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One thing that surprised Ashlyn about working at Mackenzie’s school was how little involvement she actually has with the lower school. It makes sense, of course, now that she's put thought into it and knows more about how things work behind the scenes, but Ali often knows more about what's going on there than Ashlyn, who works on the same damn campus.
That means Ashlyn has to make an extra effort to be involved with Mackenzie’s school stuff, always toeing the line between faculty and parent at events like PTA meetings and meet-the-teacher nights, not that she minds at all.
Twice a year, though, once in spring and once in fall, the school as a whole comes together for a parent town hall meeting, which is an assembly of sorts where representatives from all over school (teachers, administration, guidance, cafeteria staff, to name just a few) hold an open panel for questions from parents.
Depending on what's going on in the school, the meetings can get a bit rowdy, so when it comes time to volunteer, everyone warns Ashlyn against it, especially being so new to school. But when the email hits her inbox, she can't sign up fast enough, excited for the chance to get involved.
Naturally, when the list of panelists comes out, Ashlyn is selected (as she was likely the only one to even volunteer). She practices for days and obsesses over what to wear, which turns Ali on more than anticipated.
“You look hot,” Ali practically growls when Ashlyn is getting ready to leave the house, gripping her blazer in her fists and pulling her in for a kiss.
“Keep it in your pants tonight, Miss Krieger,” Ashlyn teases, tugging playfully on the drawstrings of her sweatpants.
They decided to drive separately so Ashlyn can get there early and schmooze the parents afterward while Ali can run home and relieve the babysitter but also for the sake of appropriateness. It's no secret that they're together, but there's also no need to draw attention to their relationship at Ashlyn’s first big event.
“‘Kay, but no promises for when you get home.”
“Good,” Ashlyn grins. “I'm out.”
Ali stands on her tiptoes for one more kiss. “Proud of you,” she murmurs against her lips.
Ashlyn straightens up a bit when she hears that, smirking to herself. Nobody makes her believe in herself more than Ali does, and it's never anything Ali overtly does or says, it's the way Ali doesn't seem to even grasp the concept that Ashlyn could ever possibly fail. Every success is celebration-worthy, but Ali never seems surprised. So every time Ashlyn is faced with a new challenge (like speaking in front of hundreds of parents at an assembly), all she has to do to scrounge up belief in herself is look to Ali.
~
Ashlyn scans the crowd as soon as she gets onto the stage, making sure she knows where Ali is. When her eyes land on her, Ali waves excitedly and blows a tiny kiss. Ashlyn winks back and blushes before turning away as if she's a middle schooler with a crush on the pretty brunette in the third row.
When she gets her first question, she's glad she found Ali when she did. A father wants to know what the counseling office is doing to better serve students who are struggling with their home lives. It's a sensitive subject that she's been trained to handle, but she knows it can ruffle feathers, so it's comforting to look at Ali when answering. Ali smiles and nods as if they're just having a normal conversation at home, and Ashlyn gets through the question with ease.
It gets easier after the first few, but Ashlyn looks to Ali toward the end of each answer to get her toothy smile and nod of approval. When the panel finally ends, Ashlyn wants to beeline to Ali, but attendees are mingling and parents want her attention for more personal and detailed questions, which she answers politely as Ali chats with some parents Ashlyn recognizes from Mac’s class. She looks even more devastatingly beautiful than usual when she doesn't know Ashlyn's looking, which is why Ashlyn sneaks as many glances as she can.
“Mrs. Harris?” A man wearing a business suit approaches her with a hand outstretched. Parents usually try to look nice at these functions, but he looks like he walked straight out of a board meeting way above Ashlyn’s pay grade.
“Miss,” she says, shaking his hand. “But you can call me Ashlyn.”
“Of course, excuse me, Ashlyn,” he says. “Randy Gordon, Megan’s dad. She's in the ninth grade.”
“Of course I know Megan,” Ashlyn says. “She's great.”
“I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for her,” he says. “As you probably know, her mom and I have been going through a pretty nasty divorce.”
