Grit: A Spartan Riders Novel - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

First day jitters. They weren’t reserved just for the kids.

Gabby Morgan stood just inside the doorway to the classroom, a large smile plastered across her heart-shaped face as she greeted parents and their children.

The first day of kindergarten. Her first year teaching.

Ever.

She’d been on top of the world when she’d finally finished her degree—nearly a year ago—but now she just felt sick. Somewhere between the parking lot and the moment the doors opened, she’d lost her edge.

And she couldn’t lose her edge.

Kindergarteners were a breed unlike any other. They could smell fear.

Or so she’d been told.

Hell, maybe she should have just kept her expectations low and taken the management position at the diner when she had the chance. But that was a death sentence all its own, and Lord knew she already had one too many of those hanging over her head.

A thirty-two-year-old woman living in her parents’ basement wasn’t what she’d dreamed of becoming. But circumstances dictated that particular necessity and she couldn’t really complain. At least she had a roof over her head.

Besides, she couldn’t take another day working on her feet for eight hours straight. Just thinking about it sent phantom bolts of pain shooting down her spine. Reflexively, she reached back and rubbed her tailbone, her fingers finding the raised scar with practiced precision.

One day of hell. Months of recovery. Countless hours looking over her shoulder. Every dream she’d ever had, flushed down the drain.

Goals. She needed to keep hers in mind because no way in hell was she going to spend the rest of her life working a dead-end job and sleeping in a mildewed, spider-infested basement in order to save on rent and utilities. It was high time she put down some roots. A person couldn’t hide forever, right?

Teaching had always been her dream job, but due to circumstances out of her control, that’s all it’d been. Until now. Now it could very well be her salvation. Stability. A source of security in a world where something so seemingly simple was hard to come by. One thing she would never be again was helpless.

Gabby looked around, taking in the pleasant sky-blue walls, brightly-colored posters, and orderly shelves and thought, yes, she was in a good place in her life. Finally, she was going to look toward the future, put down roots. She was going to have a good life if it killed her.

And if her past caught up with her, it very well might.

But she couldn’t dwell on what-ifs. She had a classroom to prepare.

Before she knew it, Gabby was surrounded by children, directing them this way and that, handing out tissues, ensuring parents they’d be in good hands. Once the final bell had rung and the last child was through the door, she turned to her class and took a moment to observe the chaos.

Twenty-two six-year-olds raced back and forth, weaving their way through the group-style tables, knocking into the mini-chairs as they played tag or tore apart what was, just an hour ago, a well-organized play area.

It took her almost a week to get everything just the way she wanted it.

She sighed deeply, wondering just what she’d gotten herself into this time, yet at the same time, she couldn’t help from smiling because they embodied everything she’d ever wanted for herself—excitement, contentedness, zest for life, and a happiness that was ingrained into every moment they experienced.

Children were everything light and good in the world.

That’s how she knew she was going to be all right. Teaching almost two dozen kindergarteners wasn’t going to be a cake walk—not by any stretch of the imagination—but it was going to be the best and smartest choice she’d ever made for herself.

Clapping her hands together, she attempted to call the room to order. When she saw that only a select few took notice of her command, she brought her fingers to her lips and let loose a loud whistle that brought every single little body to an instant standstill.

Eyes wide, mouths agape, they stared at her in shocked awe.

“Cool!” a couple of the boys praised.

Girls giggled.

Several made failed attempts.

Gabby fought a smile.

“Okay, boys and girls, let’s find a seat.”

A fresh wave of chaos erupted as they scrambled to follow orders. Several minutes later, Gabby introduced herself then proceeded taking attendance. Sharp, high-pitched child voices took turns shouting “Here!” until she reached the last on the list.

“Ash Mahone?” When there was no answer, Gabby frowned and scanned the room, repeating, “Ash Mahone?” a little louder.

When she spotted the only empty chair in the room, her frown deepened. Who missed their first day of school? Just because it was a half-day didn’t mean it didn’t count. With a shake of her head, she marked him absent and moved on with the morning.

***

“Very nice,” Gabby praised a little girl with wild, strawberry-blonde hair. “Your mom is going to love it.”

“I’m gonna put it on the ‘frigerator,” she said proudly.

Patting her on the shoulder, Gabby moved on to appraise more pictures. It was an easy morning. Instead of jumping right in, she wanted to focus on getting the kids settled into a routine that was otherwise, for most, something new and scary. Once they’d tagged their seats and cubbies with their names and established the house rules—Respect, Responsibility, and Readiness—she’d decided to give them all a break and passed out some coloring pages. It was her idea of an icebreaker. Not only did it allow everyone to socialize easier, but it enabled her to get a sense of where they were at in their development, how they were with rules, et cetera.

She was knelt down between two students, giving them tips on how to color within the lines, when the door to the room swung open.

Her head popped up to see a boy, who she assumed to be her missing student, Ash. Immediately, he struck her as much older than his peers. Not in age, but appearance. There was a hardness in his eyes—dark, stormy eyes set into a round, cherubic face with a smudge of what looked to be grease on his right cheek. His hair, a fair wheat-blond color, was wild and unkempt, as if it had never met a brush, and his clothes were shabby—tattered blue jeans with one knee torn out, an orange t-shirt with a breast pocket that was ripped at the corner and what looked like moth holes down by the hem. His shoes, though, were brand new, heavy black boots with thick soles that reached up around his ankles.

Everything about him screamed trouble.

With not much more than a glance at her, he trudged across the room, past the rows of tables, and looped his book bag on a hook in the last available cubby as if he’d done it a hundred times. Then he surveyed the room again, located the only remaining empty chair, and took it without so much as a peep.

Aside from a cursory glance, the other students paid him no mind, but Gabby wasn’t about to turn a blind eye. She was of the mind that a child’s future was shaped by his childhood, and if this kid was already on the wrong track, what did that say about the rest of his life?

“Mr. Mahone,” she said sternly as she pushed to her feet and caught his eye, “meet me at my desk please.”

With quiet confidence, he strode to the front of the room and looked her straight in the eyes when she spoke.

“Do you have a reason for being late?”

“My dad was taking care of some business,” he said in such a straightforward manner that Gabby was stunned. What kind of kid his age spoke like that?

“Business? What kind of business?”

“That’s not really your business. Ma’am,” he tacked on.

She should have been upset, but he spoke without an ounce of attitude. No, he was just blunt…and insanely mature for his age. It struck Gabby that of all the students in the room, this one was the one she’d have to keep a close eye on. For a brief moment, they stared each other down, though not with contempt. More like they were trying to figure each other out. Or more like, she was trying to figure him out. Ash just looked as if he was bored and wanted nothing more than to return to his seat.

Drawing in a deep breath, Gabby reminded herself that she was in charge here. She also reminded herself that she was speaking to a six-year-old. Snapping a tissue from the box on her desk, she extended it out to him. “Well, Ash, since this is the first day of school, I’ll let it slide. But school is for learning, so I expect you to be here on time from now on. Deal?”

Scrubbing the smudge from his cheek, he nodded once, sharply. “Deal.” Then, without waiting to be dismissed, he returned to his seat and opened a fresh packet of crayons.