I lifted my head toward the door at the sound of my friend’s voice.
Millie was an art and drama teacher at the school and looked every inch the part. Today, she wore dark-blue bell bottoms with an orange-and-brown bohemian top. A rag tie lifted her exotic auburn hair off her neck while the loose curls cascaded down her back. She was like an eccentric Disney princess. In sharp contrast to her exotic spice, I was vanilla. I had medium-length dark brown hair, my closet was a concise mixture of three colors—black, white, and gray—and I had exactly two hairstyles: straight down or some form of a ponytail. Millie was just quirky enough to set her apart from the other staff at Stanton High, and the students loved her for it.
“You coming?”
“Where?”
“The auditorium. Right now. Staff meeting.” Millie's hands flailed about with each clipped phrase. She was animated and dramatic to a fault. She also had a laugh that could be heard down the entire senior hallway. Basically, she was everything I was not.
I glanced at the time on my computer screen and rolled backward in my chair, banging my knee on the bottom of my desk in the process. I sucked in a breath and waited for the pain to abate only to discover that the desk had ripped a gash in my tights right across my knee. I resisted the urge to snarl at my leg or the cute gray A-line, high-waisted skirt I’d donned in celebration of this being the last day before Christmas break. Though I wasn’t remotely excited about the week ahead of me, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to a break from school.
“It’s so nice of them to not make us go home yet,” I said as I stood and began walking toward the door. Millie’s eyes widened at my leg, but she kindly let it go. “Being gone for two weeks seems like torture right now.”
“I know. I just spent the last hour cleaning paint off all the desks, so yeah, I’m with you. Christmas break sounds terrible.”
“Do you know why it’s in the auditorium?” I asked, closing my door behind me.
Millie and I fell into step beside each other down the hallway. Out of a habit of self-preservation, I glanced at the classroom across from mine. Miles’s door was closed, and the lights were off.
“Maybe Harris arranged a musical number for us?”
I smiled at that. Our shy and stoic principal was generally well-liked among the small staff at Stanton, but a musical number was definitely not his style. (Thank goodness.)
“Or maybe they’re getting us presents this year, and they’re so big they need the stage to pass them all out,” I suggested, smoothing my skirt as we walked.
“I’m sure that’s it. So, who’s excited to spend a week at a beautiful lodge in Vermont with her mom and her new husband?” Millie’s over-exaggerated voice couldn’t help but make me laugh, even though very little about my upcoming trip felt humorous.
I made a face at her. “I guess that’s me—unless I get a better offer from my best friend to be the fifth wheel at her family’s holiday celebrations.”
Her face dropped. “You know you’d always be welcome with us. You’re like a second mom to my kids, but I think you need to be with your family this Christmas.”
“I just feel like avoiding my problems has served me really well these past few months. I’d hate to ruin that now.”
“This will be good for you,” Millie insisted as we reached the end of the hallway and turned right, leading us to yet another hallway. “I promise. You can’t avoid your mom and Russ forever.”
“I could sure give it my best effort.” We walked a few moments in silence before I added, “But thanks again for telling me about the lodge. Even with my bad attitude, I know it will be better than going home.”
She nudged my arm. “You’re welcome. It comes highly recommended. I think it will be perfect for your family this year. Like a fresh start. Nobody has to step on anybody’s toes or worry about blending traditions. Is your sister’s family coming?”
“Yes, thank goodness.”
The thought of spending time in my childhood home with another man in my dad’s place had been more than my heart could take. When I explained that to Millie, she suggested a Christmas lodge in Vermont that she’d heard about from a friend. It seemed the perfect solution. There were separate cabins and plenty of holiday activities to distract us all. I was a little surprised my mom had agreed to the change, though. We were staunch traditionalists when it came to Christmas, but then again, that was before my dad passed away. For whatever reason, she seemed excited about Vermont, and I wasn’t going to argue. Having my sister and her family there would be my other saving grace. Anytime I wasn’t locked away in my own cabin, reading, I could play the doting aunt card, which would get me out of any unwanted family time—or at least keep me appropriately visible at gatherings but unable to converse much. The plan was perfect.
When we entered the auditorium, my eyes scanned the room. The faculty had spread out among the first six rows closest to the stage. We began to make our way down the aisle but were stopped by Pamela, the school secretary. Pamela had the heart and demeanor of someone meant for bigger things than a high school secretary. With her loud voice and excitable nature, I could easily see her being some sort of radio announcer or one of those women who MC a beauty pageant. She was originally from Texas, and her accent was her trademark, which meant she worked hard to keep it thick, even after ten years of living in the north. Her hair was as big as her heart, and both were bursting at the seams.
“Hey ya’ll. We’ll announce what’s going on in a minute. For now, grab a cupcake, and then go sit with your department, okay?” She cheerfully motioned us forward and went to greet the teachers following behind us.
My stomach dropped. It might have been fine if my department included even one other person to serve as a buffer between me and Miles, but it was just the two of us.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered to Millie, anxiously scanning the aisles. After the email incident from a month ago, Miles had been insufferable. He made himself very available at all times for a snide comment, a teasing reminder of my mistakes, and just…flaunting his…whatever.
“It must really be hard to be single and have to sit with the hottest attraction this school has ever known.”
“Don’t even start. He never lets me forget that.”
She laughed, unrepentant as always.
“And it really doesn’t say much for our school if he’s the best we’ve got,” I hissed. Not that it was important, but for the record, I used to be the hottest attraction. Me. And not all that long ago. I didn’t mean that in a conceited way, but I was once the young, cool teacher who everybody planned their class schedule around. Me. And now, because I drew the line at turning my classroom into a donut-eating, Harry Potter-reading, student-stealing circus, I was a forgotten old has-been—at the ripe old age of twenty-five.