Page 79 of The Path to Loving Him
This is weird.
Really weird.
I always thought I’d be a good teacher, but having the students love me right off the bat? Now that’s new.
The first few days were a bit of an adjustment, especially with the schedule and figuring out exactly what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. Not to mention, how I set up my classroom, but after being in it for a couple of days, I realized I didn’t like how I set it up, so I spent all night after school rearranging again.
But I think I have it the way I want it now.
Now it’s time to make friends, especially since the one person I know won’t even look at me.
For the past three days, Ryland has avoided me. I’ve received one email from him: a list of tasks he expects me to complete thisweek for the baseball team. Since I have no idea where all these things are, nor do I have access to the facilities, there is a slight problem with me completing them. And since it’s Thursday and he’s refused to talk to me like a petulant child, I will have to take matters into my own hands.
I have a plan.
One that I know will piss him off.
But listen, we need to get on the same page because we start sixth-period baseball next week.
What is that precisely? Well, for all the athletes on varsity, their sixth period is their sport. Instead of having PE, they go straight to their team facilities for their workouts. My assumption is that this is when the team will weightlift and condition. At least that’s what I remember when Bennett went here.
Either way, I need to figure this all out and find a way to be more prepared than Ryland.
With my water bottle in hand, I head to the teachers’ lounge, where I plan on making some friends. Always a scary task as an adult, but if Ryland doesn’t want to be friends and work harmoniously together, then I can make friends on my own.
I push through the door and immediately find the entire lounge intimidating.
One of the things I love about Almond Bay High is that almost all the facilities are up to date. The classrooms are freshly painted, our desks are modern, the hallways are not dark and dingy, the landscaping is pristine, and unlike other high schools around the country, this is an outside high school, meaning it’s not one giant building. It’s a bunch of small buildings, so to get around, you walk outside.
You get your vitamin D, you’re not trapped inside all the time, and it doesn’t feel like a jail. I love it.
But this huge lounge has leather couches and high-top dining room tables. It also has two fridges, three coffee makers, and a snack bar.
A freaking snack bar.
Where does the budget come from?
A few teachers are milling about already, so I decide to make myself known and join a table. I walk up to the first one I see. A man’s back is toward me, so I say, “Is this seat taken?”
He turns toward me and . . . good God, is he attractive.
Gorgeous blue eyes, so dark that they almost look like a midnight blue. His blond hair styled into a faux hawk effortlessly falls right into his trimmed beard. His cheeks are rosy, his lips are full, and he looks like he stepped off a magazine cover rather than came from teaching a few classes to some high schoolers.
“Not at all. Take a seat,” he says and holds out his hand. “I’m Christian.”
I take his hand in mine. “Christian, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Gabby Brinkman, the new math teacher.”
“Oh yes, I saw Herbert’s email about you joining the staff. How do you like it so far?”
“So far, it’s been great. I’m still getting into the swing of things. This is only my second teaching job, so I’m still trying to find my voice.”
He nods. “I understand that. I remember I was so nervous when I was first starting, but now that I’m five years in, it feels like second nature.”
“That’s where I’m hoping to get. When I was student teaching, there was a level of comfort there, but now that I’m on my own . . . yikes.”
He chuckles as I take out the yogurt, granola, and berries I brought for lunch. “High schoolers can be humbling.”
“They can be, but I think I’m handling them pretty okay at the moment. They seem to like me, not to toot my own horn, and they’ve waved to me outside the classroom.”
