Fair Lakes Series Box Set - Kaylee Ryan Page 0,12

of trouble looming, and often, by the time I’m made aware, it’s too late. The vomit is flying.

They forget to tell you that part when you’re in college and student teaching.

I meet them at the doorway, anxiously pushing aside the nausea. Pulling a mint from my pocket, I stick it in my mouth before the first student comes down the hallway. “Good morning, Allie,” I say brightly to the cute little brunette.

“Hi, Mrs. Drake,” she replies eagerly.

I wave her inside, ready to greet the rest of the class and ignoring the pang of longing I get every time someone says my name. Mrs. Drake. Technically, it’s Ms. Drake now, but little kids don’t seem to understand the difference, and I’m not really in any position to teach them that variance. Sure, I could have taken my maiden name back, but when the judge asked—and I knew she was going to—I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go back. It was like I was erasing Harrison completely, eradicating every aspect of him from my life. He may not have been there physically, but by keeping his last name, I was able to hang on to a tiny sliver of what we used to be.

The rest of the students make their way down the hallway toward our classroom. Two boys push at each other, knocking into a quiet little redhead with long pigtails. She doesn’t say anything to them—she rarely says anything at all—so it’s my job to make sure the boys understand that horsing around isn’t permitted inside the school and remind them to apologize to little Emily. Her father passed away last year, and the little one hasn’t been the same since. I’ve spent many moments on the phone with her mother or visiting with her in person to assure that we’re doing everything we can to help Emily learn and grow as a person, and hopefully, come out of her shell soon. It’ll take time, and only the child knows the schedule.

“Good morning, Emily,” I say sweetly and quietly as she gets ready to pass through the door.

“Hi.” That’s all I get. That’s all I ever get for a greeting.

Closing my eyes, I get ready for my day. I push aside the looming sickness, the sadness I feel when I think about my ex-husband, and the despair that engulfs me for little Emily. That one right there is what makes my heart race in overtime. It’s part of the reason I pushed Harrison away when I did. We had a plan, and that plan was to transpire by my thirtieth birthday.

Tomorrow.

And it’s a reminder that we failed.

I slip inside my classroom and meet the students at the hooks in the back. I watch as they go through their routine of hanging their jackets and book bags from their designated hooks, place their empty folders in the take-home folder bin, and gather around the brightly colored reading rug. As soon as everyone’s set, I join them, sitting cross-legged in their circle. “Good morning, friends. Are you ready to begin?” I ask, watching as they all nod. “Well, it’s Friday, so we’re going to go around the circle and you can tell your classmates what you’re excited about for this weekend. Allie, you’re the room leader today, so you go first.”

We go around the room, each student eagerly sharing their weekend plans or something they’re looking forward to. When it’s Emily’s turn, she tucks her chin and whispers, “I’m going to my grandma’s house.”

My heart pitter-patters a heavy beat in my chest. Emily’s mom had confided in me that Emily often spends the weekend with her grandma so she could work at a local diner, where she’s a waitress. The weekend shifts bring in more money, which has been scarce ever since her husband passed away. They’ve managed to stay in their family home, as well as seek a few additional services from a counselor for Emily, but I know money is very tight for them.

“That sounds like fun. I’m sure you and your grandma are going to have a wonderful weekend together,” I tell her with a soft smile. She doesn’t return it. “You know, you’re very lucky, Emily. My grandparents passed away either before I was born or when I was very young. The fact that you get to spend time with your grandma is wonderful.” Again, I offer a reassuring, friendly smile to the little girl who has already experienced so much heartache and hurt in her short