them here and there along the way, he couldn’t help but worry about how this whole collaboration thing was going to work with Laney.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Laney rushed into his classroom, the sour look on her face at odds with the cheery, blue dress with orange polka dots she wore. He really shouldn’t find the dress appealing since those were colors of her alma mater, The University of Florida, and he had gone to an opposing school, The University of Central Florida. But, said dress was on Laney Kavanaugh. That, in itself, changed everything.
Setting her planner, lesson plan binder, and curriculum guide down on the table with a thunk, she slid into the chair across from him, tossing her long, brown hair back over her shoulders. She fixed her hazel eyes on his, lips pursed, a despondent expression on her face.
Opening up her binder to the first lesson plan for the school year, she forged right in. “I usually start them off with a recap of the branches of government,” she began, looking over her plans. “Maybe we can give them examples to help them grasp the concept. For example, we give them titles like teacher, principal, custodian, cafeteria worker, or whatnot and they have to place them in the correct category. We can divide the students into small groups, assign them a scenario such as ‘What if the cafeteria workers want to add something new to their lunch menu? Who do they have to go through to authorize the change?’.”
Laney glanced up, catching him watching her. God, she’s so hot when she goes all ‘smart teacher’ mode on me .
Her gaze narrowed on him suspiciously. “What? Did I speak too fast for your tiny brain to handle? Or maybe I should get some crayons to explain it to you?”
And, just like that, the moment was gone.
* * *
He tossed her a dirty look before gesturing to her lesson plan binder. “If I’m going to go along with this and change my first lesson of the year to align with yours, then I should get to take the lead on the next one.”
“Isn’t it easier to just go over my plans and modify yours to correspond?”
Zach stared at her incredulously. “So I’ll be the one who has to do all the work? Um, let me think about this for a moment.” He paused for a millisecond. “No.” His lips were pressed thin with irritation. Lips that were normally full. The kind of lips you immediately knew would feel soft against your own.
Wait, what? No. No. No . Her brain needed to stop being a damn traitor.
“Well, that would make the most sense, Mayson.” She threw her pen down on the table in exasperation.
“To you, maybe,” he said sarcastically, his voice getting louder. “Because you’re not the one modifying all of your lesson plans!”
Laney threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! We can alternate.” She inhaled deeply, as if trying to calm herself. In a gentler tone, she offered a suggestion. “Why don’t we make copies of our lesson plans for each other, and then we can go over them and make notes on where we could correlate something with the other person’s subject matter?”
Zach stared at her a long moment—so long that she began to think he was going to fight her on this, too—before finally nodding. “I’m cool with that.”
“Great.” She exhaled loudly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she stood from the table. “All right, I’ll go make those copies. Then, I’ll stick them in your box—”
“That’s what she said.”
His response made her eyes go squinty.
“In your mailbox in the teachers’ workroom,” Laney replied through gritted teeth. Without another word, she gathered up her items in her arms and walked to the door of his classroom.
She needed to get out of there before she stabbed him with her pen. In the jugular.
“Later, sunshine,” he called out, just as she reached the doorway.
“Later, douchecanoe,” she mumbled under her breath.
His laughter trailing after her as she returned to her own
“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Laney rushed into his classroom, the sour look on her face at odds with the cheery, blue dress with orange polka dots she wore. He really shouldn’t find the dress appealing since those were colors of her alma mater, The University of Florida, and he had gone to an opposing school, The University of Central Florida. But, said dress was on Laney Kavanaugh. That, in itself, changed everything.
Setting her planner, lesson plan binder, and curriculum guide down on the table with a thunk, she slid into the chair across from him, tossing her long, brown hair back over her shoulders. She fixed her hazel eyes on his, lips pursed, a despondent expression on her face.
Opening up her binder to the first lesson plan for the school year, she forged right in. “I usually start them off with a recap of the branches of government,” she began, looking over her plans. “Maybe we can give them examples to help them grasp the concept. For example, we give them titles like teacher, principal, custodian, cafeteria worker, or whatnot and they have to place them in the correct category. We can divide the students into small groups, assign them a scenario such as ‘What if the cafeteria workers want to add something new to their lunch menu? Who do they have to go through to authorize the change?’.”
Laney glanced up, catching him watching her. God, she’s so hot when she goes all ‘smart teacher’ mode on me .
Her gaze narrowed on him suspiciously. “What? Did I speak too fast for your tiny brain to handle? Or maybe I should get some crayons to explain it to you?”
And, just like that, the moment was gone.
* * *
He tossed her a dirty look before gesturing to her lesson plan binder. “If I’m going to go along with this and change my first lesson of the year to align with yours, then I should get to take the lead on the next one.”
“Isn’t it easier to just go over my plans and modify yours to correspond?”
Zach stared at her incredulously. “So I’ll be the one who has to do all the work? Um, let me think about this for a moment.” He paused for a millisecond. “No.” His lips were pressed thin with irritation. Lips that were normally full. The kind of lips you immediately knew would feel soft against your own.
Wait, what? No. No. No . Her brain needed to stop being a damn traitor.
“Well, that would make the most sense, Mayson.” She threw her pen down on the table in exasperation.
“To you, maybe,” he said sarcastically, his voice getting louder. “Because you’re not the one modifying all of your lesson plans!”
Laney threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! We can alternate.” She inhaled deeply, as if trying to calm herself. In a gentler tone, she offered a suggestion. “Why don’t we make copies of our lesson plans for each other, and then we can go over them and make notes on where we could correlate something with the other person’s subject matter?”
Zach stared at her a long moment—so long that she began to think he was going to fight her on this, too—before finally nodding. “I’m cool with that.”
“Great.” She exhaled loudly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she stood from the table. “All right, I’ll go make those copies. Then, I’ll stick them in your box—”
“That’s what she said.”
His response made her eyes go squinty.
“In your mailbox in the teachers’ workroom,” Laney replied through gritted teeth. Without another word, she gathered up her items in her arms and walked to the door of his classroom.
She needed to get out of there before she stabbed him with her pen. In the jugular.
“Later, sunshine,” he called out, just as she reached the doorway.
“Later, douchecanoe,” she mumbled under her breath.
His laughter trailing after her as she returned to her own
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