Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Instead, Winnie lifts her head with a huff, her enormous brown eyes narrowing in reproach, and lets out an exaggerated yawn as if she'd been waiting for an eternity rather than just a few extra minutes.
“Miss me, Winnie?” I venture, reaching down to scoop her up. She meets my touch with a graceful, albeit disgruntled, recoil. I smother her with a few tender kisses, but her response is a dramatic blend of a sigh and a dismissive twitch of her tail as she abandons my lap and settles at the far end of the couch. I roll my eyes at her dramatics.
The apartment feels cozily cluttered this evening. A soft kitchen lamp casts a gentle glow over a small dining table buried under a pile of grocery receipts and stray produce bags. It’s hardly the masterpiece of organization, but every offbeat corner is mine, including the enormous TV that dares me to escape into a world where mishaps resolve neatly into happy endings.
“I’ll get dinner ready,” I announce with a hint of apology tugging at my voice. Winnie’s eyes flick over to me, her expression questioning yet unmoved as she lets her ears droop in unimpressed silence.
I head into the kitchen, determined to make up for the evening's delay. First, I pour Winnie's dog food into her bowl, adding a few blueberries as a small apology for her late dinner. With that done, I quickly gather the ingredients for our human dinner. The clack of the knife is almost a metronome to my thoughts, which, despite the task at hand, drift to Ian. I’m not sure how it happened, but the hot fireman has wormed his way into my heart and mind.
Winnie eats slowly, a quiet protest in each measured bite to remind me that punctuality, even in small matters like her supper, matters. Meanwhile, I prepare a quick meal for Eloise and myself, hoping to do anything to occupy my mind.
After we clear the table and Eloise heads off to shower, I retreat to the study nook cluttered with papers and lesson plans. I settle into a chair and pick up my pen, ready to grade yet another stack of assignments.
But as I scribble corrections and comments, Ian’s image reasserts itself in my mind, persistent and unresolved. His smile, his unexpected charm, the way he somehow upends the ordinary, streams through my thoughts as palpably as the ticking of the clock that had earlier betrayed me.
A while later, Eloise calls from the living room, “You’ve done enough work for one day. Get in here so we can watch the show!” I wrestle a final red pen mark across the paper in front of me and look over. She's on the couch, a diva of questionable loyalty next to her, and popcorn dotting the floor like confetti. It’s like being haunted by twin ghosts of bad decisions.
“I’m coming!” I shout, throwing down the last set of papers. I knew my first year teaching would be rough, but third grade? These kids have more energy than Eloise after a six-pack of Red Bull. I’ve spent the entire evening correcting their spelling mistakes, trying to figure out what they actually mean by “cunt cach me,” and fighting to wipe Ian Hot from my mind.
My face still feels warm when I think about how Ian Hot’s smile made the fluorescent lights seem like soft candlelight.
We settle in, Winnie perched on Eloise’s lap, daring the world to disturb her kingdom of cushions. The show begins with drama, couples trying to decide if they're going to stay together or call it quits. Eloise is ruthless, predicting every break-up before the couples do. “He’s going to dump her,” she declares as a tearful confrontation unfolds. “Oh, and she’s totally trading up next episode.”
“She should. No woman should ever put up with that bullshit from a man,” I point out as Eloise pops another greasy kernel in her mouth. She’s more invested in these imaginary relationships than her own dating life, which she claims is on a permanent hiatus.
I focus on the screen, but Ian keeps sneaking into my mind. My daydreams turn cinematic, with Ian starring in my over-the-top steamy scenarios.
Winnie waddles over and interrupts my thoughts by pawing at my hand, insisting on more popcorn and affection. We get distracted debating which couples will last, and which ones are in for a season finale shocker.
The episode ends, leaving all the couples in emotional turmoil. I can relate. My heart and mind started battling over these crazy feelings the moment Ian Hot strolled into my classroom.
“Going to bed?” Eloise asks as I stand up. She switches to the next episode and nudges me with her foot. “Sure you don’t want to watch just one more? We can sleep in tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Nah, I’m pretty tired.” And I need time alone to figure out what’s going on with me.