Fractures and Sparks
Amanda couldn’t concentrate the next morning.
She stood at the front of her classroom, staring at her lesson notes while her students buzzed with quiet chatter, utterly detached from the room around her.
All she could think about was how close Angela had been the night before.
How natural it felt to sit next to her, shoulder to shoulder, fingers brushing.
How it hadn’t felt terrifying.
It had felt—inevitable.
Amanda shook herself, refocusing just enough to make it through the morning, handing out worksheets, answering questions. She clung to the rhythm of teaching, the familiar routine, but her heart wasn’t in it.
When the lunch bell rang, Amanda didn’t even wait. She grabbed her bag and beelined toward the counseling office.
Angela wasn’t there.
Amanda hovered by the door, feeling foolish, before pulling out her phone.
Amanda: Where’s my favorite therapist?
The reply came a few minutes later.
Angela: Meeting with a student. Be out soon. You okay?
Amanda stared at the screen longer than necessary.
Amanda: Just missed you.
She hit send before she could second-guess it, immediately feeling her heart hammer against her ribs.
Angela didn’t reply right away.
Amanda wandered toward the teachers' lounge, pretending to look busy.
Her phone buzzed again.
Angela: I missed you too.
Amanda sat down heavily on one of the ugly plastic chairs, the world tilting just slightly.
She hadn’t imagined it.
She wasn’t alone in this.
After school, Angela found her by the vending machines, two sodas in hand.
She tossed one to Amanda without a word.
Amanda caught it, grinning, feeling sixteen again.
They sat outside on the low brick wall by the parking lot, kicking at stray pebbles, the late afternoon sun warm against their faces.
Amanda wanted to say something.
Wanted to name the thing growing between them.
Instead, she said, "You’re a terrible influence."
Angela bumped their shoulders together. "You love it."
Amanda smiled helplessly at her soda can, heart stuttering wildly.
Yeah.
Yeah, she did.