Ever After Drake Page 2

  My face feels hot when I tear my eyes away and actually look where I am going. I want to gouge my own eyes out I feel so stupid.

  I open the far back cabinet and pull out a box. When I cleaned out my room a few weeks back I found a handful of random books.

  “Here you are,” I say as I hand them over. He takes the box and puts it under one arm.

  “Thanks,” he says, that lopsided smile crossing his lips again. “How…how’s your first day gone?”

  I shake my head and back up two steps so I am leaning against the whiteboard. “It’s, uh…been a bit of a disaster?” I’m too embarrassed to form it as a statement. A question is less humiliating.

  “That bad, huh?” he says with a chuckle. He sets the box at his feet and leans against the wall with one shoulder.

  I groan, my eyes rising to the ceiling. “I got dumped first thing this morning.”

  “Ouch,” he says, sucking in air. “That’s a rough way to start the day.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “And then one of my students thought I was a student and totally flirted with me.”

  “Ouch again,” he says, chuckling. I can’t help it when an embarrassed smile breaks out on my face. “Did you get a name? Maybe it was a former student of mine.”

  “It was kind of a weird one,” I say, struggling to remember. “Lake? Lake McCain I think.”

  A chuckle bubbles up out of Drake, which escalates into a full-bellied laugh that goes on for a good twenty seconds. He actually wipes at the corner of his eye while I give him a quizzical look.

  “Lake…” he says, trying to get his laughter under control. “Lake is my little brother. My last name is McCain.”

  “What?” I cry, the humiliation doubling. “Oh my gosh…” I cover my face with my hands. “Your brother?”

  “Lake can be a little assertive,” he says and I can hear the smile that is still on his face. “But he’s an idiot for assuming you’re a student.”

  I uncover my face just a little bit to look at him, and see a warm expression on his face. There’s the hint of a smile, and his eyes are soft and open.

  Is Drake McCain flirting with me?

  Instantly my eyes dart to the ring finger of this left hand. Completely devoid of any kind of band.

  “So, you teach at the same school your brother goes to,” I say, moving on when I’m not sure how to react to his statement or my intense interest in his relationship status. I’m also trying to redirect the conversation from my humiliation to anything else. “Does that mean you were once a student here yourself?”

  “Unfortunately,” he says. He slides down the wall and keeps one knee bent up, the other stretching out in front of him. I sink down onto the floor as well. “I graduated from here eight years ago. Went to school at UW and then low and behold, my old stomping grounds are looking for a new history teacher. This will be my third year teaching here.”

  “That’s got to be terrible,” I say as a chuckle bursts from my lips. I do the math, trying to figure out how old he is. Twenty-five? Twenty-six? “It’s bad enough deciding to live through high school every day for the rest of your life, but having to do it at your actual high school?”

  “I know, right?” he says as he wrinkles his nose and gives a pained looking smile. “I got reamed by Mr. Kezwick once in this very room for not writing a paper on time.”

  “This room?” I say.

  “Um hum,” he replies with a nod. “It was truly horrific. He still gives me dirty looks every chance he gets.”

  “That’s awful.” There’s a ridiculous smile on my face.

  “What about you?” he says, his eyes meeting mine in the dim light. “Where’d you graduate from?”

  “I went to La Connor High,” I say. “Home of the Braves. Then I moved on to Western for college.”

  “Nice,” Drake says with a nod of his head. Just then the bell rings for lunch. “You wanna come eat in the teacher’s lounge with me? I can show you around.”

  I give him a side look, the strangest feeling of butterflies in my stomach kicking up. A feeling that I’ve felt so many other times before.

  “Thanks,” I say. “But I think I’m going to hide in this dark room for a little while longer and try to prepare myself to not bomb so hard again for last period.”

