Calculus of the Heart

Chapter 9

I stroll into school on Monday with a smirk, my shirt proclaiming, "Bitchcraft - The Art of Pissing People Off While Smiling Sweetly." The shirt always gets a few raised eyebrows and knowing chuckles, but today it seems to amplify my mood. I'm ready for a new week and all the twists it might bring.

My first class is math with Ms. Reynolds. Walking into her classroom, I'm greeted by the sight of her preparing for the lesson. She's wearing a white blouse and a navy skirt that highlights her sharp, professional style. Her hair is pinned up neatly, but a few rebellious strands frame her face, adding a touch of casual elegance.

"Good morning, Ms. Reynolds," I say as I approach my seat, feeling a bit cheeky with my shirt's message.

She looks up from her desk, her eyes momentarily catching on my shirt before meeting my gaze. Her lips twitch as if she's trying to suppress a smile. "Good morning, Ms. Sullivan. Nice shirt. Ready to dive into the complexities of linear equations?"

I chuckle as I take my seat. "You know me, always up for a challenge."

As Ms. Reynolds begins explaining today's topic—linear equations—I can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she talks about math. She's passionate about her subject, and it's clear she loves teaching.

Halfway through the lecture, I raise my hand. "Ms. Reynolds, is this equation supposed to look this complicated, or is it just me?"

She glances at me with a playful glint in her eye. "Oh, it's not just you. But if you think it's complicated now, just wait until the new material."

"Even more complicated?" I exclaim, feigning shock. "You're really trying to ruin my day, aren't you?"

She tries to suppress a smile, but I catch it. "If I wanted to ruin your day, I'd give you a pop quiz."

I shudder dramatically. "Now that's just cruel."

Ms. Reynolds shakes her head, clearly enjoying our banter. "I'm not that mean. But I do expect you to keep up with the material."

The class continues with a light-hearted back-and-forth, and it's clear that there's a comfortable rapport between us. I catch her glancing at my shirt a few more times, and each time, she hides her smile behind a focused expression.

The rest of the day unfolds with the usual hustle of school life. I catch up with Jess, Abby, and Amori between periods. We chat about our weekend plans, how much we want it to be Friday and joke around, a nice distraction from the seriousness of class.

By the time the final bell rings, I'm ready for the day to end. I catch a last glimpse of Ms. Reynolds across the hallway as she's conversing with a colleague. Her usual serious expression is in place, but I notice a slight, almost imperceptible smile when she sees me.

• • •

I pull into the driveway after school and spot a sleek, black car parked in Dad's usual spot. It's not his old Mercedes, but a newer model with an elegant, polished finish. My heart leaps at the sight. I hadn't expected him home until the end of the week, and seeing a new car in the driveway is a pleasant surprise.

As I get out of my car and approach the house, I see Dad standing at the door, a wide grin on his face. He looks just as I remember him: tall, with graying hair and that warm, welcoming smile that always made me feel at home. His uniform is slightly rumpled, a sign of the long flight he must have just completed.

"Ella!" he calls out, spreading his arms wide. I rush into his embrace, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence. "I didn't expect you home so early. How was school?"