Around six thirty I was nudged awake by a text from Erin an hour earlier than my alarm.

  I’m in the lobby. What floor you on?

  I sat up and replied quickly.

  Fourth. Room 412.

  Disoriented, I fumbled to the bathroom, removing the sick from my breath and sleep from my face. I checked myself in the full-length mirror on the wall and looked over at the clock.

  What could be taking her so long? I thought.

  As I opened the door to take stock of which students were sitting outside of their rooms, she finally appeared at the end of the hallway. I clenched my jaw to avoid smiling too hard, knowing my dimples would reveal the truth.

  When she walked into the room, I noticed the red Scrabble box sticking out of her bag.

  “That’s how you feel tonight?” I asked, looking down at her bag as she sat on the bed.

  Her eyes followed my glance to the box.

  “We haven’t played in a while. I wanted to remind you of the last ass-whooping you received.” Her smile made the challenge feel less threatening in a way. Considering we couldn’t sit in the room all night allowing horny teenagers moving in and out of rooms freely, it would give us something to do—together.

  Erin laid her bag down and grabbed the box. I threw a hoodie on and we walked down the long hallway, side by side, to the foyer near the elevator. One of my eighth grade students, Josh, jogged up from behind

  “Who is this, Ms. Alexander?” he asked, looking Erin up and down.

  “Hey, Josh. How are you?” I said sarcastically. He put his hand over his heart acknowledging his error. I nodded, receiving his apology.

  “Ask for her name,” I said.

  “Oh, my bad. I’m Josh. What’s your name?” He extended his hand.

  She met her hand with his. “I’m Erin. Nice to meet you.” Josh’s wide smile showed all of his pearly white teeth.

  “Erin’s a friend from college.” I added. “She lives here in DC.”

  Josh shook his head and shuffled back down the hall where he had been sitting with a group of students who were eagerly awaiting the intel.

  We stopped at an entryway table across from the elevator.

  “This is as good a spot as any.” I said, plopping down in the peach-colored, padded armchair.

  “We could’ve sat on the floor and the outcome would still be the same,” Erin chided. I hadn’t noticed the Scrabble Dictionary before.

  “You like to cheat.” She waved the book like a preacher reminding the congregation of The Word.

  As we played, students stopped by to watch and make small talk. Their distraction reminded me I was still at work.

  “Thank you for coming to hang out,” I said through a smile.

  “Why wouldn’t I have come?”

  Her response caused me to pause. I looked at her suspiciously but played along. “Our last encounter wasn’t the most pleasant... I didn’t know what to expect honestly.”

  She avoided eye contact as she replenished the tiles from the black felt bag. “There was a lot going on then. We’ve moved—I’ve moved passed that.”

  “I see.” I pretended to focus on the game board. Maybe I should let it go. She was here now, and that was all that mattered.

  *

  When curfew started at eleven thirty, she walked me back down the hallway to my room. I stopped along the way to secure tape from the wall to the doors, a tactic to determine if anyone had snuck out after room check.

  Once back in my room, Erin sat on the bed where she had laid her bag earlier and used her feet to remove her shoes.

  “You staying the night?” I asked before launching into a coughing fit.

  “I don’t want you up worrying about me traveling home when you need to be getting some rest.” Her words made me feel warm and fuzzy. She picked up the sienna medicine bottle from the nightstand and passed it over to me. I grabbed a bottle of water from the dresser to wash the taste out of my mouth.

  I slid my phone from the charger and sent Lena, my roommate and fellow chaperone, a text before climbing into bed.

  I have company. Don’t be alarmed.

  Erin joined me on the other side closer to the window. I scooted to the middle of the bed to cuddle her. Instead, she nudged me over and pulled me into her chest. I released a deep sigh, segueing into a ramble about letting her win the game. She shushed me and squeezed me tightly. I dozed off, nestled in her arms.

  *

  Early the next morning, I woke up in a fog. There was a dull ringing in my head. Erin’s presence had felt like a dream. It wasn’t until I noticed the open box of thank you cards I requested for my students I knew she had really been there. One had been removed from the package and was propped up against my medicine bottle with my name written on the envelope. I pulled the card out and saw it was embossed with a gold butterfly. I slowly opened the card, uncertain of the message that was destined to greet me.

  “Peyton, thank you for a lovely night. I hope you feel better soon. —Erin”

  Her note gave me something tangible to hold on to. I latched on to the intention, as subtle as it may have been, with hopes of what was to come. I loved her. And maybe, deep down, she actually had feelings for me too.

  eleven.

  Once I returned to Baton Rouge, we continued to talk and text, but none of our conversations held any real substance. Even if Erin actually cared, there remained a void in our connection. I still cared deeply for her, but I kept my guard up despite the moments we shared at the hotel.

  Being connected to Erin was an addiction. As much as I wanted us to be in each other’s world, the timing and space were never aligned.

  Eight more months had passed since we last saw each other. I returned to DC for a conference following a major snowstorm. Erin picked me up from the front of the Hyatt Regency a little after 9 a.m. As happy as I was to spend my last couple of hours with her, I knew it was a bad idea.