  He nods his head with a smile. “Okay,” he says. “Maybe you’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

  He climbs to his feet and holds a hand out to me. I hesitate. There’s something intimate and personal about touch. And suddenly, I realize I haven’t thought or cared about Alan this entire conversation. This morning I was heartbroken over that text, and now, just a few hours later, this very attractive predecessor of mine seems to be flirting with me. And I kind of like it.

  I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet.

  “I hope your last class goes better for you,” he says as he bends over and picks up his box. “Don’t let them take advantage of you. They can smell fear.”

  “I’ll try to be brave,” I say with a smile when he hesitates in the door.

  “See you around, Kaylee.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “I thought only nerds hung out in the library during their free time.”

  I lean in close, saying the words right next to his ear.

  Drake jerks from his position of leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table; and nearly falls over. His eyes grow wide and alarmed, and then he sees me and a chuckle comes from his lips and he shakes his head.

  He tugs his ear buds out as I sit at the table across from him.

  “I’m pretty sure every teacher throughout the course of history is a huge nerd,” he says as he rights himself and leans forward with his forearms on the table.

  “You may have a point there,” I say, a smile already forming on my face. “We have chosen to spend the rest of our days within the walls of a school.”

  “One day we may even be wise,” he says, his eyes brightening.

  “Whatcha’ listening to?” I ask. The sound of his music cuts softly through the silence of the library. So far, I’ve managed to not bomb my second day of teaching.

  “The Fray,” he answers, grabbing his iPod from his lap and turning the volume down.

  “Song?”

  “Uh,” he says, glancing back down at it. “Happiness.”

  “Never heard that one,” I admit.

  “You should check it out, it’s a good one.”

  “Let me see,” I say, holding my hand out. He looks at me hesitantly. I realize then that Drake always has this slightly surprised look on his face, at least when he’s been around me. Like he’s expecting to get in trouble or that I’m going to do something surprising and scare him.

  It’s kind of adorable.

  But the most endearing part is the smile that always seems to follow that look.

  Just like right now.

  He leans across the table and hands me an ear bud. He places the other in his own ear. I place the bud in mine and he clicks play again.

  “Do you always listen to music like this?” I ask as the singer goes on about the ins and outs of happiness. It’s kind of sad and beautiful at the same time.

  Drake shrugs. “I like all kinds of music.”

  “Rock?”

  “Some might consider this rock,” he says as his eyes meet mine. They’re a color that isn’t quite brown, but isn’t quite green. Hazel-warm.

  “How about country?” I tease.

  “Not all, but there’s some good stuff out there.” He has that lopsided grin on his face again.

  “Um…reggae?”

  “Bob Marley will always be King.” He gives a stuttering laugh and I burst out into it too.

  “How about Broadway?” I say quietly when the librarian shushes us.

  “K, don’t make fun, but I know every song from Newsies by heart,” he says, his eyes dead serious. He is, however, fighting a smile.

  “I love Newsies,” I say with a coo. “Young Christian Bale was so
cute.”

  “I don’t like it for that reason,” he laughs again.

  I actually cover my smile with a hand. I feel like such a nerd, laughing and giggling with a boy in the library.

  The song comes to an end and Drake pulls both our ear buds out and clicks the iPod off.

  “So,” I say, leaning back and folding my arms over my chest. “This is twice now I’ve seen you just lounging about during third period. Is it safe to assume this is also your break period?”

  “It is indeed,” Drake says with a nod. “You’re pretty lucky to have scored third period break. It is most coveted since it proceeds lunch. What administrative gods did you please before you started here?”

  “Pure dumb luck,” I say. “Though I may have offered up a prayer to Ra before school started yesterday.”

  “Really?” he asks, his expression unsure.

  I laugh, trying to keep it quiet and not really succeeding. “No,” I say shaking my head. “Don’t forget, I teach Ancient World History. I had to throw in an Egyptian god joke somewhere. Though my last name is Ray, so Ra, the sun god, has always been one of my favorites.”

  “Ray suits you,” Drake says, his eyes fixing on mine. He has this play on his lips, like there’s a smile hidden just under the surface.

