by Emma Nichole
“Oh, right. I forgot you had to do that today. Bobbing for apples?”
The fire department sponsors and works a booth every single year, and every member of the crew has to swing by and man the booth for half an hour.
“S’mores, actually.” I sidestep quickly as a pair of little kids bolt past us, running toward the bouncy house that resides at the far end of the street.
“Yum. Those are my favorite.”
“I’m going to find the guys and take over for a bit, but I’ll text you when I’m finished and find out where you are, okay?”
“Okay. I’m just going to check out some booths and shops. I’ll be around.” She rises up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to my lips, and I let her, even though my every urge is to turn away from her affection, especially in front of everyone all around us. I don’t want her thinking this could grow into more than it is, even if that makes me an asshole.
The hurt in her eyes isn’t lost on me as she pulls away, and stuffs her hands into the back pocket of her jeans before turning to head off toward the other side of the street.
With a heavy sigh that extends my cheeks out into a bubble, I remove my baseball cap, slide my hand through my hair then plop the cap right back on.
Fucking women. They will be the death of me.
***
“It’s about damn time,” Grady says, as he tends to the small fire used to roast the marshmallows.
“Language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” I joke. “I just got here, came straight to you.”
“You just couldn’t stay away, could you?” He blows me a kiss like the asshole he is.
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. Your charming personality and boyish good looks are irresistible. I had to leave my smoking hot date all by herself to come see you.” I pull some gloves on to my hands and start breaking apart pieces of chocolate.
The line for our booth stretches back into the middle of the street with excited children and their parents eager for this campfire classic, but mixed in are young girls with fluttering eyes, looking to flirt with firemen, and their boyfriends with puffed out chests beside them.
“Keep up the good work, fellas.”
I look up toward the voice and smile.
“Thanks, Dylan. I really needed your encouragement. I’m not sure how I could keep on without it,” I tease her.
She gives the baseball cap on her head a tug down until the bill touches the sunglasses covering her eyes. She doesn’t always try the whole incognito thing, but when there is a crowd, it’s a bit safer.
Being a very well-known singer-songwriter and having a normal life is a delicate balance for her from what I’ve gathered from Grady. They try to keep life as simple as possible.
“Are you flirting with my girl, Black?” Grady asks over my shoulder then rounds the counter to place a kiss to the top of Dylan’s head.
“I was trying to convince her that I’m the best-looking man in the firehouse, but she seems to be blinded by whatever it is that she likes about you. I told her I’d wait for her,” I say with a laugh. We’ve always had this type of easy friendship. It’s something I appreciate, and it’s needed in our line of work.
“Shh. Don’t tell him our secrets, Isaac.” She gives me a wink then slides her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
After setting Dylan up with the things she needs for a s’more, she heads over to the small firepit with Grady to roast her marshmallows.
Thirty minutes passes in a breeze of easy conversation with the citizens of Sunnyville as they make their way through our booth and the many others that are open to their business. This is the highlight of the season for our city, and everyone goes all out. Perk of living in a small town, I suppose.
As the clock strikes 8 p.m., our city mayor comes over the PA system and her voice seeps out of the many speakers lining the street.
“Ladies and gentleman, I hope you are enjoying your time here at our Annual Harvest Festival. As tradition, the Sunnyville High School band and dance team have put together a performance and will be showing off their skills at the stage in the center of the square. Take it away, boys and girls!”
I stand just on the outside of the booth with my arms crossed over my chest, watching as the performance begins along with everyone else.
That’s not what catches my attention though, because movement just to the side of the stage pummels me like a punch to the gut.
At first, it’s a flash of dark, brown hair pulled into a loose braid that hangs over her shoulder. Then it’s a blip of her tanned arms in the air as she dances to the music without a care in the world. A black bracelet decorates her wrist, red fingernails dot the ends of her fingers, and the most beautiful smile I’ve seen in recent memory shines perfectly on her face.
I can’t see much of her body from here, but I can see she’s wearing a black T-shirt with some kind of large logo on the front, like a concert shirt, and I can make out the tops of denim shorts or jeans hugging her hips.
My eyes are drawn to her even when I try to force my attention away over the next few minutes, but no matter how hard I try, my gaze finds her again.
She is watching the performance with closed eyes now while also sinking her teeth into a caramel apple, chewing slowly and licking the sticky treat from her lips.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Stop staring like a lunatic, Black.
“Hey!” Isabelle says, wrapping her arms around my middle and scaring the shit out of me in the process.
“Jesus Christ!” I spin around quickly and grip her shoulders. “Holy hell, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she giggles. “I didn’t mean to. I said your name a couple times, but you didn’t hear me. I guess high school band really had your attention.”
Not quite.
“What can I say? I’m a fan of the trumpet.” I shrug, wrapping my arm around her and pulling her around to stand with me.
