Raven
Iarrived at school early, wanting to get a jump start on the day. I smiled at the security guard who let me in. In my classroom, I got busy sorting some puzzles we were going to do on letters. I heard an odd thump and looked up, startled, not seeing anything. Other teachers were arriving, so no doubt, it was someone in another classroom. I finished my task, then got up to start putting the puzzles on the desks when I saw it.
On the outside window glass was a daisy. A simple, innocuous daisy that could have been picked up by the wind and came to rest on the windowsill. But this one was pressed into the glass—almost crushed, the petals broken and torn. A tremor started in my feet, and I shook my head. It was a coincidence. It had to be.
I turned my back and finished my task, sitting back at my desk. I stared at the window. It was just a crushed daisy, I told myself. Carried here by the breeze. Nothing else.
I glanced down at my phone, running my fingers along the keypad. The urge to call Damien and hear his voice, tell him my silly concern, was strong.
“If someone crosses me, they’ll end up pushing up daisies,” Andy had said during one conversation. “I don’t like traitors.”
Something in his tone rang true and real, and his words had stuck with me.
Did he consider me a traitor now?
I glanced at the daisy again, watching as it let go of the glass and slipped off, falling to the ground.
I shook my head. I was overreacting. A flower had hit the glass and fell. It was summer, and there were lots of daisies around. That was all it was.
I heard the sound of the kids arriving, and I stood, slipping my phone back into my drawer. I wasn’t going to bother Damien about a stray flower. I was sure even he would think I was being ridiculous.
I stood and went to greet my little students, firmly putting Andy and the crushed daisy out of my mind.
* * *
I was on edge all day, although nothing else untoward happened. I went to the store and bought everything I needed to make dinner, planning the menu in my head. Damien liked to eat, and he seemed to have a sweet tooth. In the grocery store, I was startled as I went around a corner and saw a man there in a hoodie, but when he turned, I let out a sigh of relief. He was a stranger. So many people wore hoodies now, and I needed to stop seeing Andy everywhere.
As I paid, something caught my eye, and I saw someone in a black hoodie turn the corner outside. The way they hurried away made me anxious, the pit of worry in my stomach growing. I took a cab home, rushing inside. Upstairs, I peered out my windows but saw nothing. I shook my head at my overactive imagination and went to the kitchen to make dinner. I loved to cook, and it always relaxed me. My kitchen was small, but I could still make a nice meal in it, and I got busy chopping and stirring, rolling, and baking.
By the time seven rolled around, the apartment smelled amazing, and I was ready to see Damien. More than ready. When he buzzed up, I let him in and waited in the hallway. The elevator door opened, and he strode toward me, looking concerned, his hands filled with flowers and wine.
“Raven? What’s wrong?”
I flung my arms around his neck, letting him pull me to him. “Nothing,” I assured him. “I was just anxious to see you.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest, and despite the items he carried, he hugged me close, dropping a kiss to my head. “Happy to see you too.”
He pulled back, bending low to kiss me. Every fiber of my body relaxed at his closeness, and every nerve lit up at the feel of his mouth on mine. He kissed me hungrily for a few moments, then eased back with another chuckle.
“If we don’t stop, we’re going to give your neighbors a show.”
“Right.”
We went inside, and he handed me the bunch of flowers and the wine.
“Something smells incredible.”
“You mentioned Chinese. I made my cashew chicken and rice. And I baked some cookies.”
“Sounds amazing. I’m starving.”
He opened the wine and poured us each a glass as I quickly stir-fried some vegetables and set out the chicken and rice. He filled his plate, shutting his eyes at the first bite. “Delicious.”
We talked about simple things. His business, the events he’d been working.
“We do a lot of red carpets for celebrities. Toronto is a hot spot for movies.”
“You don’t like them?”