All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

turned my attention to the classroom door Glo was pointing at, a man charged out of the room directly to my left, knocking me halfway to the ground. But instead of feeling carpet fibers smash into my cheek, I felt hands lock on either side of my arms as he used centrifugal force to spin me in a circle rather than fling me to the floor.

“Molly—” Silas blurted, dropping his hands to his sides the instant he steadied me back on my feet. “I didn’t see you out here. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said a bit breathlessly. “Who knew a surprise waltz would be the perfect remedy for—” The words had tumbled out before I realized what I was saying, or to whom I was speaking. Silas couldn’t know I was nervous. I was on trial. Tonight was about proving I fit in, proving I could fit here.

“A remedy for?”

Stress. Panic. Anxiety. All of the above. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Silas looked from me to Glo, as if she might provide him a reason for my tight-lipped response. Instead, she patted my shoulder and said, “You’re gonna do great, kiddo,” then excused herself.

Wait—did Glo sound nervous for me? I followed her with my eyes, hoping she might turn around and give me a reassuring thumbs-up. Or even an okay sign would do. But no, nothing more.

“You all right, Molly?”

I bobbed my head unnaturally, willing myself to pull it together. “Yep, great. I’m just curious where you were running off to so quickly.”

“Just to the next room over to get your handouts off the printer.”

The emergency had been over my handouts? He must have interpreted the question from the crinkle in my brow. “I didn’t want you to have to start without them.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Of course. Though I’m sure you’d have no problem winging it without notes.”

I wouldn’t bet on that, Silas. At this point I’ll be happy if I remember not to lock my knees when they start to shake. Passing out on my first night would likely be frowned upon.

I only smiled up at him in reply.

He gestured behind me to the room he’d just exited. “Clara is setting up in there now. She’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

As he took a step in the opposite direction, I blurted, “I’ll come with you.” Because at this point, I wasn’t ready to step into any classroom without him. Funny how a mere situational change could cause your adversary to become your safety net.

Silas turned back and glanced over my head. “There’s really no need. I’ll just be a moment. Clara can help you with whatever you need for class.”

I exhaled a deep breath but made no attempt to move toward the classroom.

“Molly,” he said with a dip of his chin.

“It’s just, I think it might be best if—”

Once again he pointed to the open door behind me, to where a short-statured young woman smiled and waved.

“Meet Clara,” Silas said. “My future sister-in-law and our math genius extraordinaire. Clara, meet our guest speaker for the night, Molly McKenzie.”

As it turned out, Clara was not the embodiment of a member of Mean Girls circa 2004. She was, in fact, a petite midtwenties Asian woman with a cute A-line haircut and an adorable pair of black-and-white polka-dotted glasses.

“Hi, Molly.” She offered her hand along with a bright smile.

“Your glasses are super cute.”

“Really?” She touched the bridge of her nose and slid them upward a half inch. “I just got them. They’re actually way out of my comfort zone, but . . .” She snapped her mouth shut and then seemed to think twice.

“But what?”

She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “I watched your video on how to find trendy frames that fit your face. I followed your tips.”

I couldn’t have been more surprised than if she’d told me she’d stolen the glasses off some unsuspecting person at a bus stop.

“You watched my . . .” I shook my head. “But how did you even know where to find—”

“Jake.” She beamed. “He told me your name, and it didn’t take long to find you online. We ended up watching one after another, straight through dinner.” Again, she pursed her lips. “I was super nervous about tonight. I’ve never met a famous person before.”

“Oh gosh, I’m not famous.” I laughed, grateful the classroom was empty minus Clara.

“Maybe not by your standards, but I don’t know anybody in real life who has six hundred ninety-four thousand subscribers on YouTube alone. That’s definitely celebrity status in my opinion.”

Again, I had to laugh. “You really do love numbers.”

She shrugged. “I have a weird knack for remembering whatever number I see. Even if it was years ago. They just stick in my head.”

I turned back toward the door, hearing groups of footsteps coming down the hall.

“That will be a few of the guys on the set-up crew. They’ll arrange the tables and chairs. We still have about twenty minutes before we start, though. So whatever I can help you with, just let me know. Need an HDMI cord for your laptop?”

I nodded, too afraid my racing heart might actually shoot right out of my throat if I opened my mouth. What is wrong with me?

“Sure thing. I have one right here.” Clara reached into a cabinet nearby and handed me the cord. “I’ll erase all this, too, so you can have access to the entire whiteboard if you need it.” She began erasing a dozen or more equations—numbers and letters mixed into a queasy blend of math I had zero reference for. “I get here a bit early on Tuesdays to tutor before mandatory starts.”

“Mandatory?”

“That’s what the kids call Tuesday night classes.”

“Wait, like, they’re forced to be here?”

Again, she hiked up her glasses and smiled. “They’re not led here in chains or anything, but yeah, they have to come. It’s a part of the commitment they sign to live at The Bridge.”

Great, so not only would tonight’s trial class not be an elective class they chose to participate in, but these kids were actually