Vanishing Act. Liz Johnson

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СКАЧАТЬ you have your transcript, I can approve you for the others. Otherwise, it’s too late for you to sign up for them.”

      He shrugged, uncertain of which class to sign up for. None of these options really suited his academic background. But he reminded himself he wasn’t in it for the education. Sure, his J.D.—actually his bachelor’s or master’s—qualified him for most of the classes offered at CCCC. But he wasn’t in it for the education.

      The lady on the other side of the desk strummed her fingers on the counter, her lips pursed unhappily.

      He needed to make a decision.

      Auto Mechanics 101? Danielle’s pretty face immediately popped to mind. It wasn’t very often he saw a cute mechanic, and there probably wouldn’t be anyone like her in the class. But it sounded pretty basic, and it could come in handy considering his recent car trouble. Plus it would be easier to talk to other students in the open forum rather than a typical lecture setting.

      “Let’s do the auto shop class.”

      Five minutes and one credit card swipe later, Nate was signed up for his first community college class that night. He just had time to get home, change clothes and grab a bite to eat before heading back for the class.

      Danielle rubbed her forearms briskly through her light corduroy jacket. While it had been an unusually warm fall, a stiff breeze this evening brought a cold front and possible snow to the mountains according to the local weatherman. Hurrying toward the building that housed the auto shop, she prayed for courage.

      “Lord, please give me Your strength.” Then silently she pleaded for safety. Being noticed was the first step to being recognized, and she couldn’t go back to her old life. Crescent City meant safety and anonymity, save the select few friends she’d made. But standing in front of a classroom took away that security.

      But she’d promised Andy.

      She clenched her fist to still the trembling before pushing at the large metal door with the number 102 stenciled above it. It squeaked loudly on its hinges.

      Great way to sneak in and hope the students wouldn’t notice her right away. She’d been hoping for a couple more minutes to bolster her courage, but every eye in the room turned on her as her work boots clomped on the cement floor and she walked toward the teacher’s desk.

      With one more silent plea for courage, she turned around and faced them. In her mind she had imagined them all scowling at her, but as she looked at the thirteen men and three women in the class, she saw mostly smiles and friendly nods.

      These were her Crescent City neighbors, built of the same stock as Andy. They shared grocery stores and gas stations, and she had probably worked on their cars. They weren’t Goodwill’s men, or even from Portland. They didn’t know about her past. They didn’t know about her dad’s murder in the alley.

      Just the thought of that night made her chest tighten and her heart speed up, but there was no time to dwell on the past or her part in letting her dad die.

      Taking another deep breath and forcing a smile, she greeted them. “Hello. My name is Danielle. I’ll be filling in for Andy for a couple of weeks while he’s out of town.” More friendly nods, but no one spoke. “Andy said that you were discussing spark plugs. Can anyone tell me what you’ve talked about so far?”

      A hand raised in the back row of tables, and she stepped to the side to get a better view of its owner. She pointed to him and opened her mouth to ask his name but stopped when her heart jumped.

      “Mr. Andersen? What are you doing here?”

      His smile showed off his perfectly straight teeth. “Call me Nate. Just enrolled today. Figured I’d better learn a little something about cars.” He chuckled, and Danielle couldn’t help the genuine smile that spread across her face at the contagious sound.

      He had such a pleasant face, strong yet kind, tanned and handsome. And his eyes sparkled in the fluorescent lights.

      Suddenly another student cleared his throat loudly, ripping her from her wayward thoughts. She had no right looking at a man that way. She had nothing to offer him. Nothing but constant fear from a past that always haunted her.

      “Nate, I assume that you’re not going to answer my question.”

      He nodded. “That’s right. Just wanted to see if I could borrow a book. The bookstore had to order me one.”

      Another hand raised as well. This from a pretty blond woman sitting in the second row. “Me too. I just added this class yesterday, and the bookstore said it could be a couple of weeks before my book comes in.”

      “I’m sure we have some books here. Anyone else?” Another young man raised his hand, as Danielle opened the metal cabinet behind the desk. After passing out the books, she opened the spiral-bound grade book that Andy had told her was in the top left desk drawer. “Can you give me your names?”

      The woman, probably in her late thirties, spoke up first. “Ivey Platt. With two T’s.”

      The young man announced that his name was Kirk Banner.

      “All right. Let’s get started.” She flipped open her book and asked a twentysomething with brown hair, “What has Andy covered so far with you?”

      “The name’s Ridley Grant.” He smiled and winked at her then prattled on about how much they’d covered in the first few classes.

      The rest of the class seemed to pass in a blur. Danielle answered questions and covered the sections that Andy had outlined and left for her. The last thirty minutes were dedicated to hands-on learning, and the group gathered around Danielle as she showed them how to inspect and install new spark plugs. They looked at the old ones and discussed why they were no longer good. Several students—especially Nate—interacted in the discussion, and by the end of the two-hour class, Danielle felt surprisingly calm. Her hands were steady and her voice didn’t shake at all.

      “Thanks, guys. Have a great night,” she said, dismissing them just a couple minutes early. Books slammed closed and stools scraped on the floor as the majority of the students made their way toward the door.

      Busy packing up her own bag and locking up the cabinets, Danielle didn’t notice the approach of a couple of her students.

      “Danielle?” asked a soft soprano.

      She jumped and sucked in a breath so fast that she had to cough several times to clear her throat. “Ivey, you scared me.” She finally laughed.

      The woman’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners and turned softer. “Sorry. I just had a quick question. Kirk can go first.” She nodded toward the younger man standing beside her.

      Kirk Banner was a handsome, if very rumpled, man probably older than most of his cohorts but trying to look like them. His shaggy blond hair was in complete disarray, and his brown eyes were hard, almost angry. He shrugged boney shoulders that stretched the fabric of his too-tight red T-shirt. “I was just wondering how the grading is going to work.”

      His tone was nonchalant, but Danielle could hear a flicker of antagonism somewhere below the surface.

      “Well, of course Andy will give all the final grades. But I’ll be reporting to him on the assignments that are completed and СКАЧАТЬ