I turn back around with Isabelle at my side, but my eyes search for a certain brunette who, much to my dismay, is nowhere to be seen.
Sawyer
“Damn, you all really do big things around here for this, don’t you?” I add some soap into my hands and wash them under warm water in the bathroom.
“We love our festivals, especially of the Harvest variety,” Olivia says from the stall behind me.
She was the very first friend I made since moving to Sunnyville earlier this year. We both teach English at Sunnyville High, and having her around has made this transition easier than I could have imagined.
I stayed in Los Angeles as long as I could, and arguably longer than I should have, until I just needed a change.
New place. New job. New people. New me.
“I like it. I didn’t know if I would really love the small-town vibe after so long in the big city but I have to say, it’s growing on me.” I pull out my cell phone and scroll through social media while I wait for her to finish.
“You fit in well here, and I mean, it also helps you’re a dime piece and really cool and easy to talk to, with a personality for days.” She opens the stall door and comes to the sink to wash her hands. “Actually, come to think of it, I should hate you. No one should have that much going in their favor. Did you make a deal with the devil?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding me right now? Do you see yourself with your beautiful, curly blonde hair and perfect skin? It’s disgusting,” I tease her.
“You’re right.” She fluffs her hair in the mirror. “We are pretty bad bitches, huh?”
Being the youngest teachers in the school, me being twenty-eight and Olivia being twenty-six, has put us in a position of having to perform extra well because when you are young, capable, and a woman, the older men and women in your field tend to feel a certain type of way toward you.
So we banded together, promised to have each other’s back always. I’ve only known her for nine months, but it’s like I’ve known her my entire life.
“Wel
l, this bad bitch has a hankering for some of that fried bacon stuff I smelled on the way in. Let’s go get some of that.”
“I like the way you think. We’ll get some.” She slips her sunglasses back onto her face. “Let’s roll.”
I reach for the bathroom door to open it, but to my surprise, it pushes forward on its own, causing me to startle a bit and step back.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the pretty redhead on the other side says when she sees we were on our way out as she was coming in.
“No, no, that’s all right,” I tell her. “It happens.”
She gives us a small wave and heads back into a stall.
I adjust my crossbody bag on my chest, looking down for just a moment to make sure it’s hanging the way I want when I collide into a solid brick of man.
“Shit! Fuck!” he exclaims loudly, as I ricochet off his body and stumble back, nearly falling.
It takes a moment to register what the issue is, but I soon see he must have been holding two drinks in his hands, because they are now on the ground and the contents are all over his shirt.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck those are hot,” he says again, jumping up and down, tugging his shirt out away from his body.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I didn’t even see you,” I tell him, stepping closer. “Let me pay to get the stains out.”
“No, no. That’s okay. It’s an old tee. It was just hot. No harm, no foul.” He finally looks up and our eyes meet, and he stumbles back a bit, kind of like I did, but an unseen force caused his movement.
“Are you sure? That looks like hot chocolate. That will absolutely stain.”
He is, without a doubt, one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen in my entire life, at least in person. He is taller than me by at least a foot, and considering I’m five foot three, he towers over me. His shoulders are broad with arms extending from them that aren’t huge, but they are clearly strong, considering the way the sleeves of his tee cling and stretch over them, and don’t even get me started on the face. Wow.
He shakes his head, sending whichever thought that was there speeding away and a smile takes its place.
“I’m positive. It’s no big deal at all.”
“At least let me buy you another drink. It’s the least I could do.”
“You look familiar,” Olivia, who has been unusually quiet, pipes in. “Where do I know you from?”
“Maybe I just have one of those faces,” he answers her but his eyes are squarely on me, and it sends a delicious chill up my body that I haven’t felt in so long.
“No, I definitely know you from somewhere.” She scrolls through her phone for a second, like it’s going to have all the answers, and then she exclaims loudly. “Ah ha! You’re June!”
“He’s what?” I ask, confused.
“June. In the Sunnyville Fire Department Calendar. He’s the month of June.” She flips her phone around to show the man in front of us dressed in a pair of fireman pants and nothing else.
Of course, he’s a firefighter, because the universe likes to mess with me.
“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck in what I can only assume is embarrassment, “yeah, that’s me. I’m Isaac Black.” He holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you…” The question lingers, implying we should introduce ourselves.
“Sawyer.” I slide my hand into his. His grip is strong and firm. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Olivia,” she chimes in, shaking his hand after I do.
I shift on my feet a bit and catch him staring again, but this time he smiles at me, very brazen in his clear display of checking me out.
I’m just about to call him on it when a flashing red flag comes bounding in.
“Sorry about that, Isaac. I’m back.”
The voice from my left pulls my focus from him and our hands drop to our sides.
The pretty redhead, who startled me in the bathroom, snuggles up at his side, dropping a kiss to his shoulder.
“What happened?” she asks, when she notices his shirt is completely covered in hot chocolate.
