Ever After Drake (2 page)

I only obsessively clean when I’m
nervous or stressed. And right now I am both.

I give the two girls who just walked
in a smile as I walk past them to that nuisance of a crumb. I grab
it and turn to head back to the front of the classroom.

And nearly walk right into
someone.

“
Hey,” he says with a
cocky smile. He’s tall, well over six feet, so he towers over me.
Then again, so does pretty much everyone else. “I don’t remember
you from last year. You must be new.”

“
Uh, yeah,” I stutter as I
awkwardly try to get around the big student who has to be a
football player with his lumbering size and cocky attitude that
just rolls off of him.

“
If you’re feeling a bit
lost, I’d be happy to show you around the school sometime,” he
says, staying put at the back of the classroom as I dump the
offending piece of what I suspect is ceiling tile in the trash. I
step out of the way as a flood of a dozen or so students spill into
the room.

“
I, uh, I think I’m okay.
Thanks,” I say, once again feeling beyond awkward.

He gives me a wink as he settles into
one of the seats.

Everyone else shifts to one desk or
another and I swallow hard.

The tardy bell sounds and for some
reason I expect all eyes to automatically turn to me. But they
don’t. Everyone just talks to each other, quietly but
excitedly.

I cross to the desk and grab the
attendance list. I lean back on the front of my desk. No one in the
class is really paying much attention to me.

Then a horrifying realization hits
me.

None of them realize I am the
teacher.

And that cocky kid
was
flirting
with
me.

I have to resist the urge to let my
mouth form into an O and keep away the look of disgust from my
face.

“
Okay!” I say a little
more loudly than I need to. One nervous looking girl in the front
row actually jumps. “Welcome to Ancient World History. My name is
Miss Ray and I hope you’re all excited to learn about some dead
Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans.”

Half the class is looking at me like
they don’t quite believe that I am the authority figure in this
room. But that boy at the back of the class has a look of slight
horrification.

It doesn’t last long. When I meet his
eyes, it slowly curls into a smug smile.

“
Let’s do attendance,
shall we?” I say and don’t wait a second before I start reading off
names.

Half way down the list I read, “Lake
McCain?”

“
Here,” the smug smile
crosses his face when I look up at the kid who had just been
hitting on me. “And my offer to show you around the school still
stands.”

The entire room bursts into
laughter.

And I’m too humiliated to come back
with anything.

First and second period I teach
Ancient World History. Third period will be my break period. Then
there’s lunch. Fourth period I will teach the freshmen World
History class. That’s A days. B days consist of first period World
History, second period Historical Literature, third break, lunch,
and fourth period once again World History.

I’m lucky to get such a full-time
schedule my first year. Especially since there is another history
teacher here at Woodinville high school.

First and second period go as
expected. I sound like a nervous, blubbering fool for the rest of
first period while we go over the boring class starter stuff and
hand out textbooks. Second period was exactly the same, thankfully
without the humiliation of a student thinking I was another student
and flirting with me.

When third period rolls around, I
close and lock my classroom door and sink to the floor behind my
desk.

I always had a plan growing up. I’d
become a teacher because it was the perfect job until step two
came. Meet someone amazing, get married, and think about having a
family.

So I stuck to that plan. I made my way
through college, did my student teaching, graduated, got a few
interviews, and took the first position that was offered to
me.

But when Alan came into the picture, I
started making plans for step two. He was cute and oftentimes
charming. We’d see movies and we’d go out to dinner.

And then I wake up this morning to
find that text from him.

What kind of jerk breaks up with a
girl through a text?

I grab my phone from my desk, ready
for the torture of scrolling through our old texts, looking for any
signs of the bomb he’d dropped on me this morning.

Always saving my life, I find a text
from Armando instead.

Armando:
How’s the first day going?

With a little time, it’ll be a bit
easier to find the humor in this morning’s situation.

Kaylee:
Some senior hit on me.

Armando:
Was he cute?

Kaylee:
Gross.

Armando:
Sorry. You know I can’t help it.

Kaylee:
Gross again.
I chuckle
as I type.
You know he’s probably still
seventeen, even if he is a senior.

Armando:
Agreed, gross. Bad Armando.

Kaylee:
You’ll be forgiven if you take me out for Chinese
tonight.

Armando:
Pick you up at six-thirty?

Kaylee:
Don’t be late.

A knock cuts through the dark silence
and I nearly jump two feet off the ground.

There’s the sound keys jingling and I
scramble to get to my feet.

The door opens and someone steps
inside just a half second before I pop up behind my
desk.

“
Uh, hi,” a man says. His
eyes are wide and it’s obvious I scared him, and this is
automatically weird. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure if you were around
and I really needed to grab a book from that cupboard.” He points
somewhere toward the back of the classroom.

“
H…hi,” I stutter
awkwardly as I take him in.

He’s young looking, but not nearly
young enough to be mistaken for a student. His soft brown hair is
short and spiky. He’s wearing a tighter fitting pair of black
jeans, Chucks, a grey button up shirt rolled to his elbows, and a
black vest. The barest hints of facial hair hug a chiseled chin
that betrays his slightly boyish face.

“
I’m, uh, Drake,” he says
awkwardly, and I realize that I’m just standing here in the dark,
staring at him. “You must be the new history teacher?”