  Sliding into the car, I noticed she didn’t look well. Her small frame was being swallowed up by the peacoat draped over her body. Looking more closely, her face was thinner than I remembered before. Whatever she had going on in her life was taking a toll on her physically.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, trying not to stare at her bony hands laying against the steering wheel.

  “I’m fine.” She pulled her hand into her lap. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat.” I said. You could, too. I thought.

  Erin was a movie aficionado. Whenever we were together or had time to actually speak, she quoted lines from all sorts of films, and I always failed to guess them correctly. Dropping a line from Antwan Fisher was my attempt at speaking her language.

  She took me to a little breakfast spot where we ordered our food and waited outside. Although hidden by the clouds, the sun’s presence caused the sky to glow. The breeze made me long for a heavier coat.

  “Do you need me to keep you warm?” I extended my arms out to welcome her into me.

  She pulled her coat around her more tightly and popped the collar. She regarded my arms before shaking her head no. “I’m fine.”

  My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I flipped it over to catch a glimpse of who was calling. It was Parker.

  Two years after breaking up, we were now planning our future together. She would flip her shit if she knew I was with Erin. I muted the alert and looked up to see Erin returning from the pickup window with our food.

  “You ready?” she asked, leading the way back to the car.

  There had been some significant changes in my life. Parker and I had gotten back together after the field trip to DC. I wanted the fairytale—a partner and kids—and Parker was willing to give it to me. Erin only saw me as a friend and there seemed to be no changing her mind.

  Instead of heading back to the hotel, we drove to a house nearby. DC is full of row houses like the one she parked in front of. It was gray brick with steps leading up to the front door. Once inside, I saw a picture of who I presumed to be her family near the TV.

  “You decorated yourself?” I asked.

  She nodded her head. “I did a little something.”

  The walls were ombre in various shades of white. A warm blue accent wall outlined the fireplace where a mirror hung over the mantle. Still standing and holding my food, I continued to look around. Though the space was small, it felt large enough for her... For us.

  “Are you going to eat? You can nuke it if it’s not hot enough.” She pointed toward the microwave in the kitchen before sitting on the couch.

  I joined her, declining the offer to warm my food. We sat and ate in silence.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as I scarfed down my waffle.

  Mid chew, I tapped my wrist. “My flight leaves in a few hours.” I didn’t want to leave but knew I couldn’t stay even if she asked me to. It was best I didn’t draw it out.

  Discarding the Styrofoam container in the kitchen trash, I looked up to see Mickey and the gang looking back at me. The magnet I’d bought her in Florida had made the fridge. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten about me after all.

  It killed me to not have been truthful with Parker leading up to this trip. She had all but forgotten my previous feelings for Erin. And despite the unrequited love I had for Erin, I chose to rekindle my relationship with Parker because she demonstrated her love for me.

  *

  As we pulled into a spot on the street on the backside of the hotel, Erin put the car in park and turned to face me. Worried she was going to say something I didn’t want to hear, I avoided eye contact.

  “I’m sorry, Peyton.”

  I furrowed my brow before turning my head in her direction. “Me, too. I wish I could have stayed longer.”

  Erin shook her head. ”Not that. I mean, yeah, me too, but that’s not what I was referencing.” She folded her gloved hands in her lap. “I’m sorry about what happened after Florida. I still had feelings for Tasha and I didn’t want you to get hurt while I was trying to figure that out.” She looked down at her hands then back up at me. My eyes caught hers and I sat there frozen. Then, like a switch, my adrenaline kicked into overdrive.

  Her statement sent my mind into a rush. My mouth soon followed. “Okay. So y’all back together now? She knows you’re seeing me? What happens next?” I took a deep inhalation and relaxed my shoulders. “My bad. That’s none of my business. It’s cool. Thank you for letting me know.” I gripped the lapel on my jacket to avoid fiddling with my hands. I wish she would have just told me that sooner and I would have never fallen for her.

  Erin shook her head, “No. We aren’t together. I just wanted to be honest with you about what happened.”

  I nodded my head.

  “Thanks again for breakfast.” I said, zipping my jacket and before opening the door. She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Stepping out, I reached for my phone in hopes my flight got cancelled and I could stay one more night. My wishful thinking was interrupted by the sound of someone calling my name.

  “Peyton! Peyton Alexander!” It was a familiar voice, but I couldn’t figure out which direction it was coming from.

  I turned my head in hopes no one else knew it was my name being belted out across the capitol. It was Vanessa, another teacher from New Orleans waving her hand as she walked toward me.

  “Hey girl!” She leaned in to hug me, lingering a bit longer than the relationship called for. “You want to grab a drink tonight?”

  “Where were you last night?” I said extending my arms in her direction. Before she could respond, I chimed back in. “I wish I could, but my flight leaves in an hour. Let’s connect when we’re back in Louisiana.”

  Just then, my phone began to vibrate. Saved by the buzz. I waved Vanessa off and headed toward the elevator.

  “Where are you? Why haven’t you been responding to my texts?” Parker asked frantically.

