Page 29 of Meeting Me, Loving You (Hearts of Maple Lake #1)

CAMERON

Following my daily routine, I dress for the gym, pack clean clothes for school, then drop a few flakes of fish food into Penny’s tank. Ensuring that I have all I need for work, I grab a protein shake, climb into my truck, and head down the mountain.

It’s been a couple weeks since Jules and I had our movie night at her apartment, and during that time, the snow has thawed and spread into the dirt, preparing the earth for new growth.

The days are filled with sunshine and the whistle of birdsong as spring rolls in on the breeze, filling me with a sense of hope and renewal.

Creatures have begun to stir in the forest surrounding my cabin, and little pink blooms have started to sprout on the trees.

In the early hours of the morning, the air smells new and the breeze tastes like opportunities arising with the sun.

The gym isn’t busy, its usual members spaced out between the exercise equipment.

I make my way to the locker room at the back, greeting familiar faces as I pass.

My tired eyes linger on the treadmill where I saw Jules walking that first day I saw her, but she’s not there now.

When I make it to the lockers, I pull out my phone, my thumb hovering over her contact.

We’ve texted a few times, mostly about our tourist plans for this week, but I’m always tempted to text her about unrelated things at the most random times.

I find myself thinking about her at all hours of the day: in the mornings at the gym, on my lunch breaks in the teacher lounge, as I stand at the front of the classroom teaching my students about vectors and trigonometric equations.

She’s in my every thought and every movement, stealing the air from my lungs and making me feel things I’ve never felt before.

I shake my head, dropping the phone into my duffle bag.

I made a deal with myself to not get involved with Jules on a romantic level, and it’s in my best interest to keep to that promise.

But Jules isn’t like your parents , a small voice tells me.

I’ve noticed her looks and small touches, and I don’t think I’m imagining that she’s felt this draw between us too.

She’s the epitome of everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever dreamed of having.

She’s tender and generous, always intent on caring for those around her.

Juliet is far from the little girl I once knew; she’s a woman.

One that I am growing deeply rooted feelings for.

I’m so mixed up by the warring thoughts in my head that tell me to stay away from her, while also telling me I want to know her more, more, more.

I sigh audibly. Grabbing my phone out of the bag, I replace it with all my doubts, shoving them deep inside. I hit the text icon next to Jules’ name.

Hey, I’ve been thinking about our next adventure. Even with the warmer weather, it’s still too cold for you to really enjoy the biking day we had planned. So let’s do something else.

I wait a few seconds before realizing that she’s probably still asleep. I shove my phone into the pocket of my sweats and toss my duffel into a locker. It’s then that I hear a ding , and I quickly grab my phone and check the screen.

Jules

Yeah, you’re probably right. What did you have in mind?

A smile spreads across my face, reaching my eyes and my heart, like a rapidly creeping plant clinging to every inch of space that it touches. I type out a quick reply, hitting send.

I thought I’d give you some options and let you pick.

Jules

Okay, hit me with them.

I know you like lists, so here you go. Option 1: visit the arcade. Option 2: get out of town and hit up Sansville. Option 3: get a tattoo.

I know she’ll never go for the third option, but I enjoy throwing her curveballs and potentially getting a little glimpse of her witty attitude in her response.

Jules

Those are all vastly different. And Maple Lake doesn’t have an arcade.

Hm, that’s not the first point I thought she would tackle. I was certain she’d freak out about me mentioning a tattoo.

Yeah, we’ll have to go to Sansville for that one.

Jules

And Maple Lake doesn’t have a tattoo shop either (not that I’ll be getting one).

There it is. I smile and take a seat on the bench next to the lockers, the morning’s workout already forgotten.

Right. So, Sansville it is.

Jules

You did that on purpose, didn’t you?

Did what?

Jules

Made all the options lead to Sansville so we’d have to go there.

Maybe. *winky face emoji*

Since when do I use emojis?

Jules

*Rolling eyes emoji* Well I won’t be getting a tattoo, but going to Sansville does sound nice. Even though the hospital is there, I never go just to enjoy myself. I could use a day away. When were you thinking of going?

I experience instant relief as I read Jules’ text agreeing to drive to Sansville with me.

It’s not technically a tourist attraction, but most of the people who visit Maple Lake for more than a couple days will spend a day in Sansville as well, enjoying the hustle and bustle of a more populated town nearby.

It’s where we all have to go if we want to watch a movie in the theater, which is where the arcade is housed, or eat a fancy meal in a more upscale restaurant.

It’s also where Maple Lake residents go to get medical attention since we don’t even have an urgent care center.