“
Yes!” I suddenly say, far
too loud and startled sounding. “Yes, I’m Kaylee Ray.” I step from
behind the desk and cross the room toward him. He takes three steps
toward me, and the door swings closed behind him.

He holds out his hand and I shake it.
I’m proud that my hands aren’t shaking.

“
Nice to meet you,” he
says with a lopsided smile that is completely adorable. “I’m, uh,
the other history teacher. I teach US and AP. This was my classroom
last year.”

“
Oh,” I say, my eyes
widening a bit. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got a box of your stuff, I think.”
I start to turn away from him, but my eyes stay locked on
him.

He gives a chuckle and his eyes drop
away from me for a moment. He looks embarrassed.

I am totally staring and checking him
out.

My face feels hot when I tear my eyes
away and actually look where I am going. I want to gouge my own
eyes out I feel so stupid.

I open the far back cabinet and pull
out a box. When I cleaned out my room a few weeks back I found a
handful of random books.

“
Here you are,” I say as I
hand them over. He takes the box and puts it under one
arm.

“
Thanks,” he says, that
lopsided smile crossing his lips again. “How…how’s your first day
gone?”

I shake my head and back up two steps
so I am leaning against the whiteboard. “It’s, uh…been a bit of a
disaster?” I’m too embarrassed to form it as a statement. A
question is less humiliating.

“
That bad, huh?” he says
with a chuckle. He sets the box at his feet and leans against the
wall with one shoulder.

I groan, my eyes rising to the
ceiling. “I got dumped first thing this morning.”

“
Ouch,” he says, sucking
in air. “That’s a rough way to start the day.”

“
Yeah,” I say. “And then
one of my students thought
I
was a student and totally flirted with
me.”

“
Ouch again,” he says,
chuckling. I can’t help it when an embarrassed smile breaks out on
my face. “Did you get a name? Maybe it was a former student of
mine.”

“
It was kind of a weird
one,” I say, struggling to remember. “Lake? Lake McCain I
think.”

A chuckle bubbles up out of Drake,
which escalates into a full-bellied laugh that goes on for a good
twenty seconds. He actually wipes at the corner of his eye while I
give him a quizzical look.

“
Lake…” he says, trying to
get his laughter under control. “Lake is my little brother. My last
name is McCain.”

“
What?” I cry, the
humiliation doubling. “Oh my gosh…” I cover my face with my hands.
“Your brother?”

“
Lake can be a little
assertive,” he says and I can hear the smile that is still on his
face. “But he’s an idiot for assuming you’re a student.”

I uncover my face just a little bit to
look at him, and see a warm expression on his face. There’s the
hint of a smile, and his eyes are soft and open.

Is Drake McCain flirting with
me?

Instantly my eyes dart to the ring
finger of this left hand. Completely devoid of any kind of
band.

“
So, you teach at the same
school your brother goes to,” I say, moving on when I’m not sure
how to react to his statement or my intense interest in his
relationship status. I’m also trying to redirect the conversation
from my humiliation to
anything
else. “Does that mean you were once a student
here yourself?”

“
Unfortunately,” he says.
He slides down the wall and keeps one knee bent up, the other
stretching out in front of him. I sink down onto the floor as well.
“I graduated from here eight years ago. Went to school at UW and
then low and behold, my old stomping grounds are looking for a new
history teacher. This will be my third year teaching
here.”

“
That’s got to be
terrible,” I say as a chuckle bursts from my lips. I do the math,
trying to figure out how old he is. Twenty-five? Twenty-six? “It’s
bad enough deciding to live through high school every day for the
rest of your life, but having to do it at your actual high
school?”

“
I know, right?” he says
as he wrinkles his nose and gives a pained looking smile. “I got
reamed by Mr. Kezwick once in this very room for not writing a
paper on time.”

“
This room?” I
say.

“
Um hum,” he replies with
a nod. “It was truly horrific. He still gives me dirty looks every
chance he gets.”

“
That’s awful.” There’s a
ridiculous smile on my face.

“
What about you?” he says,
his eyes meeting mine in the dim light. “Where’d you graduate
from?”

“
I went to La Connor
High,” I say. “Home of the Braves. Then I moved on to Western for
college.”

“
Nice,” Drake says with a
nod of his head. Just then the bell rings for lunch. “You wanna
come eat in the teacher’s lounge with me? I can show you
around.”

I give him a side look, the strangest
feeling of butterflies in my stomach kicking up. A feeling that
I’ve felt so many other times before.

“
Thanks,” I say. “But I
think I’m going to hide in this dark room for a little while longer
and try to prepare myself to not bomb so hard again for last
period.”

He nods his head with a smile. “Okay,”
he says. “Maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

He climbs to his feet and
holds a hand out to me. I hesitate. There’s something intimate and
personal about touch. And suddenly, I realize I haven’t thought or
cared about Alan this entire conversation. This morning I was
heartbroken over
that
text
, and now, just a few hours later,
this very attractive predecessor of mine seems to be flirting with
me. And I kind of like it.

I take his hand and he pulls me to my
feet.

“
I hope your last class
goes better for you,” he says as he bends over and picks up his
box. “Don’t let them take advantage of you. They can smell
fear.”

“
I’ll try to be brave,” I
say with a smile when he hesitates in the door.

“
See you around,
Kaylee.”

CHAPTER
TWO

“
I thought only nerds hung
out in the library during their free time.”