Page 97 of Connectio

Anyway, I ended up storming out of his home, and we didn’t speak until New Year’s Eve, when he snuck up to my bedroom window and scared the absolute shit out of me and Sasha.

Great guard dog she is.

Pushing open the door to the school office with my hip, I balance my empty mug, mobile phone, and a stack of paper. It’s one week before the new school year commences, and it’s all hands on deck for teachers and staff in preparation for the students’ arrival. I’m teaching Grade 3 this year, on my own without Oliver, thank God, but I do have some of my Grade 2 students from last year, Dylan and Evan to name a couple.

Carly’s behind the reception counter, radio blaring as she claps her hands and dances in her seat.

“Why are you so happy?” I ask, suspicious. She’s been giddy ever since Derek dropped her off this morning.

She stops clapping. “I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“So I’m singing, big deal.”

I laugh and steadily place down the things I’m holding. “Carly, you’re beaming so bright you practically blinded me when I walked in.”

“Am not.”

She’s lying. She’s elated, and she doesn’t want me to know why.

Realisation hits and I squeal. “Oh my God! Either Derek said the L-word, or you have. Or both.”

Plonking my arse on her desk, I deliberately mess her paperwork piles, karma for the pile of laundry she kicked off the sofa during the week.

“You’re an idiot,” she grumbles, and yanks the documents poking out from underneath my butt.

“It was you!” I point at her. “You said it!”

She’s tries to remain aloof by bunching the paperwork in her hand and tapping it on the desktop. “Was there something you wanted? I’m super busy.”

Carly saying the L-word, let alone acknowledging it exists, is a big thing. My love-is-bullshit best friend is, indeed, in love—it’s written all over her lovestruck face—so I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her off easy by pretending it isn’t so.

Pressing my fingertip to my chin, I try a different tactic. “He said it, didn’t he? God knows you wouldn’t.”

“Yes! All right,” she concedes. “We both said it. So what?”

I hug her then childishly pat her on the head. “Carly has finally become a grown-up. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

“Seriously, Lib,” she says, unsuccessfully trying not to smile, “is there anything I can help you with? I’m swamped.”

Picking up my phone, I quickly scroll through my newsfeed. “Nope, I’m—” My words cut short when I notice a breaking news post about the penthouse at City Towers, where Alexis and Bryce live.

“Nope, you’re what?”

I don’t answer, instead reading that there’s been an explosion and one person is reported dead.

“Lib!”

I look up, eyes wide. “Y-You might want to see this. It’s breaking news. I don’t know how true it is, but—”

She snatches the phone, the colour of her skin draining as she reads. “Oh my God!” Her other hand shoots up to cover her mouth. “Oh no! No, no, no.”

Tears pool in her eyes, so I place my hand on her shoulder to keep her composed. “Calm down, honey. Let’s ring Alexis.”

She nods, hands back my phone, then fumbles for her own, her finger trembling as she taps Alexis’s profile in her contacts list.

Pressing the phone to her ear, she impatiently bounces her foot. “She’s not answering. I’ve got to go. I’ve got to go there now.” She shoots up from her seat, grabs her keys, and heads for the door.