Pop Quizzes and Stolen Kisses

By M. Jayne LaDow

Chapter 1

Rachel

What should a teacher do when forced to co-teach with an ex-fling?

a) Start a new Pinterest board for lesson plans.

b) Pretend he doesn’t exist.

c) Confront her feelings head-on.

d) Start Googling “how to make someone fall in love again.”

“Oh my God, hi Rachel!” Val jumped from her seat in Egglectic, and swept me into a hug. Her arms tugged me close, and the scent of her perfume, a dizzying mix of coconut and citrus, swamped my senses.

“It’s great to see you, Val.” I managed to say into her wavy dark hair. Thunking her on the back once, I shrugged out of her hug and retreated from her aroma zone, skirting around Val to Audrey.

She’d risen much more slowly, her pregnant belly like a hard basketball between as we hugged. The subtle smell of baby powder and fresh soap soothed me as much as her hug.

“Hi, Audrey,” I said, taking the seat next to her.

The charming breakfast-and-lunch café buzzed with life. Forks clinked against plates, bursts of laughter floated from nearby tables, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet aroma of pancakes. Blocking out the symphony of distractions, I inhaled deeply and fixed my gaze on the sprawling mural behind Val. Its whimsical scene of rainbow-colored chickens strutting through a vibrant farmyard seemed alive with dazzling hues.

It had been months since I’d last seen either woman.

After the school year ended in June, all the teachers dispersed in different directions. I’d spent the summer back in Salisbury, Maryland helping my mom. She’d traded the clamor of the shipyard—where she’d spent years as a welder—for her new passion. She now sculpted intricate metal statues of fairies and goblins, each piece glinting with a touch of magic. Her work had grown so popular that she’d recently opened her own gallery, a space brimming with her enchanting creations.

Sitting next to Audrey, I smiled at my friends.

My friends.

I glanced at Val and Audrey, feeling a small, familiar pang of gratitude. I’d never had many friends, not the kind who stuck around once they got to know the real me. Last year, these two had taken me under their wings, inviting me into their tight-knit circle. At first, I kept waiting for them to figure out I was a little too weird and back away slowly. But they didn’t. They just kept showing up until one day I realized they weren’t waiting for me to change. They’d accepted me exactly as I was.

“How are you guys?” I asked, looking from Audrey’s sun-kissed face dotted with freckles to Val’s olive one.

“Okay.” Audrey rubbed her hand over her belly. “The baby’s not due until November, but I’m already so uncomfortable, I’m not sure I’ll make it.”

Concern tightened in my chest, coiling like a knot I couldn’t untangle. She joked about dying, but my mind raced with the possibilities: hemorrhage, eclampsia, infection—each one a shadow looming too close for comfort.

“Stop being dramatic, Aud.” Val rolled her eyes. “You’re fine.”

Audrey frowned. “Just wait until you get pregnant. I’ll spare you no pity.”

I cleared my throat, “But the doctor says you’re well?”

“Fit as a fiddle even though I can’t see my feet anymore, and my ankles swell at night.” Despite her complaints, her smile lit up the room. “I’m fantastic.”

Turning to Val, I said, “How are you?”

“Great. I moved in with Evan when my lease ran out in July, so we spent the first three weeks of August naked in bed.”

Audrey cackled. “Oz hardly lets me out of bed either. Not that I’m complaining, but this is the first time I’ve been out of the house in weeks.”

I searched their faces, half-expecting a hint of sarcasm, but all I found was an unmistakable glow of happiness. Maybe I should be glad things with Keith fizzled out when school ended. After all, who really wanted to spend weeks cooped up at home during summer break?

My neck stiffened as tension coiled at its base, and I dropped my gaze to the shiny, plastic-coated menu resting in front of me. The small, colorful text spilled across both sides, listing every imaginable variation of pancakes, French toast, and eggs cooked to perfection. It was a miasma of confusion.

Resigning myself to getting my usual, I squinted up at the egg-shaped chandelier hovering over our table. Its blinding glow turned our cozy corner into something out of an interrogation room. Shielding my eyes from the glare, I dropped my gaze back to the menu, only for the light to refract off the glossy surface, piercing my corneas like a laser.

Fumbling in my purse, I finally found the purple case and pulled out my flower-rimmed light-sensitivity glasses. Sliding them on, I sighed, momentarily relieved. At least now I could see without feeling like I was under a spotlight.

Val propped her hands under her chin. “What about you, Rach? Meet any men? Do anything naughty?”

“There was a– a guy who worked at my mom’s gallery,” I stammered. Rich was fifteen years older than me and flirted with anything in a skirt.

“Ooo, go on,” Audrey prompted when I stopped there.

I wasn’t sure how to tell them the story. That Rich had followed me into the storeroom with a grin that bordered on predatory, teasing me about my skirt being shorter than usual.

"Rachel, darling, did you wear that sexy dress just for me?"

Clueless, I’d blinked and glanced down at my swing dress, which I’d chosen because it had pockets, not because I was trying to seduce anyone. But before I could respond, Rich had reached out and traced a finger down my jawline in what he probably thought was a suave move.

