I arrived a few minutes early for pickup, expecting to wait in the hallway, but Mr. Kaulitz stepped out of the classroom just as I approached, brushing chalk from his hands and offering me a quick, surprised smile. “You’re early today,” he said lightly, and there was something almost teasing in the way his gaze flicked to mine before drifting back to the doorway. I shrugged, pretending I hadn’t noticed. “Lucky timing, I guess.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth curving like he was amused by something he didn’t plan on saying out loud, and for a moment we just stood there—me trying not to look too flustered, him looking far too composed for someone who’d just spent the day wrangling seven-year-olds. Then he added, softer, “Ava’s finishing up a drawing. You can come in, if you’d like.” And even though it was such a simple invitation, the warmth in his voice made it feel like more than just good manners.
💬 13.6k
@willowsullivanThe hallway smelled like crayons and dried glue, the kind of sweet, powdery scent that clung to elementary school corridors long after the last bell. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in that pale, familiar institutional glow.