Virtuous(30)

Hoping I’ll fall back to sleep, I turn on my side, snuggle up to Fluff, who’s already snoring like a buzz saw. I let my mind wander again through the memories of my hours with Flynn, smiling as I drift peacefully before dropping off into sleep.





By Tuesday, I’m convinced the date with Flynn was a figment of my overactive imagination, not the magical fairy tale I turned it into with more than a little help from Leah. She blabbed the whole thing in the teachers’ room at our school, making me the center of attention all day Monday. She has no way to know how much I hate that kind of attention, so I kept a smile on my face, nodded in all the right places and answered all their foolish questions about what he is really like. It occurred to me late Monday afternoon that they all think I slept with him. Of course I did.

The school buzzes with my Flynn Godfrey news until noon on Tuesday when Mrs. Heffernan’s husband is caught driving drunk in New Jersey with a woman who isn’t his wife in the passenger seat. That news takes precedence over my brief flirtation with Hollywood, which is over now as far as I’m concerned.

Two days without a word from him sends a rather straightforward message.

A few minutes before dismissal on Tuesday, one of my favorite students, Logan Gifford, comes up to my desk.

“Miss Bryant?” He’s always so polite and solemn, and I adore him. His mother is fighting an awful battle with breast cancer, and the whole school has rallied around their family with fundraisers and meal deliveries and anything else we can do for them. I make sure to hug Logan at least once a day to let him know I care.

“What’s up, Logan?”

He glances over his shoulder to make sure none of his friends are listening to our conversation, but they are taking full advantage of the ten minutes I give them at the end of every day to talk freely to each other. “I was wondering…” His dark hair falls over his forehead, and he has a slight lisp thanks to his missing front teeth. He’s utterly adorable.

“What were you wondering about, honey?”

“When we went to art class, I heard Mrs. Drake say that you met that movie star, Flynn Goffy.”

“Flynn Godfrey. Yes, I did.”

After another glance over his shoulder, Logan says, “He’s my mom’s favorite. She loves him and all his movies. I was just wondering if he could come over to my house to see her.”

I feel as if all the air has been sucked from my lungs—for two reasons. First, what Logan is asking would require me to reach out to Flynn, and I have no plans to do that—ever. And second, how sweet is he to think of his mom this way? It nearly brings me to tears. Then the bell rings, and all hell breaks loose as the kids bound for the door.

“I’ll try,” I say to Logan, drawing a small smile from him.

“Thanks, Miss Bryant.” He gives me an impulsive little hug before he too bolts from the room.

I grab my coat and follow behind my class, making sure each of them gets to where they’re supposed to be before heading back to my classroom to straighten up. I clean the surfaces with disinfectant wipes, prepare my lesson plans for tomorrow and correct the stack of papers the children completed that day.

As I work, Logan’s request weighs heavily on my mind. The cute little guy has been so stoic and brave as his mother wages war with cancer. Single mom Aileen Gifford is an incredible person, so upbeat and positive despite a rather grim prognosis. I like her as much as I like her son, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of them. I’ve even given Aileen my number and offered to stay with Logan and his younger sister if she ever needs me. I haven’t told Leah or any of my other colleagues how involved I’ve gotten with their family, but you’d have to be awfully coldhearted not to be drawn in by their plight.

The thought of being able to brighten her world for a brief moment with one simple phone call or text is tempting, to say the least. I pick up my phone from the desktop, open the text screen and scroll back to the one text he sent me Saturday when he was still looking forward to seeing me again.

I stare at the screen for a long time. My insides are twisted up in knots. All day Sunday, I waited to hear from him. I was sure I would hear from him after the evening we spent together. Leah pestered me endlessly, asking if he’d called. After the twentieth time, I snapped at her, and she stopped asking. Then Sunday became Monday, and Monday became Tuesday. I might be new to dating and men, but I recognize a blow-off when I see one.

Still… I can’t get Logan’s little face out of my mind or the way he screwed up the courage to ask me to set this up for his mother. Finding my own courage, I blow out a deep breath and begin to type.