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I jump and spin around, the unfamiliar voice coming from behind me. The woman leaning in my doorway isn’t one I remember ever meeting before, but she seems kind enough at first glance.

She has her bright blonde hair up in a braided ponytail and deep emerald-green eyes open and clear beneath lightly mascara-coated lashes. Cheeks pinkened with a natural blush and freckles splattered over her narrow nose and forehead, there’s something incredibly dainty about her. Her height adds to that, and it’s almost hard to believe that someone can bethatmuch shorter than me.

Dressed in a loose-fitting, ankle-length skirt that matches the mossy colour of her eyes and a white blazer with a simple top beneath, I feel an instant comradery with her and her sense of style. My vintage, light-washed jean overalls with hand-painteddaffodils are a bit more casual than her attire, but I have a feeling we’ll match often in the future.

I keep my voice light as I skip toward her. “Hi! Thank you. I can’t take full credit for it; I believe my girlfriend and her best friend had more to do with this than I did. I’m Daisy Mitchell. I’d shake your hand, but I’ve got my arms a little full.”

“Here, let me help you.” She reaches for my binders and takes two from my arms before striding past me and setting them on my desk. “I’m Delaney. It’s nice to meet you. Any relation to Rachel Mitchell?”

I drop the rest of my things on the desk beside the binders and huff, leaning back against the side of it. “She’s my mom, actually.”

Light sparks in her eyes. Recognition, rather. “That’s right! She mentioned her Daisy girl to me a few times in the past.”

“How do you know my mom?”

It’s not a surprise that Mama’s been talking someone’s ears off about her kids. She doesn’t need much provoking to do it the majority of the time. But I am curious why she would tell this woman in particular about us.

Delaney’s easy stare sweeps over the classroom as she takes her time answering. I don’t push, but my curiosity does grow an inch at her silence.

“She was my therapist for a few years. When I moved back to town after graduating university.”

Regret slashes through me like a knife. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push. We just met!”

Her laugh is delicate, like the ice on a lake after winter’s first overnight freeze. “It’s alright. I’m not ashamed of seeking therapy. Your mom helped me a lot back then.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m glad to hear that, though. I’m sure she’d feel smug about knowing she left a lasting impression on you and your life.”

Delaney smiles reassuringly. “Anyway, I’m teaching thirdgrade right next door. If you need anything, just wander on over. Is it your first school year teaching?”

“What gave me away?”

“Honestly, nothing. It’s just a feeling I have.”

“Do I look prepared enough? I feel like I’ve forgotten a million things,” I admit, rubbing my hands together nervously.

“One of the things I’ve learned with teaching, especially when it comes to little kids, is that you’re never properly prepared. Every group of students is different, and what works for one won’t work for the next. The best thing to do is just feel it out as the days come. You’ll adapt to their craziness.”

“You know what? I think I like that perspective,” I say, grinning in appreciation. “I sense a budding friendship here.”

“Yeah, so do I, Daisy.”

“Do you have a lot to do before class, or are you up to grabbing a coffee with me first? I thought I had more to do, but actually . . . I’m feeling pretty confident now.”

I need to text Bryce. My gut is telling me that she was the one behind this classroom transformation, and if I’m right, she deserves the world’s biggest thank you.

This wasn’t part of our agreement. She didn’t have to take time out of her weekend to fix my problems for me. But . . . she did, and my chest feels entirely too small to confine my swelling heart. Combined with the fluttering sensation in my belly, I fear I’m one second away from floating into open air like a balloon.

Her absence from the house on Sunday makes sense now. I hadn’t wanted to ask where she was or what she was doing out of fear of looking like a real-life clingy girlfriend. Now, it’s looking like I won’t have to.

“I wouldn’t mind a coffee,” Delaney accepts my offer.

I beam at her while shrugging off my bag and letting it fall to the desk with a clunk. The only thing I grab from inside of it is my wallet before leaving the room with a new friend at my side.

“Walk or drive?” I ask.

“Drive. Always drive.”

“Mind if we take your car, then? Trust me when I say that you don’t want to have to watch me try to park again once it starts to get busy here.”