This Saturday? You can bring your notes. I’ll help you study on the drive.

Jules

Doesn’t that go against the “no studying on our field trips” rule?

Technically this isn’t on the list. It’s an extracurricular activity since we’re not biking as planned.

Jules

AKA a loophole. Nicely done. Is this your way of spending more time with me, Mr. Dunne?

I pause, debating on what to say to her blatantly flirtatious message. My mind races as I envision her warm brown eyes, her gentle pink lips.

Don’t give her the means to hurt you.

I rub my chin, my beard rough against my calloused hands, worn from years of gym training and outdoor activities.

Within a second, I write my answer and hit send.

Then I stand and leave the locker room, heading for the nearest bench where I can work out the tangled vine of conflicting emotions that threatens to crush me.

Maybe.

“Well, there you are!” says a sing-songy voice behind me.

I’ve been erasing the examples of polynomials from the whiteboard when I turn around to see Mrs. Simons entering my classroom.

Her hair is loose and static-y today, and she’s wearing a long black and white skirt resembling piano keys.

Her blouse has a red floral print that doesn’t at all match the lower half of her outfit.

“I just finished my last class. Were you looking for me?” I ask as I begin straightening the desks throughout the room. Some are already tidy, thanks to a few of my students, while the remaining desks have been jostled during the kids’ wild escape from Algebra 2.

“I wanted to see how things are going with a certain nurse we all know and love,” she looks at me expectantly, a warm, almost motherly smile on her face as she helps me by picking up a few stray papers from the floor. She hands them to me, and I shuffle through them before walking them to my desk .

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Simons. We’ve been spending a little time together, experiencing the tourist side of Maple Lake… but I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?” I smirk.

“Ooh,” she says casually, following me to the front of the room.

“I might have heard something about that list of yours. And I think it’s a genius idea.

That’s sure to distract her from her work a little.

She needs all the fun she can get these days, the poor thing.

” Although Mrs. Simons lives in Pennsylvania, she has a slight Southern accent, courtesy of her love for the Deep South.

She often uses her summer breaks to visit her daughter in Alabama, spending months there at a time.

From what she’s told me, she used to spend summers there with her grandparents when she was young as well.

Grabbing my backpack, I fill it with my laptop and textbooks, as well as the students’ quizzes I need to grade tonight.

“It’s been good for both of us.” I swing the bag onto my back, hands resting on the shoulder straps. Mrs. Simons tilts her head at me. “What?” I ask.

“Cameron…” she lays her chilly hand on my forearm, her nails painted a shade of red that matches her blouse.

The wrinkles on her hands are proof of how much she’s aged since I was a student of hers.

“We all love you here. You’re family to us in this town, and you bring so much joy to all these children.

We’re lucky to have you be a part of our community.

I know you are doing these tourist activities for Juliet, to make her happy, but,” her voice falters as her grey eyes become all the more gentle, “just remember, you also deserve to find your own happiness.”

In my heart of hearts, I know this to be true.

But I’ve only ever experienced disappointment.

I’m programmed to find fault in everything and everyone, my parents having burned into me the belief that I would never be good enough if I didn’t follow their exact plans for my life.

I’ve been a disappointment to them time and time again, while they’ve left me feeling hollow in return.

I swallow and push my feelings away with a sigh.

“Thank you, Mrs. Simons.”

“Francine.”

I chuckle lightly, amused by her determination that I call her by her first name.

“Sorry, habit,” I say. “I appreciate your words, Francine.”

Francine releases my arm and heads for the door. “Have a good night, Cameron.” She pauses at the threshold, making me stop abruptly before I bump into her. “And… be good to her.” She gives me a smile and waves over her shoulder as she leaves the room.

My stomach churns as I remember the town gossipers.

During our first walk around the lake, Paula had also told me to be gentle with Juliet.

I didn’t realize then how serious she was, but it’s clear to me now that this town is very protective of Jules.

I’m relieved she grew up here with people like this.

However, with that feeling, comes dread.

If I royally mess this up, whatever this is, I’ll have the whole town to deal with.

The hallway is quiet, all the children having already left for home.

I look back over my room. The whiteboard is clean, chairs are tightly tucked under desks, and the floor is free of litter.

My desk holds a cup of pencils and red pens, and a metal wire basket for tomorrow’s homework collection sits beside it.

The classroom is empty and prepared for another day of learning, waiting for the door to once again usher in joyous smiles and fresh laughter as my students will begin a new day.

With one more glance over the room, I turn off the lights, blanketing the space in darkness, and shut the door.