It Started with a Crush by Piper James

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sage

Principal Walsh caught me checking my school mailbox on Monday morning and asked me to come into his office for a chat. I steeled my spine, anticipating bad news. Maybe the Turners had decided the reward was worth the risk and went to the school board, anyway. Or maybe some of the other parents found out about my secret relationship and were complaining.

“How are you doing?” he asked, settling into his cushy desk chair as I took one of the straight-backed, non-padded seats opposite him.

“I’m good,” I said, the pitch of my voice a little too high. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” he deadpanned, then cocked his head. “Did you know my wife used to teach here?”

“I remember,” I said, my lips lifting slightly.

Mrs. Walsh had been my third grade teacher two decades ago. She’d moved up to teach at the high school before I graduated, and I actually took her economics class when I was a senior. She was a great teacher and a good, kind woman. She really cared and took each student’s successes and failures as her own. I always strove to emulate her, and be to my students what she’d been to me.

“Do you also recall that I taught here at the same time?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, wondering where this was going. “You taught kindergarten, right? But I wasn’t in your class.”

He nodded. “I did. I met my wife on my first day, and she took my breath away. Still does.”

I smiled, still not sure where this was going. I surreptitiously looked at the clock on the wall. I only had ten minutes before the students were let in off the playground, and I needed to get my lesson for the day posted on the whiteboard.

“Sage,” he said, pulling my attention back to him, “when I met Missy, she was a single mother. Her daughter was five, and started kindergarten that year. In my class.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said slowly.

Elizabeth Walsh was a few years older than me, and she went off to the east coast for college as soon as she graduated. She moved to New York after she graduated college and, as far as I knew, was happily married with a few kids.

“So not only was she a parent of one of my students, we were coworkers,” he said, and I suddenly realized there was a point to this story.

“You two dated?” I asked, then immediately shook my head at my own stupidity. “Of course, you did. You were married by the time she was my teacher.”

“Yes,” he said. “I asked her out three days after I met her. She said yes, and the rest is history. But do you know what didn’t happen?”

“What?” I asked.

“No one put up a fuss. The other kindergarten parents were supportive as hell when they found out, some of them even offering to watch Liz once or twice a week so we could go out on real dates. And the students didn’t give two shits that we were a couple.”

My eyes widened at his language—I’d never known him to curse—he shook his head and went on.

“I didn’t lose my job. Missy didn’t lose hers. No one complained. No one respected us any less. Hell, I actually earned more respect, because Missy’s ex was a deadbeat dad who took off the minute he found out she was pregnant, and here I was, new to town and stepping in to fill that void in their lives.”

A spark of excitement bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it. I might’ve been wrong, imagining the worst about the people in Red River and what their reactions would be to finding out I was seeing a student’s parent, but that didn’t change the fact that Chase didn’t want me. He walked out without telling me he was staying in town, permanently. He didn’t put up a fight when I ended things.

He said thanks for the good time.

“The only reason I discourage teacher-parent romantic relationships is because of the possible fallout between the two of them, not because of how it will look to anyone else. Sage, if you care for him, you should stop fighting it. Everything else will fall into place. You’ll see.”

He shooed me out after that, telling me to think about what he said. I walked to my classroom in a daze, his words rolling through my head in a loop. Was he right? Could it really be that easy?

I made it to my desk as the first students started to file in, and I snapped into work-mode, pushing all thoughts of Chase to the back of my mind. I turned to the whiteboard and picked up a dry erase marker. I wrote out the morning’s math problems and spelling words before turning back to my desk.

A piece of folded notebook paper drew my attention. It wasn’t there when I walked in, and a quick glance around the room didn’t reveal who’d left it there. The students were all getting their notebooks and pencils out in preparation for the day’s work.

I picked up the paper and unfolded it, my eyes widening as I read the words printed in neat, yet obviously juvenile handwriting.

Do you love me?

Check yes or no.