  “Parker, I’m fine. I just wanted some alone time. I’m headed to the room now to grab my things and head toward the airport. Okay?” I didn’t want to sound dismissive. She meant well, but ever since she found out I would be coming to this city, she started acting strange.

  “I’m just ready for you to be home.” As sweet as that sounded, I was in no hurry to get back.

  “Me too. See you soon.” I ended the call and prepared to head home.

  *

  “Do you love me?” was all I had written in the message to Erin as I walked into the salon. The question seemed so simple. The response, if there was one, would determine if I would call off the commitment ceremony with Parker which was only three days away. Since February, Erin was constantly on my mind. No matter how I tried to avoid it, I was trapped in the whirlwind of she and I.

  Sitting in chair, Mo and I chopped it up about the latest in the city and on campus at The South U. I held my phone tightly in anticipation of her response.

  The shop was where I could kick it and just be myself, but tonight I was tense. I was searching for a reason to walk away from Parker. I loved her, but I loved the idea of Erin more. I didn’t have the stomach to call off the ceremony on a whim. A lot of money had been spent and I couldn’t stand the thought of the embarrassment we would both face. It didn’t seem fair to anyone in the situation.

  I felt my phone vibrating but couldn’t immediately see who it was since my hair was covering my face. I shook my head so my hair would shift from my eyes. The message was from Erin. Whatever it says, I’ll just roll with it. I was cavalier enough to ask the question. I had to be woman enough to receive whatever the response may be.

  I don’t not love you.

  I frowned at the message. I understood what the double negative was meant to imply, but why did she have to make things more complicated. I would have been okay with “I don’t know” or “I’m undecided,” but no, she had to say “yes” in the most ass-backward way. Why did it always have to be a guessing game with her? A simple question deserved a simple answer. I flipped the phone back over.

  I sat there for a moment, quietly gathering my thoughts not realizing I had suddenly stopped talking.

  “You good?” Mo asked, stopping mid-part to check on me.

  “Yeah. Just a lot on my mind. With all this stuff to do this week, I’m just looking forward to my trip,” I said, trying to re-engage without too many details.

  I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone I was contemplating calling it all off. I needed an out, much like Whitley Gilbert had when Dwayne Wayne rescued her from marrying Byron on A Different World. Erin was supposed to be my Dwayne, but here she was offering up a riddle at the most inopportune moment.

  Frustrated, I opened my messages to respond to Erin, to tell her how I felt, but “Okay,” was all I could muster in return.

  Technically, she had said yes, but she hadn’t. Love was not supposed to be this complicated. It should have been I love you, you love me, and we are together loving each other forever. And as much as I wanted that with Erin, I couldn’t look pass the complexity of the moment with all of its discomfort and unknowns. I would keep my word to Parker and plan to live happily ever after.

  Nothing good could ever come from loving Erin. Our history had proven that.

  twelve.

  Shortly after Parker and I tied the unofficial knot, I quit my job and started to explore living options outside of Louisiana. “The Boot,” as it is affectionately known, was home, but I wanted more. I had become an adult in Baton Rouge, but the lack of progression in the state made me long for a different experience, especially if I wanted to raise kids.

  I applied for jobs in Philadelphia and Chicago, but nothing seemed to be the right fit.

  “I’m thinking about applying for a job in DC,” I told Parker, but she was less than enthused.

  “I’m not moving to DC,” she said vehemently and that was that.

  It wasn’t the hill I was ready to die on so I continued looking for a job that would allow me to flourish. I reached out to Kristy, a classmate from Columbia who worked with a group of schools in New Orleans. After meeting with Alex, the principal, I took a chance on him and the newly created position. Unfortunately, it came at the cost of a daily two-and-a-half-hour roundtrip commute.

  Every morning, I’d commit to the same routine: up at four and out of the house by five-fifteen. Around six thirty, I could see the top of the Superdome and my whole mood would change. Flipping from the radio to my Bluetooth, I picked a different daily anthem to take me from the ramp into the parking lot of the school. It was the extra boost I needed to get to the end of the day.

  As the Literacy Coach, I wasn’t tied to any one space. Circling the halls of the cube-shaped structure near the I-10 overpass, I ventured into classrooms, observing the teaching of the adults but being educated by the students.

  “Wassup! Woah!” followed by a coded handshake was a common exchange that took place in the muted halls.

  “That’s a demerit!” an overzealous teacher would yell back, diminishing the spirit of kids who desperately wanted to be seen. Many of the students, mostly boys, had missed first and second grade due to Hurricane Katrina in 2005. They were stuck in a system not designed for them or by anyone who looked like them.

  “Why we gotta wear des shoes, Ms. Alexander?” Lamont would plead every morning during homeroom, pointing at his dulled black loafers that accompanied his uniform. “It would be betta if I could wear my tennis.”

  Although I agreed with Lamont and the fourteen other boys in my daily advisory, most of the time, I was bound to follow the rules that were laid out by administration.

  I sought out connections with staff as much as I could. New Orleans was a long way to travel every day just to work, and I was starting to feel just as deflated as my students when I met Rachel.