Ella cleaned baking-soda residue from miniature volcanoes and took down crepe-paper streamers. At next year’s science fair she would ban explosions. When she turned to toss a paper towel into the
wastebasket, she noticed Logan standing at the door of her classroom, his pale-green button-down shirt now untucked from his khakis and unbuttoned at the top. He held his hands clasped behind his back, looking more like a student than a fourth-grade math teacher. Ella and he often graded papers together in the teacher’s lounge, working their way through each unit, since the math and science curricula overlapped.
“I’m looking for the Environmental Threats and Global Warming exhibit,” Logan said.
“You’re in the right place.”
“Very nice,” he said, inspecting a diorama of the earth’s core. “Yes. Well, I need a drink.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cracked his knuckles. “Do you have any booze?”