  I give a little smile of my own, unsure how to handle these little things he keeps saying.

  “So, are there any teachers at this school I need to stay away from?” I ask, redirecting the situation.

  My change in conversation has obviously thrown Drake off and he gets that look on his face again. But just for a moment.

  He really needs to stop doing that. It keeps doing unexplainable things to my insides. Like filling them with butterflies and rainbows.

  “Mr. Allen, for sure,” he says, leaning back and propping his feet up on the table once again. “He’s notorious for flirting with any woman who has blond hair, despite the fact that he’s been married to his wife for something like twenty-five years.”

  “That’s awful,” I say, wrinkling my nose, and trying not to think about the fact that the name Allen reminds me of a certain ex-boyfriend who invested more into his data plan than me.

  “And it isn’t just the blond teachers he flirts with,” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

  “Sounds like an arrest waiting to happen.”

  “That’s what I’ve said since my freshman year here,” he says with a shake of his head. “Who else? Uh, Mrs. Dexter doesn’t like to talk to anyone, she teaches French. Mr. Andros is pretty socially handicapped, he’s only part-time and teaches all the AP math classes. Other than that, everyone else is pretty okay.”

  “Doesn’t sound too frightening,” I say. “It can’t be worse than Gretta Bejrn, who I student taught for last year. She found it appropriate to point out every mistake I ever made. And I have a suspicion that she was constantly setting me up for failure.”

  “See, I had the exact opposite,” Drake says with a smile. “Kevin Duran was this old fogy about to retire and he basically just handed the entire class over to me. He’d head for his desk at the back of the class as soon as we got started and zonk out. The man snored like a snarling wolf.”

  I laugh again, looking around to be sure no one can overhear us.

  The lunch bell rings overhead and the library is instantly flooded with noise from out in the halls.

  “So, you brave enough to face the teacher’s lounge yet?” Drake asks.

  I swallow hard. To be honest, I’m terrified. I know how young I look. I know what other teachers think of fresh newbies. So far I’ve managed to avoid pretty much everyone but Drake.

  “Yeah,” I lie, plastering on a bright smile. “Let’s do this.”

  There are two other teachers here besides me that are brand new. Duncan Scott has also just graduated and is a fresh teacher in the biology department. And Anita Blasser transferred from somewhere in Seattle to teach Chemistry.

  Anita’s a pro and fits right into the swing of things. Duncan looks just as scared as me and sits at the back of the lounge silent and timid. I feel bad for him. If Drake weren’t so busy furiously introducing me to everyone, I’d go sit and talk with him.

  Everyone is welcoming, for the most part, and there is plenty of teasing and a good helping of hard times. But I’m glad I came with Drake. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone around who forces you to be brave.

  Fourth period World History finally wraps up the last of the first day droning. Maybe it’s an attempt to get the classes to like me, but I haven’t assigned any homework for the first class. The bell rings and everyone practically rockets out of their seats and heads for the door.

  I did it. I survived my first official two days of teaching. Not that I actually taught anything, telling students that we’ll be briefly going over the history of the entire world doesn’t really count. But still, they didn’t kill me with their judgmental and condescending stares.

  I start gathering my things up.

  “So, you found your way around the school yet?”

  I look toward the door to see Lake leaning against it. His arms are crossed over his chest and he’s giving me this coy smile.

  He’s quite a bit larger than Drake, but the smile is what really gives them away as brothers.

  “I think I’ve managed just fine, thank you very much.” I’m not sure whether to smile, scowl, or just ignore him. But most of those options would be mean, and I just can’t do it.

  “Don’t you have practice right now?” Suddenly Drake is behind Lake, slapping a hand down on his shoulder. “Dad’s going to kill you if you’re late again.”

  “And leave this pretty little thing to fend for herself?” Lake says, his brows furrowing when he looks at Drake.

  “How about I help Miss Ray out while you go plow into your fellow teammates and grunt like a caveman?”