Ashlyn feels her face flush, unaccustomed to talking about real problems with adults. She knows all about their divorce, how his wife cheated and he knew about it so he cheated right back. She knows how they use Megan, an only child, as a bargaining chip and how they probably wouldn't have ever gotten married if Megan’s mom hadn't gotten pregnant with her. She knows the things this guy doesn't know, like how sometimes Megan thinks it would be way easier for them to split up if she weren't around. But she doesn't say any of that, of course. She just smiles sympathetically and nods.
“Her grades started slipping and we tried everything,” he continues. “Tutors, psychiatrists, ADD medicine, nothing worked.”
Ashlyn forces a smile. As much of a proponent as she is for modern medicine, Megan doesn't have ADD, she has parents who make her home life so miserable that it infiltrates her school life.
“She came home the first day after talking to you, and it was like I had a new daughter,” he says. “She raves about you. I was amazed when you introduced yourself and you were so young. You are wise beyond your years. I don't know what you did, but her grades are back up and she's the same happy and agreeable girl as she was before.”
“Megan’s wonderful,” Ashlyn says again. “I'm glad to hear that.”
“Listen, Ashlyn,” Randy says, placing a hand on her arm. “We’re really trying to make this easier on her. Please let me know anything I can do to help her.”
Sirens flash behind Ashlyn’s eyes as she realizes he hasn't moved his hand, so she just smiles tightly and nods quickly, eyes darting from side to side looking for Ali, who must have left because she's nowhere to be found.
“Actually, do you have a card?” he asks. “I can give you mine too. It has my cell so if anything ever comes up and you need to reach me, you can.” He finally takes his hand away to reach into his breast pocket for his business card, but another hand replaces it, and Ashlyn turns to see Ali, smiling tightly.
“Can I steal you?” Ali asks, her voice sickeningly sweet, but Ashlyn breathes a sigh of relief upon seeing her.
“Of course, she was just giving me her card,” Randy says.
“You have a card, baby?” Ali asks, feigning surprise as she casually drops the pet name.
“I, uh, I don't actually,” she says, taking the one Randy is holding out and stuffing it into her pocket. “It was good meeting you, though.”
Ali turns Ashlyn around and walks away like she has somewhere to be, and Ashlyn just follows her to the refreshments table.
“Hey,” Ali says once they get there. Her face looks serious, but her tone is light. “So that wasn't okay.”
“No,” Ashlyn agrees. “A little freaky. Now I know how you feel when we go out.”
“I do not get hit on that much,” Ali says, rolling her eyes. “Nobody gets the chance because I'm attached to your hip from the very first second. Besides, you get hit on by women, which is way worse because most of them are actually good-looking.”
“That's a lie and you know it.”
“Is he looking?” Ali asks. “That guy.”
Ashlyn looks past Ali to see him, and he is, squinting curiously to figure out what could have been so important by the cheese and crackers. She nods.
Ali takes that as a cue to put her hands on Ashlyn's hips and kiss her on the lips. It's quick and chaste, but Ashlyn pulls away to see the guy turn bright red, and she doesn't have to ask Ali what the hell she's thinking kissing her here.
“I'm sorry,” Ali whispers. “I had to. Please don't be mad.”
“I'm not mad,” Ashlyn says. “You being jealous is kind of hot.”
“I'm not jealous!” Ali exclaims. “He touched you without your permission—or mine, at that—and he needs to know that you're spoken for.”
Ashlyn places her hands on Ali’s waist, her thumbs rubbing circles on her ribcage. “He knows now,” she says with a smile. “But maybe we should make sure he really gets it.” With that, she leans down and kisses Ali again. “Love you.”
“Love you more,” Ali says, extracting herself from Ashlyn’s arms. “I should get home, though. Mac should be asleep, so just come straight to bed when you get home, okay?”
“I can't believe seeing someone else flirt with me turns you on so much.”
Ali rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that's it, not the fact that you are all dressed up and wearing the perfume I bought you for our anniversary.”
“And the fact that other people want me.”
“You're mine,” Ali grumbles. Her face softens, and she smirks. “I just want to make sure you remember that.”