Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Me: Yes.
Okay. Thank you for telling me. I’ll keep that in mind. I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can. If there’s something you need, tell me. If there’s something from your past that affects your response to something I do or say, tell me that too.
My stomach twists. I…don’t like the idea of that, but I also want to make him proud. I want to be good for him. Sir is giving me this, so I can at least try and be as good for him as I can.
Me: Yes, Sir.
Thanks. I need to take care of something, so we’ll talk again tonight. What time do you typically go to bed?
Me: About ten or eleven.
I’ll message you at 9:30. Before that I’d like you to send me a text with your work schedule and any other weekly appointments you might have. You don’t have to tell me what they are, but I want to get an idea of what your weeks are like.
I shift uncomfortably, but…why is blood also rushing toward my groin? Why is my skin tingling and my dick beginning to chub?
Me: Yes, Sir. Thank you.
Good boy. We’ll talk soon.
I don’t respond right away, not sure what I would even say, so I work on writing out my weekly schedule on a piece of paper, then take a photo and send it to him. He doesn’t respond, and I try not to stress about it. He made it sound like he’s busy. It’s not because I did anything wrong. I hate that my brain automatically goes there.
Nash and Sadie are done with her hair when I return. He’s in the living room, Sadie at the kitchen counter. “Sorry,” she says. “My hair is really thick and hard for me to do.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for. Is there anything you need me to get you?”
What special things do girls need for their hair?
“Um…maybe a good leave-in conditioner.”
“Okay. And you can always ask me for something if you need it. I’m not used to this, so I won’t know if you don’t tell me.”
Sadie nods, then goes back to her drawing.
As I season and tenderize the chicken, I feel her gaze on me from time to time. She watches me while I start the roasted potatoes, put the chicken on the stove, and as I wash and cut broccoli. I should probably say something to her, but I don’t know what. It’s different speaking to students in my classes because they’re older and, well, they aren’t a sibling I’m still trying to adjust to having. Still, I try to rack my brain for something to talk to her about, but I realize I know nothing about her.
“How’s school?”
Sadie shrugs. “Okay.”
“Have you made any friends?”
“No.” She doesn’t look up from her art, which then reminds me I do know something about her.
“It’ll happen. It just takes some time.” But the truth is, it doesn’t always happen. I didn’t have friends when I was her age, not when I was Nash’s age either, and as I stand there watching her, I realize how much I don’t want that fate for them. “Maybe we can bring something nice for the class. Cupcakes?” Are they allowed to do that? Will that make the other kids like her?
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, working on leaves in a tree. “But thank you,” she says softer.
“You’re welcome. Let me know if you change your mind.” She nods but doesn’t reply, and I try to think of what else to tell her, wanting to do the best I can in this moment because for the first time, it feels like I’m not screwing up with them. “You’re very good at drawing. Maybe we can find you an art class.”
Sadie’s head snaps up, her eyes wide, the only burst of excitement I’ve ever seen there, before they dim again. “It’s too much. You don’t have to.”
“I know, but I’d like to.”
“It’s okay. Thank you.” She looks behind her at her brother, who has earbuds in and isn’t paying attention to us. “Nash likes basketball.”
Well, that’s good to know. I’d begun to think he didn’t like anything except Sadie.
“He wanted to play on the team last year, but he couldn’t.”
Basketball. Okay. I can handle that. I don’t know anything about the game myself, but I can figure out basketball.
It takes me a moment to realize what this little girl is doing, that she’s trying to find a way for me to do something nice for Nash because she cares about him and wants something nice for him, but also, maybe so Nash and I find a way to connect too.
“Thank you, Sadie. I appreciate your help. As I said before, I’m not very good at this.”
“You do more for us than she did.”