Panic had surged through me, and I jumped back—straight into my mom’s collection of Fae warrior statues. The metallic figures, towering and absurdly endowed, toppled like a bad chain reaction, crashing to the floor in a deafening symphony of destruction. I froze, mortified by the chaos I had just unleashed, my ears ringing from the noise.

By the time Mom found me, crouched in the wreckage with my hands over my ears, Rich had sprinted for the door, muttering something about needing fresh air. Mom didn’t ask what happened—she just sighed, surveying the scene of Fae warriors with their exaggerated anatomies on display. No words were needed.

“Did you flirt?” Val wiggled her eyebrows as if saying there was more to the story.

I shrugged. “That’s not usually how my relationships go.”

Most men were drawn to my blonde hair and fair skin, but the spark always fizzled once they realized I was different. They’d lose interest, shifting their attention to women who were easier to understand—more neurotypical, less complicated. I’d come to expect it.

But not Keith. He embraced my quirks, reveled in my eccentricities, and never made me feel like too much. He had this way of looking at me, of focusing so completely that it felt like I was the only person in his world. With him, I wasn’t an anomaly—I was something to be cherished.

Until the day I realized I wasn’t special to him at all. I was just one of many, many women. And then he broke my heart, shattering it with the kind of casual ease that made it painfully clear—I’d been wrong about everything.

“We can fix that,” Audrey smiled sympathetically. “Val and I know lots of single guys.”

“We do?” Val asked.

“What can I get you, Ladies?” Diane, Eggletic’s owner, took that moment to approach the table.

She nodded to me to start. “I’ll have the omelet.”

Diane’s warm smile never wavered as she nodded and asked, “Two egg whites with cheddar cheese, two slices of bacon, and wheat toast on the side?”

The first time I’d ordered here, Diane had noticed my struggle, slid into the seat beside me, and gently walked me through all the options, her patience endless. Now, she remembered my order by heart, as if it were her personal mission to make me feel seen and cared for.

I returned her kindness with a grateful smile and nodded. “Thanks, Diane.”

After the others ordered, I changed the subject. “Have either of you seen your schedules yet?”

Val chose not to push. “I’m teaching four blocks of civics, but the curriculum’s changed for the third time in two years.”

“I hate that.” Audrey nodded. “Teaching to the state tests sounds easy, but they make it so hard.”

“Not to mention taking away all creativity,” Val added.

“I’m teaching all advanced sixth-grade classes this year,” Audrey said. “The administration wanted to keep it simple for the long-term substitute while I’m out on maternity leave.”

I took a sip of my water. “That explains why I have all the sixth-grade core classes, Sped, ELL, and most of the 504s.”

“Oh,” Audrey reached out to pat my shoulder. “I didn’t think about that! You’re going to have your hands full.”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll have help.”

Audrey continued to look worried. “Do you know who your inclusion teacher will be?”

“I haven’t heard.”

Val’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Tina Keller’s great.”

Tina—a tall Black woman with an infectious laugh and boundless energy—was the perfect co-teacher. We had similar teaching styles, and her dedication to her work was unmatched.

“It could also be Riley Buchard,” Audrey offered.

An older, seasoned special education teacher, Riley’s no-nonsense demeanor often clashed with the students. Her sharp tone and unyielding rules made it hard to imagine her genuinely enjoying the work. I couldn’t help but wonder why she stayed in the classroom when her attitude suggested she didn’t like the kids at all.

Before I could respond, Val said, “Or it could be Keith.”

No.

No.

No, no, no, no.

Keith and I had co-taught one English class together last year. He was a natural with the kids, helping them push past their limits and reach their potential. I’d loved working with him. His energy, passion, and way of connecting with every student had been part of the reason I liked him so much.

But I couldn’t teach four blocks with him! All day, every day. No, it was impossible. Not after everything that had happened last year. Not after how it all ended.

Flustered, my skin felt hot and tight, a strange prickling sensation running across my arms. Was I breaking out in hives? I’d take grouchy Riley or anyone else at this point. Keith was too loud, too distracting, too... in my face.

Too sexy.

The uninvited image of him sleeping in my bed flashed into my mind. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow over his wavy brown hair and beard, turning them into strands of gold. His thick eyelashes brushed against his angular face, his skin a perfect, sun-kissed golden hue.

Heat rushed to my face, and I could feel the flush creeping up my neck. With my pale skin, I wore my embarrassment like a flag—proud, bright, and unmistakable.

“Keith would be fun to teach with,” Audrey said, her eyes catching the flush on my face but wisely not commenting on it.

Both of these women had crossed that invisible line between co-worker and more by falling in love with teachers in the same school. After a few growing pains and awkward moments, it had worked out for them.

But Keith and I? We had imploded after only a few weeks.

And my friends knew nothing. It had all happened so fast. Keith went from friend to lover to betrayer in the blink of an eye. One minute, I was floating on air, the next, I was running home to lick my wounds, unsure how I’d gone from one extreme to the other so quickly.

“But Keith teaches the self-contained students,” Val pointed out. “Mr. Kline wouldn’t reassign him.”

