Page 6 of Picture This

“Thanks.” Emily turned and hurried up the stairs. Before she opened the door, she straightened her spine and smoothed down the skirt of her denim dress. Then she lifted her chin and went into the lodge to join the fray.

I had no desire to mingle with the crowd inside, so I rounded the corner of the building, walking through the lawn to the back patio.

A bartender was busy setting up a station for tonight’s festivities. Beside his bar were two coolers, and rummaging through one was Delylah.

She fished out an IPA and stood, letting the cooler’s lid flop closed. With a quick twist of the cap, she pressed the bottle to her lips. After a gulp, she let the bottle hang at her side as she closed her eyes, tipping her face to the clear blue sky.

“Long day?” I asked.

She jumped, her eyes popping open.

“Sorry. Thought you heard me.”

“No.” She shook her head and straightened her bangs. She’d pulled her hair up into a ponytail since I’d seen her in the lobby, tying it back with a polka-dot scarf.

My fingers itched to tug at the end and set her brown hair free. I loved her hair when it was down. But I tucked my hands into my jeans pockets instead.

“H-hey, Noah.”

“Hey, Lylah.”

Her cheeks flushed as she smiled. She tried to hide that blush by looking to her shoes, but I caught it.

I grinned, bending down to flip open the cooler and grab my own beer. I twisted off the top and clinked it against hers. “Cheers. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. It’s been a while.” She looked up, smiling as she took another drink. Her warm brown eyes caught the afternoon sunlight, making the caramel and cinnamon flecks in her irises glow.

How pissed would Emily be if I ditched Luca’s parents tonight and followed Delylah around like I was her new shadow instead?

“How’s New York?” I asked.

“It’s all right.” She sighed, closing her eyes as she drew in a deep inhale, breathing in the scents of pine trees and clean air. “But it’s not Montana.”

“Homesick?”

“I think so.” She opened her eyes and gave me a sweet smile.

My chest squeezed, the pressure so tight I forgot to breathe. Now it was my turn to look down and hide a grin. “Still taking pictures?”

She bent and picked up a black camera I hadn’t noticed beside the cooler. “Never leave home without it. What about you? Still teaching fifth grade?”

“Now I’m teaching middle school. Seventh and eighth graders. The kids are obnoxious and loud and sweet and hormonal. They’re either laughing or crying. I love them. They make every day an adventure.”

“I bet you’re everyone’s favorite teacher.”

“Damn straight.”

She laughed, the sound musical and soft, as she looked down at her camera, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the different buttons.

I’d moved home after college to take a teaching job at the same school where I’d gone as a kid. There’d been a few times when I’d considered a big city with a large school, but it was the students who kept me here.

The fifth graders from my first year teaching were in high school now and would be graduating soon. Some still came to see me from time to time. I couldn’t go to the grocery store or gas station without bumping into a student or family I knew from teaching.

Around town, I was known as Mr. C.

Every year that passed, I was more and more invested in my small town. It wasn’t the life for everyone. Gossip ran rampant, and most of my students would move away for better job opportunities. I understood why Delylah and Emily had left after high school. But Montana was home. This was where I’d planted my roots.

“Ready for this weekend?” Delylah asked.