Zoe collapsed into the seat next to me and let out a long sigh, as though being here and not in front of a bad movie with a glass of wine was paining her to her core.

“Has it been that bad already?” I teased, and she held her hand up as though to indicate to me that I had no idea how rough things had been that day.

“I had to deal with two kids freaking sword fighting with crayons this morning,” she told me, pulling out her lunchbox. I eyed her carefully packed salad and fruit and wondered if I should make more of an effort to eat like a real grown adult instead of a kid with access to a credit card.

“So? That’s not too bad,” I protested, and she shook her head.

“And then they tried to hide the crayons up their noses when I went to take them away,” she finished up, and I spluttered with laughter.

“Okay, that’s a new one,” I agreed, taking a sip of my water. The two of us were sitting at the staff lunch table, keeping an eye on the kids around us as they ate and chatted and probably plotted against us.

“Yep, new one on me too,” she agreed. She shook her head and glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “I was tempted to let them go for it, though. That would teach them, right?”

“Zoe!” I scolded her playfully. “I’m going to have to put you in time-out if you don’t start behaving yourself.”

“Oh, please do.” She nodded at me. “I could use the break. How long till the end of the day again?”

“Come on, don’t talk shit,” I protested. “I love these kids. You know that. I can’t sit here while you say things like that.”

“And yet you’re the one saying ‘shit’ in front of a room full of ten-year-olds.” She cocked her head at me, and I laughed.

“All right, point taken,” I conceded. I took a bite of my sandwich and covered my mouth as I continued to talk. “You doing okay? Outside the crayon hiding, I mean?”

“Yeah, I’m doing good. Wish I could afford to take a little time off, but no rest for the wicked, right?”

“Guess not,” I agreed. I should probably have been craving a holiday as well, but I loved my job so much. I had been teaching elementary for two years now, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. It might have sounded ridiculous to anyone else, but the thought of spending the rest of my life helping raise the next generation of kids… well, I could hardly think of anything better in the world than that.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Zoe asked. The two of us had met during teacher training, but we had grown close when we had been placed in the same school and both wound up working there full time. She was exactly what I needed, the snarky, whip-smart other side to my ditz and occasional dorkiness.

“Uh, is cleaning out my bathroom cabinets an acceptable weekend activity?” I asked, wincing.

“Only if you do it drunk,” Zoe replied, and I laughed again.

“All right, so, I’ll bribe you with rosé and you can come around and do it for me?” I shot back. She rolled her eyes at me in that fond way she had.

“You really should be hitting the dating scene,” she told me. “You’re a total catch!”

“Yeah, I don’t think elementary school teacher exactly oozes sex appeal,” I said, but she waved her hand.

“Trust me, you’re a woman. For some guys, anything you do will ooze sex appeal,” she assured me.

“So, what, have you got someone in mind?” I asked her, curious. I wasn’t exactly super keen to get out there and date. I had been so focused on getting my job off the ground when I had first started here that I had pretty much forgotten what it was like to go out on actual dates with someone, wearing actual pants after six in the evening when I came home and slipped into sweats or underwear for the rest of the evening. What must that be like?

“Hmm.” Zoe tapped her finger against her lip for a moment and eyed me, as though trying to match me up with someone in her head. “I’m not certain. Maybe you could get on some dating apps, see what’s out there?”

“I don’t think I have time for that.” I shook my head.

“Or you’re just looking for a reason to keep from having an actual dating life.” She could see right through me. I raised my eyebrows at her.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me,” I agreed. “Just the thought of actually going out in the evening is making me tired. I’d rather stay at home and get ahead on my grading, thanks.”

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” she shot back. “How about if I set you up with someone? Blind date. Then all you have to do is turn up at the restaurant and meet him. You won’t have to do any of the organizing.”

“As long as you pick a place where I don’t have to wear heels,” I warned her. “Or makeup. Or a dress. Or—”

“So what you’re saying is you want some guy who’s going to eat on your couch with you?” she finished up for me.

“Yeah, actually.” I cocked my head at her playfully. “That would be amazing. In fact, get him to drop off the food and go. That works for me.”

