But Jaxon embraced me. Held me as I cried. And I didn’t feel ashamed.

I felt comforted.

I flip the light switch in my classroom and set my purse on my desk. A lone yellow rose stands out amongst the stacks of student work I need to grade. Picking it up, I turn over the note that’s tied to the stem.

Hope this makes you smile today. Xo Jax

My stomach clenches. A barrage of questions assault my mind, but I push them away as the arrival bell rings. I float around in a daze for the rest of the morning.

When my class leaves for lunch at noon, I sling my lunchbox on my shoulder. I’m halfway to the door when my classroom phone rings.

“Hello, Ms. Donahue’s room.”

Jaxon’s smooth voice filters through the speaker. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Have you been smiling today?”

I bite my lip. “I have. Thank you for the flower.”

“Yellow means friendship.”

“So we’ve moved up from a truce to friendship?”

“I’d like to think so.”

“I suppose you’ve earned it.”

He chuckles and I imagine what his face looks like with that perfect smile spread across it. “Have a good afternoon.”

“You too.”

Something has definitely changed.

“We’re in need of some fundraiser ideas. Parents have grown tired of the same holiday magazines selling candy and candles. Anything you guys can come up with would be greatly appreciated.”

Several hands go up around the faculty room. Kerry nudges me. “You should tell him about your idea.”

I shake my head. “It gets shot down every year.”

“It’s a good idea,” Becca whispers. “It would be so much fun. The kids would love it.”

Kerry raises her hand. “Mr. Waters? Raegan has a fantastic idea that I think you should hear. Ouch!”

I kicked her in her shin under the table.

Jaxon’s dark eyes fixate on me. “I’m all ears.”

“It’s dumb. It’ll probably cost more than we raise. No principal before you has ever liked it.”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “That sounds like a challenge to me.”

A couple of the teachers hoot and clap.

“Come on, Rae,” Chris says from the next table. “You always come up with killer ideas.”

Jaxon’s jaw ticks as he stares at Chris. He recovers quickly and returns his attention back to me.

“Well, we could have a holiday carnival. Games. Music. Cotton candy. A bounce house. Maybe some farm animals for the kids to pet?” I shrug. “The money we make from the tickets can go towards our school. We could do a raffle to get people to donate more money. Teachers or parent volunteers could run the games so we wouldn’t have to pay anyone.”

“My husband could get us a bounce house,” the art teacher says.

“I have an old-fashioned popcorn machine going to waste in my basement,” says Mrs. Sullivan.