I chime in, “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I collided into your boyfriend. The drinks went everywhere. I offered to buy more, but he wouldn’t accept it.” I arch my brow, silently calling him on the carpet for checking me out while on a date.
They speak in complete unison.
“I’m not her boyfriend.”
“Oh, that’s okay we—”
Awkward.
“Well, on that note, Sawyer and I should get back to the festival,” Olivia says. “Isaac aka June, it was nice meeting you, and… you too, Not Isaac’s Girlfriend.”
I offer my apologies again about the incident and then we get out of there as fast as we can, all the while mouthing, “Oh my God” to one another.
Chapter 2
Sawyer
“Can anyone tell me what the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock in East Egg represents or symbolizes for Gatsby?” I stand at the front of my classroom with a Smart Board behind me, staring out into a group of high school juniors. Some are paying full attention and completely engaged, some are trying to sneak in their phone, but they aren’t doing a great job, others are staring off into space.
“Come on, guys, work with me here. The Great Gatsby is one of the most interesting pieces of literature you’ll ever study. I know at least one of you read it.”
A young man in the back raises his hand and I point to him for an answer.
“I think that it could represent something that Gatsby wants. It’s something he looks for every day… kind of like a goal.”
I smile wide. “That’s a great answer, Alex.” I turn and write on the board. “The green light represents Daisy and the things Gatsby wants for his future. So close, yet still out of reach.”
Growing up, the only thing I ever wanted in life was to be a teacher. I love guiding young people in the most important times of their lives and doing what I can to make sure they get the most out of life. That’s not to say it’s an easy job, because it isn’t. It’s the hardest job I’ve ever had, but it’s beyond rewarding.
I turn back to face my second period class.
“I’m going to be asking you to read—”
The sound of the fire alarm zings through the room. It’s loud, unyielding, and you can feel it deep in your ears.
“Ms. Westbrook, is this a drill?” Danielle, one of my students, asks as everyone bolts up to their feet.
I check my watch. “It is. This was slated to happen sometime this morning.” I go over to my desk and grab my bag from the bottom drawer. “We’ll be coming back here afterward. Just leave all of your things, and follow me down the hall and out to our designated area.”
It’s harder than you’d think to carefully guide hundreds of teenagers in an orderly fashion out the door, but somehow we manage to make it all the way out onto the football field without too much fuss.
Once I make sure all of my students are accounted for, I look around for Olivia and her class so I can pop over to their line to say hello.
“Think this will last long?” I ask, when I bump her with my elbow.
“Who knows? The fire department sent a couple trucks over to go in and make sure all of our fire safety things are in working order, but I wouldn’t think that would take too long.”
“Well, that’s good at least. It’ll make me feel better knowing those things work.”
Ever since the fires five years ago, I’ve become, I wouldn’t say paranoid, but hyperaware of fire safety and how things should and shouldn’t be.
Not that those things would have made a difference that night. My house was going no matter what we did or the precautions we took. My brother however…
“Hello. Earth to Sawyer.” Olivia waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of the potential very dark tunnel I was about to spiral down.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m just not a fan of this stuff or thinking about it, ya k
now?”
“I know.” She leans her head on my shoulder for just a moment.
I kept my experience with the Los Angeles wildfires private when I moved to Sunnyville, simply because it’s not something I want to discuss ad nauseam. I had completely left that Sawyer behind. I grew my hair out, completely changed the color, had Lasik surgery. I became a new me… literally.
It wasn’t until Liv and I decided to order sushi and get wine drunk a few months ago that the entire story spilled out in a rush of curse words and tears.
I head back down to my side of the field to check in on my class when Principal Andrews comes over the PA system to let us know we can come back into the building, and to be kind and respectful as the gentleman from the Sunnyville Fire Department are still in the halls and at the doors.
Getting everyone inside seems to be a bit more chaotic than getting everyone out, so by the time we have stepped into the cool, air-conditioned lobby of the school, I’ve ended up at the back my line of students.
Off to the side, near the lobby, there is a small huddle of two or three men dressed in blue slacks with blue shirts tucked in. The back bears a symbol of two crossing axes with the fire station’s numbers at the top.
I wish I could say I was staring for no reason, but the truth is, I’m looking for him.
Isaac Black.
Ever since I covered him with hot chocolate three days ago, he’s been present in my mind. Maybe he’s not in my every thought, but he’s made a home deep in my subconscious.
Get back to work, Westbrook.
I turn on my heel to head back down the hall to my classroom, but I’m halted by someone directly in my path.
“Jesus!” I say, completely startled and way too loudly, calling the attention of everyone in my general vicinity.
The lobby goes silent and every eye in the room is on me.
“We have to stop running into each other like this… literally.” His voice is deep, a bit raspy even.
It’s then I realize his hands are on my waist, keeping me upright because otherwise I’d be on my ass right now.