“You want me to order takeout for you.” She pointed at me, grinning. “That’s what you’re asking for right there.”

“Well, you offered,” I reminded her, and she shook her head.

“Autumn, there is no winning with you sometimes,” she sighed, and she started in on her salad. “How’s the rest of your day been?”

We were chatting away when I found my gaze drawn to a kid sitting behind us at a table by himself. He was one of the younger ones in my class, and he looked it—smaller than the rest of the kids, spindly like he might break if you spoke to him too loudly. I frowned in his direction, even as I tried to tune in to the conversation with Zoe. He had a mop of dark brown hair and beautiful eyes.

“Hey, I have to go get my lesson set up for next period.” Zoe glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’ll catch you later, though?”

“Sure thing.” I nodded.

“And I’m totally setting you up on that date,” Zoe reminded me. “Don’t think you’re getting out of it that easily.”

“I never think I’m getting out of anything easily with you,” I assured her, and she patted me on the shoulder and vanished to her classroom. I got to my feet and went to join the little boy who was sitting all by himself in that cafeteria.

I had always had a soft spot for the kids who were clearly out of place. Maybe that was why I had gotten into this job in the first place, because I wanted to give those children a sense of place, of home, where they might not have had it before. I had known since I was a kid that I wanted to do this job, and now that I was finally here, I wasn’t going to watch some little boy sitting all by himself and not do a single thing to help him.

He looked up at me as I sat down beside him with my lunch. He had a slightly wary expression on his face, as though he was worried he was going to do or say something that would annoy or upset me.

“Hello.” I smiled at him. “How’re you doing, Hunter?”

“Good.” He turned his attention back down to his lunch—sandwiches with the crusts cut off and some chopped apple from a parent who was still clearly hoping to get some vitamins in him. He was at that funny age where they started declaring their independence in silly fashions, refusing food and certain clothes when they felt like it. It was a difficult age for the ones who didn’t already have an established friend group, especially as kids started to form their own little cliques It was easy for one of them to get left behind if a concentrated effort wasn’t being made to be sure they didn’t.

“Cool.” I nodded, and I took another bite of my lunch. “What have you been doing today?”

“Uh, mostly math.” He pulled a face, and I pulled one back.

“You don’t like math?”

He shook his head.

“No,” he said, and then he fell silent once more. I spent the rest of the lunch hour coaxing some conversation out of him, making sure he had someone to talk to while he ate. I had been a bit of a loner when I was at school, and I had longed for someone to come and take away the specific torture of sitting alone hoping against hope that someone would come put you out of your lonely misery.

I didn’t know who his parents were, which was weird. He had been in my classes for a couple of years now, since I’d started at Portland South Elementary, yet I couldn’t remember meeting his mom or his dad in all that time. Which was pretty unusual. Portland fostered a lot of helicopter parents who wanted to be involved in every part of their kids’ lives, and that meant sometimes you were deflecting a few emails every week from the same over concerned parental figures attempting to delve into what their kid was getting up to when they weren’t around.

But I couldn’t even remember the names of Hunter’s parents. I would have to check that out later because I was pretty sure I needed to reach out to them. He was a sweet kid. He really was, but I had the feeling he might need a little guidance when it came to finding his place socially in this school, especially as the kids around him started to grow up. I didn’t want any of the kids I taught to get left behind if I could avoid it.

“Thanks for eating with me.” He smiled at me shyly as he finished up his food. I smiled back. I felt a little sad for him. His manners were impeccable, but that wasn’t the kind of thing that impressed the others his own age.

“Any time,” I replied.

“See you in class,” he told me, his little face so serious and earnest that I wanted to ruffle his hair and tell him it was all right to lighten up and goof around if he was so inclined. I smiled again and watched as he headed away from the table. I made a promise to myself right there and then to reach out to his parents to let them know we should start working together to make sure their son was having the best experience he could. As long as I was working here, I was going to make sure every kid these parents trusted me with got the best experience they possibly could. Especially that serious little boy who looked as though he was doing his best to keep something—maybe everything—all to himself.