“Swear on my life. Then I had one of my kids give me a little wrapped bag of Oreos to apologize and they were fucking filled with toothpaste.”
She threw her head back and laughed and I wanted to run my fingers through her long, honey-blonde tresses.
“But in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t as bad as what we did to the principal,” I said.
“I take it you headed up that project?” she asked.
“Yep. We wrapped the principal’s office in wrapping paper.”
“Wait, you did what?”
“Yep. Everything. Her phone. Her chair. Her desk. Her walls. Her files. We individually wrapped the stacks of paper she uses for her personal printer. It was priceless.”
“I bet she was pissed.”
“I’ve never seen a woman laugh so hard in my life,” I said. “Tears were streaming down her cheeks. But instead of unwrapping her office, she just monitored classrooms all day. So, it sort of backfired.”
“Oh, I bet all the teachers loved you for that one,” she said.
“Eh, they all helped in some way, so it wasn’t too bad,” I said, smiling.
“Well, you’re lucky you have kids that like you enough to prank you like that. My students hate me.”
“I’m sure they don’t hate you,” he said.
“They find me lame.”
“You’ve gotta be wrong. You, Kyra? You’re the furthest thing from lame. How do you know they think you’re lame?”
I watched her face grow stoic as she panned her gaze up to me. She rolled her eyes before she snickered and, for a split second, I thought maybe she was pranking me as well. I grinned at her and she started giggling and before I knew it, we were twirling around, laughing with one another.
“They call me ‘Miss Lame-caster’,” she said.
I stopped our twirling and I looked down at her face. She was shaking her head and sighing while I was trying to bury the smirk on my face. Of course, those kids would butcher her last name like that. The poor woman didn’t stand a chance.
I was trying not to laugh but the moment that familiar twinkle rose in her eyes again, I knew she was okay. I cocked an eyebrow at her while she grinned up at me, then the two of us burst out laughing once again.
“I’m so glad you aren’t letting your breakup get you down,” I said between my chuckles. “I had to say, I was a bit worried about you.”
She nodded at my statement, but I did see her face grow a bit more serious.
“You know, if you wanna talk about it, I’m here,” I said.
“I know, and thank you,” she said.
I continued to slowly work my way around the floor with her while she stood on the tops of my feet. I slid my arm tightly around her waist, pulling her closer to me while her eyes danced along my face. For a split second, I thought she was going to open up to me. Her chest filled with air and her beautiful lips parted for just a split second and I readied myself to listen. I allowed all the music and the lights and the people to fade into the background and her perfume to waft over my body while I made myself available to her.
But then Harper stepped back between us again and stole her away.
He danced her around the room as the lights came up. The song picked up tempo and I watched while Kyra’s giggles wafted agains
t my ears. I considered chasing them down and stealing her back. I considered reclaiming my moment with her so we could talk more.
But the happiness on Harper’s face as he twirled her around the floor was unmistakable, so I let them have their moment together.
The truth was, Harper rarely came out of his room. Owen was the strong, silent type but he loved being outside and around other people. He was a listener. A helper. But Harper was a brooder. He kept to himself, never opened up to anyone, and never intermingled with others unless he had to.
He was like Dad in that regard and he seemed to be the only one of us that got that trait.