Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
She whimpered and then turned her head to look at Dawson, who was crouched down beside me.
“Hi there.”
“Hi,” she replied, then offered him her hand as she’d been taught. “I’m Miss Camille Joseph, but you can call me Cami.”
“It’s my pleasure, Cami,” he said, taking her hand in both of his and giving her his flashing smile. “I’m Dawson West, but you can call me Daw.”
She nodded. “Are you a friend of my uncle Chris?”
“I am. I’m his best friend, and you’ll be seeing a lot of me because I will be playing music at the club for the foreseeable future.”
“Okay,” she said, processing his words. “I like your hat.”
“I like your antlers.”
Her slow smile, as her eyes were still wet with tears, was good to see.
I glanced at Nicole as Mrs. Guidry, their teacher, crouched down beside me and released a long, tired sigh.
“At least it’s the last day,” I offered cheerfully.
“The thing is, it wasn’t just Prue and Cami in the bathroom. There were two second graders and one sixth grader, who,” Mrs. Guidry leaned in and whispered in my ear, “was very impressed with Cami’s throw.”
“That’s great,” I groaned.
She shrugged. “There was also Vanessa,” she said, pointing across the room, where Prue was standing next to a girl with a pink-and-gold Santa hat on. “And Katie, and Charlotte. I had them all write down what they saw, and as I informed Mrs. Amsel, my understanding from the girls is that this bullying has been going on since the beginning of the school year.”
“I have no idea why she didn’t tell me,” Nicole said, sounding sad and exhausted.
I gave Cami a final squeeze, then sent her back to her friends.
“This could be as simple as her not wanting to disappoint you. Maybe she was scared, and if that’s it, then she can take karate with Cami.” I suggested, standing up.
Nicole’s eyes suddenly filled.
“I used to be a grabber and a hugger,” I told her, “but now I ask first.”
She nodded quickly, so I stepped in close and wrapped her in my arms. “It’s gonna be all right.”
When she stepped back after several moments, Mrs. Guidry was right there with the box of tissues.
“Whatever this is about, she’s on break now, so you have time to figure it out. And if you need her to see a therapist, Cami has a great one in Dr. Belinda Khan. Because sometimes even the most well-adjusted kids have questions.”
“What does Cami struggle with?”
“An absent father, and so all of us, especially the men in her life, let her know all the time how smart and funny and loved she is.”
“Not pretty?” she teased me.
“Pretty is way down the list. Her mother likes smart and funny better.”
“She sounds perfect.”
“She has a full-time job and a kid. She’s doing the very best she can, and she has help.”
Nicole blew her nose as a man breezed into the room. He was tall, dark, and very handsome in his suit and tie. Plus, I had a soft spot for men with glasses.
“What happened to all of you?” he asked, looking at her, then me, then Mrs. Guidry, and finally back to her. “I was only gone for five minutes putting stuff in the car.”
Apparently, he was playing the role of sherpa himself.
“Okay, maybe longer than five minutes,” he amended, smiling at me, “but that is a schlep and a half from here to the parking lot.”
Still sniffling, Nicole said, “This is Mr. Gardner, Cami’s uncle, and he was just telling me that Cami sees a therapist, so if we wanted one for Prue, we could get a number from him.”
His smile heated, and I liked what it did to his hazel eyes. He and his wife made a stunning pair. “You’re not wearing your cape today? Is it at the cleaners?”
“That’s right,” I said seriously. “We had some rain, you know.”
It was just banter, but apparently that didn’t matter to Dawson, who stepped into me, putting his hand on the small of my back, which Mr. Amsel couldn’t see, but just him being that close spoke of possessiveness. And really, there weren’t that many places that his hand could be.
The fact that in the middle of a first-grade classroom, Dawson had to stake his claim was ridiculous, but also remembered. He had always been very upfront about people knowing we were together.
Of course, as soon as Mr. Amsel’s attention moved from me to Dawson, his eyes did that thing that everyone’s did and went big and round and he had his hand out instantly.
“Dawson West,” he said, clearly starstruck. “Huge, huge fan.”
“Thank you,” he said tightly, not nearly the same warmth in his voice as there had been with Nicole.
“Me too,” Mrs. Guidry chimed in, taking Dawson’s hand next. “Big fan. I have a concert T-shirt you signed for me when I saw you in London.”