she’s being chased by a T-Rex.
“Where is she go—”
“You look different,” Will says, eyeing my skirt.
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
My fingers grip my hip, my voice wavering. “I… I always look like this.”
He raises his hands. “I don’t mean it in a bad way, Elizabeth. I just mean you look different. Still stunning, of course. Just”—he tilts his head—“different.” He bends and picks up his toolbox. “After you.”
Will gestures toward the office building, his arm outstretched, muscles bulging underneath the sleeve of his fluorescent-orange polo shirt. His collar is up, which I’ve always found arrogant, but for some reason on Will, it’s much more endearing.
“Thank you,” I say, dipping my head to his khaki shorts and large tool belt. Did he just say I’m stunning?
My cheeks heat a little, so I make my way to the office and am nearly cleaned up by Sally when she wrenches the heavy glass entrance door open.
“Sorry. Oh! Hey, Lib.” She gives me a quick onceover. “You look… different.”
“That’s what I said.”
Sally blinks at Will while his giant python arm holds open the door for us. She doesn’t speak at first, but then garbled words eventually leave her mouth.
“It’s you!” She points at him. “Delicious. Caveman. How? I’m confused.”
“You’re confused?” he prompts, chuckling.
I put her out of her misery, although she doesn’t seem miserable at all, her eyes twinkling like fairy lights.
“He’s the plumber contracted to fix the pipes, Sal.”
“You fix pipes?”
He smiles. “I do.”
“I have pipes,” she blurts.
Will nods and smirks at me, then says to Sal, “In or out?”
Her eyes widen and she stutters, as if she doesn’t know how to answer. “B-Both?”
“Both?”
“Well, yeah.” She lets out an awkward laugh. “In and out.”
I’m confused, and by the looks of Will’s furrowed forehead, he is too.
“How can you be going in and out?”
Sally’s face flushes pink. “Ohhh.” She shakes her head and blurts, “I thought we were talking about sex.” Morphing from a shade of pink to fire-engine red, she also blurts, “Out. I’m going out. Thank you. Goodbye.”
She hurries toward her car, and I bite my lip to refrain from laughing.
“School teachers are not like they were when I was young,” Will says.
“Yeah?” I giggle as we enter the reception area, unable to hold it in any longer. “How so?”
“They didn’t talk about sex.” He lowers his voice, his warm breath caressing my ear. “And they certainly weren’t as hot as you are.”
My heel gives way and I fall sideways, landing in his arms.
“Easy there, sweetheart.”
Pythons or not, his arms are warm and strong, safe and lifesaving, because I most certainly would’ve fallen flat on my face had he not caught me. Damn heels!
“Th-Thank you.” My eyes meet his stormy grey ones before he helps me upright.
“No probs.”
“Right.” Smoothing down Carly’s ridiculous skirt, I make eye contact again for the shortest of seconds, his eyes now brighter, more amused. “I’ll see you around.”
“You will.”
I nod. “I will.”
“No.” He pats his chest. “I Will.”
“Huh?”
Carly cracks up laughing from behind the reception counter.
I look between the two of them. “I don’t get it.”
“Me Tarzan, you Jane,” she says.
Will gives her the thumbs-up.
Shaking my head at them as I push through the door that leads to my classroom, I cringe as Oliver falls into step beside me.
“See?” he says, gesturing to Carly and Will. “Same cloth.”
Despite adjusting my skirt and being incredibly uncomfortable and frustrated for a good part of the morning, every time I catch my reflection in the window, I decide I kinda like what I see. Yeah, I look “different,” but it’s a good different, an empowering different, and something I might wear again sometime.
Just not at school.
And definitely not on a sport day.
“Rightyo, Grade 2s and 3s,” Oliver announces, “please put the dodgeballs back into the bags and line up with your partner. The bell is about to ring for lunch.”
I hold out the large net bag as child after child pops a