Page 19 of Free Fall

“Mm-hmm, and where are they today?”

“Busy.”

“Whatever. You pulled me into this, and now I can’t opt out. I can’t un-know your plans.”

“You could un-care about me.”

Rye lifts a fist and mimes a punch. “I will pop you for real one day, I swear.”

Rye will never pop me. I know that. Which is good because I’ve been at the receiving end of my fair share of fists. I’m not sure how I’d react to another one.

“Dan, could you just ‘un-care’ about me?” Rye asks impatiently.

I ponder the question, and that alone makes Rye huff. “Go,” Rye commands. “Get on up the pitch.”

See? This is why Peggy Jo is the only one who can stand me for very long, and why I might have a few friends, but most aren’t very close. I’m apparently an asshole, and I don’t know how to fix that.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sejin

“Jeanie, that’s perfect,”I say as I watch over my herd of preschool dancers, twirling in the sparkling sunlight. I don’t really have any qualifications for this job, but I do have a lot of self-confidence and zero fear of being told no.

Which explains how I marched into Tater Tots Preschool six months ago armed with my recently-issued ECE Associate Teacher license and said, “Do you have anyone teaching the kids Movement? Because if not, I’m your man.”

Heather Tate, the owner-director of the preschool, had looked me up and down and said, “You’re Martin Sutley’s adopted brother, right?”

“Cousin. But, yes, I’m Sejin Sutley.”

“Right.” She’d given me another long once-over, and then asked, “What did you have in mind?”

I had my phone on me, and I’d cued up some of my favorite songs with easy or cute choreo. I showed her the dances. Most of them were from girl groups, so they were maybe a little feminine, but she didn’t even blink at that.

“What language are they singing in?” she asked instead.

“Korean,” I answered. “It’s KPop.”

“Whatever it is, the dances are cute. The kids will have fun, and if you can teach them a little Korean in the mix…You’reKorean I take it?”

“Kinda? Like in one way yeah, but in most ways no?” I could see I was losing her. “But yeah, sure.”

“Well, if you teach them some Korean along with the dances, I think I can sell it to the parents as a real value-added thing. So how about one dollar per kid per class?”

I’d swallowed, gathered my self-esteem, and asked for what I thought I was worth. Admittedly, it wasn’t that much. “Five?”

“Three,” she’d said, and turned her attention back to the papers on her desk, something very important and ‘director-y’ I was sure.

“Three it is.”

So here I am, six months later, with a small squad of dancers singing along to “Fancy” by Korea’s top girl group, Twice, while nearly nailing the choreo with their chubby little limbs. Well, kinda. Okay, not at all, but it’s so cute I can’t stand it, and I tell them they’re nailing it even when they aren’t.

And Jeanie Erickson is one of the cutest. Her rosy cheeks, shiny eyes, and thick, red curls just kill me. Holland, Griffin, and Tanner all knock my socks off with their enthusiasm too. And Natalie just rocks period with her powerful singing voice. She’s memorized most of the words, even the Korean ones, and she’s a real dynamo with her stage presence.

Jude, though, bless his heart, is just gonna have to accept that he has no rhythm in his soul. But I won’t be the one to tell him. No sirree. No way.

“Mr. Sejin,” Lila calls, panting as the song ends and I’m preparing to launch them into BTS’s “Dynamite,” which also has some very fun disco-themed choreo, plus Michael Jackson-inspired moves the kids love. “Gotta go pee!”

“Ahh!” I cry, pointing toward the door back inside. “Go find Miss Heather if you need help!”