The Reality of Everything - Rebecca Yarros Page 0,144

someone who loves you. And he tells you every day, and you can’t accept him because you’re scared. Scared that you don’t have a whole heart to give him. Scared that you won’t be able to love him in the way he deserves. And he challenges you, and he pulls you out of your comfort zone, and the chemistry between you is obvious to anyone with eyes, and when your chance for happiness is staring you in the face, you push it away and blame the timing. You push him away because if you let yourself love him, and he dies, you won’t survive burying him. You know because you’ve done it before. You’ve buried the love of your life, and you’ll be damned if you’ll risk that kind of pain again.” She stared at me, daring me not to connect the dots.

“Oh God,” I cried, crumpling in on myself as the pain of my own ignorance cut me to the core.

I’d worked so hard to protect myself from feeling another loss like Will’s that I’d become just like him, but instead of my heart being on the line—it was Jackson’s.

…

My first day of school, there were two dozen roses on my desk from Jackson. The note was simple:

Today it begins. And yes, I’m singing “Hot for Teacher” all day long. X Jackson

I scoffed, then laughed. The man never outright called, but he made his presence known in every way. He was tenacious. I’d give him that.

Next to those glorious roses sat a small vase containing a single gerbera daisy. He didn’t have to tell me what to do with it.

While my students had to wait outside for the bell to signal the beginning of the day, the kindergarten kids were allowed in fifteen minutes earlier, and we were in that window. I took the flower down the hall, smiling at the other teachers and adjusting my lanyard so they could see I was one of them.

I still wasn’t sure who the hell decided I was mature enough to be a teacher, but I’d fake it until I made it.

The kindergarten rooms were at the opposite end of the wing, and the noise was astonishing. I opened the door on the left and was met with a barrage of nervous parents and excited children, all scrambling to put away their supplies and find their backpack hooks.

The redhead I was looking for spotted me over the heads of her classmates.

“Morgan!” She parted the seas like the social butterfly she was and flew into my arms. I dropped down to her eye level, careful to keep my skirt from riding up.

“You look amazing!” I held my finger out, and she obligingly twirled in her fluffy skirt and sequin-covered shirt. Her hair lay in perfectly formed ringlets that I knew wouldn’t last past the first recess.

“Mommy did my hair.” She grinned.

“You did a great job.” I smiled up at Claire, who looked as uncomfortable as humanly possible, but she was here. She might be living in Jackson’s house and sleeping in his bed, but she was doing it for the good of Finley. They weren’t together…at least that’s what I reminded myself to keep my claws sheathed.

Besides, Jackson and I weren’t together, so she had every right to sleep in his bed.

Right.

“Thanks.” She offered me a tight smile. Things weren’t exactly easy between us, but I appreciated that she’d at least turned off her seek-and-destroy glare when it came to me.

“Finley, your daddy sent this for you.” I handed Fin the daisy, and her entire face lit up.

“It’s beautiful.” She drew out the word with reverence. “He FaceTimed this morning. He told Mommy I could wear my skirt!”

“Against my better judgment,” Claire muttered, sending an obvious glance around the much less ostentatious outfits in the room.

“I’m putting it on my desk!” Finley carried the flower like it was a nuclear bomb, dodging her classmates every step of the way.

“Did you know you’re supposed to volunteer?” Claire asked in a hushed whisper as I rose to my feet. “And not just every once in a while. They want classroom aides, and story-time readers, field-trip chaperones, and I work. There are a thousand sign-up sheets over there!”

“It can be a lot, but school resources aren’t always what we’d wish, so having parents step in can really help stretch our budget,” I explained with a small smile. “But you don’t have to. That’s the whole point of being a volunteer, and I know you’re taking on