“You’re probably right,” Audrey nodded. “Did you hear he bought a house this summer?”

Shock rolled through me, the kind that settled like a stone in my stomach. Keith had traded in his bachelor pad for a house?

“It’s just down the street from us,” Val added, her tone casual. “Evan helped him with some of the repairs it needed this summer.”

Keith bought a house? My stomach twisted. He loved his apartment—the first place he’d ever lived alone, his own private sanctuary. A bachelor pad through and through, with mismatched furniture, a worn leather couch that probably had a permanent dent where he collapsed after long days, and a coffee table perpetually cluttered with empty beer bottles and takeout boxes. It had suited him.

I could still picture him there, lounging in the dim glow of his TV, surrounded by the women he once swore didn’t matter to him anymore. We’d always gone to my apartment, where things felt less temporary, less tawdry. But now… now he was settling down? My throat tightened. What had changed? And why did it feel like a shift I wasn’t ready to acknowledge?

I glanced up to find both women watching me, waiting for my reaction. I forced a nod. “That’s interesting.” Hopefully, that was enough.

It wasn’t. Both women exchanged a glance, and that familiar sense of otherness settled over me. I didn’t fit in. I saw the world differently—like I was navigating a maze where everyone else had the map.

As a teacher, I understood my students’ struggles with the material, but their challenges with friendship, flirting, and casual conversation? Those were as much a mystery to me as my own. I was good at my job, but belonging—truly feeling like part of the community—remained just out of reach.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out automatically. Apologizing usually softened people’s reactions to my ASD, made things easier.

“Rachel…” Val’s voice was gentle as she covered my hand with hers. “You don’t have to be sorry. Just say what you mean.”

I swallowed hard. “I guess… I just think it’s interesting that Keith would give up his lady-killer apartment for a fixer-upper, that’s all.”

Heat crept up my face, my chest tightening as I leaned back in my chair. Talking was hard sometimes.

“It took me by surprise too,” Val said. “But he’s thirty-nine. Maybe he’s ready to settle down.”

I laughed bitterly and regretted it immediately. Both Audrey and Val’s narrowed eyes studied my face, trying to ferret out information.

“Wait a minute…” Val glanced between me and Audrey. My eyes rounded in horror. Had they figured out my secret?

“Did you and Keith…” Audrey started.

“Play hide the sausage last year?” Val finished.

I shook my head vigorously.

Audrey clapped. “You did. You did the deed of darkness with Keith.”

My cheeks were hot, but I snorted. “No.”

“Tell us,” Val insisted.

“Nothing happened.” Only two hookups, a catastrophic argument, and a broken heart.

“I’m not buying it.” Audrey giggled.

They were never going to let it go. And worse, they’d go home and talk to Oz and Evan. Small towns and small schools sucked sometimes.

“Okay fine.” I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Keith and I paired up a few times last year.”

“Paired up?” Audrey asked as Val whisper-shouted, “You took the hot dog truck to Taco Town with Keith!”

“Shhh,” I said, looking around the restaurant. The nearest diners were several tables away but looked over at Val’s squeal.

Val clapped. “I knew it.”

Audrey narrowed her eyes. “You mean I knew it. I told you last year–”

“But you didn’t know for sure,” Val argued.

“Neither did you until now.” Audrey playfully chastised Val and then turned to me, her smile sweetening. “Give us the deets, Rach.”

I inhaled, trying to settle my nerves. I hated being the center of attention. On top of that, I’d never had deets to dish before.

I released the air from my lungs and inhaled again. Where should I start? The Winter Carnival, when Keith first noticed me? The little jokes he whispered in my ear, meant to relax me during awkward social situations? Or the first time he held my hand under the table in this very restaurant last winter?

I took a deep breath and then another. My mind drifted in and out with the rhythm of the air, each inhale bringing a small moment of clarity. It was a technique I’d learned in therapy, and I was grateful for it now more than ever.

Diane dropped off our orders, and I continued to breathe, letting the world swirl around me while I stayed rooted in the moment.

Val and Audrey began to eat, wordlessly giving me the space I needed to gather myself. The smell of my omelet wafted up, its savory warmth tugging at my stomach, which growled loudly even as butterflies fluttered nervously in my chest.

“The first time was last spring at Polar Vortex during the open house party. Keith and I slipped out of the main room and did it in the janitor’s closet and went back to my apartment after.”

Val’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide with surprise. Audrey coughed, then coughed some more, her face scrunching in that panicked way people do when they're choking on something they weren't expecting. I instinctively reached over, thumping her back with more force than necessary, while Val pushed a glass of water closer, her hands shaking just a little.

Audrey’s face turned bright red, but after a few sips of water, she managed to catch her breath.

The two of them stared at me, their expressions a mix of confusion and curiosity. Normally, I’d feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. I’d get anxious, my heart racing in my chest, my mind spinning with ways to excuse myself. I might have run out of the restaurant, or I would’ve clammed up, shutting down and retreating into the safety of silence.

But today, for some reason, I did something outside my wheelhouse.

I laughed.