Matt & Zoe - Charles Sheehan-Miles Page 0,12

my head. “No one. That’s why the Army sent me home so quickly. When the county couldn't find the next of kin, they sent Jasmine to an emergency shelter for abused kids until I could get home.”

He winces and begins scribbling on a loose piece of yellow construction paper. “All right. Here’s my number and email address. Call or text any time. I’ll do whatever I can. Are you all sorted for the school bus and everything else? This must be all new for you.”

I close my eyes. Despite myself, I feel relief. “I was planning to drive her to school.”

“I want to take the bus!” Jasmine says, an edge to her voice.

My eyes pop open. She has an annoyed expression on her face, and one of her feet is set slightly in front of the other and turned out to the side. I feel a laugh start to burble up, because I do the same thing when I’m annoyed.

“You sure, Jasmine? It’s up to you. If you want to take the school bus, you can.”

“I did last year,” she says.

“Okay. Bus it is.”

I stand, and so does Mister P.

“Thanks,” I say.

He nods toward Jasmine. “I’m happy to do anything I can to help.”

Let’s get to business (Matt)

At one in the afternoon, Tyler shows up at my door.

He chuckles as he walks in. “Man, you got screwed with this move. Look at that.” He’s referring to my window-wall of brick.

Perversely, I want to argue with him. “It’s fine,” I say.

He laughs and coughs out a garbled version of the word bullshit. “You got stuck with this room because you’re representing the union. I guarantee it.”

I shake my head. “It was the only third grade room open.”

He smirks. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Is Peggy meeting us there?”

He nods. “If she’s still alive.”

I shake my head. Peggy Young is the head of the English Department at the high school, my high school counterpart with the South Hadley Education Association. In truth, the high school teachers have more to lose than we do if the contract negotiations fail. The school committee wants to eliminate extra pay for coaches and phase out department heads in favor of curriculum coordinators who will do the job of a department head but with no extra pay. That, along with increases to the cost of our health insurance and a freeze on pay raises for another year have pitted the teachers union against the school board.

Tyler and I step out of the room and I close and lock the door, then we head for the parking lot. Of course I have to get a ride. My car insurance doesn’t cover rentals, which may be the dumbest decision I’ve made lately.

I get in the passenger seat of Tyler’s Hummer. I can’t imagine how he affords to drive it, unless it’s fueled by surplus testosterone. He drives us out of the parking lot, crushing lesser vehicles under his wheels—well, that’s not true—as he turns out of the school and toward Newton Street. I find myself thinking back to this morning’s meeting with Zoe and Jasmine Welch. Zoe is nothing like I assumed when we had the accident. My first assessment was irresponsible college student. I couldn’t have been more wrong—she was stepping into the role of mother after her parents were killed. Which makes me … a jerk.

I’m pretty sure it is too late to erase that first impression. But at least we’re on board and in agreement on how to best help Jasmine.

Still… it’s hard to set aside the sad look in her blue eyes. She’s a damned attractive woman, with exquisite features. And clearly overwhelmed with grief and the weight of her new responsibilities.

I try to imagine how I would have felt at twenty-four? How would I have felt if my parents had been killed and I’d suddenly been the sole guardian of an eight-year-old sibling? When I lost my father, I had no one to worry about but myself, and even that was more than I could handle. I find myself feeling admiration for how well she’s holding up.

Tyler comes to a stop at the light at Newton Street. It’s the main thoroughfare through South Hadley, running from the bridge to Mount Holyoke College, where the name is changed to College Street. Tyler turns on his left turn signal and taps the steering wheel. I glance over to my right and my eyes fix on Zoe Welch.

She’s a hundred yards away, on the other side of College