Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Like I needed a reminder that he was perfectly lean and toned.
“You’ve got plenty.” I kept my tone curt. “Try again, and this time, I’m gonna help you.”
“I don’t need a lesson!”
“Well, you’re getting one,” I said grimly. However, I’d majorly underestimated the effect of putting my hands on Nolan to help him float and having our bodies so close together. I gave surfing lessons almost every weekend to supplement my teaching salary, and I’d never had the problem of being so aware of the other person. Like most of my surfing students, Nolan smelled like coconut and sunscreen, but something else there teased my senses. His scent, combined with his earnest half-smile as he tried to comply with my suggestions, was enough to have me thawing toward him.
And the last thing we needed was me warming up to him in any way. He was like the ghost of Christmas present, no future in sight, and keeping my heart and awareness in an icy deep freeze was only sensible. But I kept noticing little things. The birthmark on his neck. The definition of his Adam’s apple. The warmth of his damp skin.
“I’m doing it.” Nolan celebrated with a cheer as he finally managed a respectable float to complement his very rudimentary doggie paddle. “I’m really doing it. Look at me swimming.”
Somehow, I couldn’t help but get excited for him. “Yeah, you’re doing awesome.”
I went in for a high-five as he righted himself to standing in the water again, but my fingers lingered with absolutely no permission from my brain, skimming down his arm.
“Merry.” Nolan exhaled hard. “What are you doing?”
I leaned in, that same force pulling me closer despite my better judgment. Maybe one little—
“How’s the holiday planning coming?” Athena burst out of the house, phone camera pointed at us. “I need an update for my channel.”
“No update.” I backed away from Nolan in a hurry. No big deal. So we’d almost kissed. So what? It wouldn’t happen again. I’d make sure of it.
Five
What joyful noises are coming from our music classroom as Mr. Bell continues to fill in for Mrs. Crenshaw. Students are hard at work on holiday surprises in many classes right now, so look for those to head home in December. As a reminder, there are several ongoing fundraisers for various projects, so see the list and give as you are able!
NOLAN
My last class of the day on Thursday was proving as temperamental as a certain EGOT-winning diva I’d had the horror of working with a few years back. Despite minimal feedback from Merry, I was moving along with my prep work and musical selections for the holiday festival.
“Are you really going to let us sing this song in public?” Kaitlyn was a member of the eighth grade choir with short hair and a pinched face that made her look closer to a forty-something sales manager. She had managed to find a way to object to something in every class we’d had thus far. “It has a bad word.”
“Literature and music are filled with bad words.” I waved a hand. I’d wanted to use more modern music with a secular but upbeat holiday feel, which meant certain lyrical compromises had to be made. “As you’ll note, I marked the curse word out.”
“I still know what word it says.” Liam K., one of three Liams in the class, was always helpful.
“From the top,” I directed, deliberately talking over Liam.
“My parents might complain.” Kaitlyn had to get one last dig in.
“Are they the ones singing?” I snapped, then immediately regretted it. I could sense the warning email from Principal Alana already, so I took a breath. “Let’s try to find the beauty in the song instead of analyzing individual word choices.”
The students began to sing, but then a rogue squawky low note threw everyone off.
“And let’s try that once more.” My gaze landed on the source of the off-note, a gangly boy with a halo of curly hair that added at least four inches in height. “Jaden, I thought we marked you as an alto?”
“That was the other day.” Jaden, like all three Liams, had a raspy, squeaky voice in a constant state of flux. Gotta love hormones.
“Very well, we’ll roll with it.” I pointed to the way-smaller baritone section. “Try singing the low part today.”
The entire group managed to make it through the song, but it felt flat. The vibes were very last period in a long day, and I sympathized, but we had only a few precious weeks until the performance.
“And emote, sopranos, emote.” I fluttered around, trying to demonstrate the required energy.
At last, the final bell rang, and students raced out of our windowless cave into the hall, leaving me to pick up discarded sheet music, gum wrappers, and other trash.
“Hey there.” Merry stood at the entrance to my classroom. “I figured we needed to talk.”