  Lake is glaring daggers at Drake, but he does eventually turn and walk down the hall.

  Drake looks at me, a lopsided smile on his face. I just look back, my eyebrows raised and disbelieving.

  “Sorry about him,” he finally says. “This school’s senior boys are notorious for giving pretty, young teachers a hard time.”

  There he goes again, giving me compliments.

  I laugh, shaking my head. “It’s fine, I guess I should have expected it considering I look like a freshman myself.”

  Drake’s brows furrow and he shakes his head. “I don’t think you see yourself very clearly.”

  I can feel my face blushing and my cheeks burn. A smile spreads on my face and my eyes drop away from his.

  “So,” I say to the floor before I find the nerve to look up again. “Your dad’s the football coach?”

  “Yeah,” he says with a breathy chuckle. “Us McCain’s have deep roots in Woodinville. Dad’s been coaching the team in one form or another since I was in like, third grade.”

  I sling my bag over my shoulder and pick up the box I need to take home. I start for the door when Drake gives me a little smile and pulls it out of my hands and tucks it under one arm. I know I’m blushing even more as we slowly start walking down the hall toward the parking lot.

  “So, Lake plays on the team. What about you?” I ask.

  Drake shakes his head. “I’m not exactly football player stature. I would have gotten creamed. Dad was always pretty bummed I never played. But this isn’t some sob, daddy-was-never-proud-of-me story. He’s a good guy.”

  I give a little smile, a jealous twinge forming in my heart. “Any other brothers or sisters?” I ask instead as distraction.

  Drake nods. “I’m the oldest. Then I have a sister next, Sage. She’s a senior at UW, she’ll be twenty-one in a few weeks. Then comes Lake, who turns eighteen this year. And last is Kale, who’s thirteen.”

  “Do you like having a big family?” I ask as we step outside the doors. I dig through my bag and fish out the keys. I stop by my Mini Cooper and finally pull out my key ring.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Drake s
ays as he sets the box in the back of the car when I open it for him. “Kind of all I ever knew, you know? And I have to say, this car is very…you.”

  I chuckle. “Why, because it’s tiny?”

  Drake shrugs. “Pretty much all small things are cute. Animals, furniture, cars, women.”

  I give him a long look and struggle to hold back my smile as I do so.

  “So, what about you?” he asks as he closes the back of my car. He walks around to the front of it and leans on the hood. I follow him and prop myself up on the hood. “Any annoyingly cocky siblings in the business of hitting on gorgeous teachers?”

  “Um,” I hesitate, somehow able to ignore his compliment. I hate that I feel slightly ashamed of my family whenever they’re brought up. “My family is kind of complicated.”

  “I think all families are a little complicated,” he says. His voice is quieter though, his tone more hesitant. Like he’s encouraging me to talk, but doesn’t want to push things.

  His eyes drop to the ground and this gives me a chance to study him for a moment.

  Something about Drake makes me feel immediately comfortable, from the moment we met. He’s easy going. He’s relaxed. He’s sweet. And he seems so un-complicated.

  And everything in me immediately trusts him.

  “Okay,” I say, taking a deep breath. “How’s this for complicated? My mom got pregnant with me when she was seventeen. She was a senior in high school. My birthday is the end of July, so she was very pregnant when she graduated. My birth dad was some guy she met at a party and never saw again. She doesn’t even know his name.”

  Drake has looked back up at me and his eyebrows are slightly drawn together and I can already see he feels bad for bringing any of this up.

  But I continue.

  “It was just the two of us for a really long time. I mean, we lived with my grandparents for a few years, but then they decided to be one of those retired couples who drives around in a motorhome all over the country. Grandpa had a heart attack five years ago and grandma followed him soon after.” Mom didn’t handle all that very well.

  “My eighth grade year Mom married Dick Campbell. They stayed married for two years and during that time, Mom got pregnant with my little brother Skyler. He’s seven now. We’re sixteen years apart.”