Love,

Chase Perry

Underneath the words were two lopsided boxes, one marked “yes” and the other marked “no.” My gaze flew to Daniel, who had his head down as he copied the math problem on the board into his notebook. Despite my racing heart, I dropped the note into my top desk drawer and called the class to attention. I forced myself to focus and do my job without even hinting that anything was off.

At recess, I dismissed the students to go play before calling Daniel’s name. He shuffled toward me, his head down and his feet moving slower than I’d ever seen them move. I pulled the note from my drawer and held it up in front of him once we were alone.

“Daniel, did you write this?” I asked gently.

“Yes, ma’am,” he admitted truthfully, his gaze glued to his shoes.

“Why did you give me this?” I asked, and he met my eyes for the first time since he arrived this morning. “Does your dad know?”

“No,” he said, his brown eyes wide and pleading. “He doesn’t know. I just thought if you loved Dad, he wouldn’t be sad anymore.”

“He’s sad?” I asked, my eyes stinging as I blinked back the threatening tears.

“Yeah,” he said, blowing out a breath. “When I asked him why, he said he had a good friend who didn’t want to be friends anymore. I guessed it was you.”

“You did?” I asked, surprised. I thought we’d done a good job of hiding our relationship from the boy, but I was obviously wrong.

“I told him to apologize, but he said it was complicated,” he answered, nodding. “Why don’t you want to be his girlfriend anymore, Miss Barlow?”

I caught myself before I blurted out lies about my not being Chase’s girlfriend. We might not have put a title on our relationship, but I couldn’t deny it—I’d felt like his girlfriend. And I’d liked the feeling. I’d loved it.

“Like your dad said, it’s complicated,” I said instead, flinching at his annoyed expression.

“I’m not a baby anymore,” he said. “And I’m old enough to know that if you like someone, you should tell them the truth.” He paused for a moment and tilted his head before adding, “Just don’t touch or kiss them without consent.”

“It’s not always that simple,” I said carefully.

“Why not?” Daniel asked. “He loves you and—”

His words cut off abruptly, his face turning a dark shade of red. The breath whooshed from my lungs and the room started to spin as I fought to regain it.

“Shoot,” Daniel said, his adorable little face screwing up into a grimace. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

He looked up at me, but the ability to speak had deserted me along with all the oxygen in my lungs. My eyes were burning again, and I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.

“I’m sorry!” Daniel shouted, his body vibrating with remorse as his face paled. “Please don’t cry, Miss Barlow.”

“It’s okay, Daniel,” I said after finally inhaling. I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m not upset. Just surprised.”

The blood rushed back into his face before he turned his gaze back to the floor. “I heard Dad talking to Uncle Ethan and Uncle Noah. I was supposed to be in bed, but I got up for a drink of water. When I heard them talking about you…I stayed hidden and listened.”

“It’s not good to eavesdrop, Daniel,” I said, somehow keeping my tone light and gentle despite the blood thundering through my veins.

“I know,” he said. “But Dad said—”

“You shouldn’t be telling me about your dad’s private conversation,” I cut in, but he didn’t even pause, all the words spilling out of him in one long sentence.

“—you hurt his feelings when you acted like your friendship wasn’t a big deal, because it was a big deal to him, and Uncle Noah said Dad should tell you he loves you, and he said he didn’t realize he did until it was too late, and now he’s sad, and I thought if you loved him, too, you could tell him and he won’t be sad anymore.”

Holy shit.

That was a lot to unpack, and recess was almost over. I assured Daniel I would think about what he said and sent him out to the playground. I plopped down into my desk chair, my unfocused eyes blurring with a fresh wave of tears.

Chase loves me? Do I love him?

“No,” I whispered into the silence.

I couldn’t, could I? We’d only known each other a short time. I did care about him a great deal, but I had no fucking clue what real love felt like. Or how long it took to fall into it.

I did know one thing, though. I missed him, and he obviously missed me, too. Belle was right—he’d only said those ugly words in reaction to what I’d said. He didn’t tell me he was staying in Red River because I’d acted so flippant and casual while breaking things off with him. I’d hurt his feelings.

Because he loved me.

Fuck. I needed to fix this. I just needed to figure out how.