Falling (BWWM Romance)

Chapter Three

The following Wednesday, twenty minutes before her last class, Ella broke off chunks of a granola bar and popped them into her mouth. She approached the studio counter and before she could ask Zoe if Steve was back, a sheet of paper was thrust into her face.

Zoe smirked. "Two more signed up for your class." Her eyes held Ella's for a second and then dropped to her phone.

Ella nearly choked on the morsel of granola she had just pinched off. "Wha-wha...what?"

"Well, it's just two." Zoe said, sucking her teeth. "Don't worry. They're little boys—I asked."

"You can't just add people to my class. I—"

The phone rang.

"Hold on." Zoe cradled the office phone against her skinny neck. "Hey, Steve. Fine, everything's fine."

"Everything's not fine." Ella held out a hand. "Let me speak to him, please."

Instead, Zoe hung up.

"What was the meaning of that?"

"What? He didn't want anything." Zoe swiped the screen of her electronic gadget, ignoring her.

Ella slapped the desk, wishing it was Zoe's face. Zoe didn't even jump. "But, I did."

She had more than a thing or two to tell him about his niece and how she was driving her to uncharacteristic violent tendencies.

As she turned gracefully on her heels, Zoe quipped, "One of the boys is Hannah's twin brother, the other one is their cousin—hope that helps."

At least Hannah was a well-behaved little girl and so maybe her brother would be too. Few boys ever entered her class, the rare ones who did were either very serious or didn't last two weeks. Those boys were put there by a pushy mother with stars in her eyes and ideas in her head about her son becoming the American version of Mikhail Baryshnikov. The serious boys moved up and on to other classes. She wasn't worried so much about the boys as she was of Mr. Pitcher. She headed toward the staff dressing room.

Locking the door, Ella sank to her knees and began to pray. She prayed for each student in her class, the imprint of the roster photo-copied in her brain. She prayed mentally down the list.

Her mental roster did not include the one from a few days ago. She didn't need it. How could she forget Mr. Pitcher? She intentionally saved him for last. When she got to him, she prayed for patience, kindness and grace and fervently begged God to be gracious enough to help find Mr. Turner amusement elsewhere. Her prayers spoken, Ella rose gracefully to her feet, her neck and back aligned as if an invisible rod held them together.

The clock on the wall indicated her class would start in fifteen minutes. Using the back stairs that led directly into the studio, Ella greeted Kenneth where he was seated at the piano keying a jazzy note.

He sniffed, adjusting a yellow and orange scarf around his neck. "You think Mr. So and So is going to show up for class today?"

"I sincerely hope not. Let's hope he broke a leg sliding into home base." She giggled. "Oh, that was so mean."

Kenneth pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and loudly cleared his throat. Ella looked up. Daniel strode in, two boys trailed behind him, eyes full of adoration.

The boyish version of Hannah, gushed, "Show me how to throw a fastball again."

"Well, guys, proper mechanics is crucial..."

Daniel produced a ball seemingly out of nowhere and executed the pitcher's stance. He pantomimed a pitch while the two boys stared wide-eyed.

I've got to put a stop to this. Fuming, Ella marched over to Daniel and caught him by the wrist. He turned in surprise.