June's POV
After everything that had happened yesterday, I was surprised that I could even get some shut-eye, but that didn't last for long, cause here I was staring at my reflection intently in the bathroom by 4:00 am. The bags underneath my eyes had become visible, my hair was a mess. I winced at the person I saw in the mirror. Grateful for the lack of sleep, I decided to take my time getting ready today. I needed all the time I could get.
The air in the classroom was thick with the hum of restless energy. I stood at the front of my third-grade classroom, trying to focus on the lesson plan for the day, but my mind kept wandering about different things. Jury duty. The sign. Michael Stahom. It all swirled around me like a tornado, pulling at my concentration.
"Ms. Skylar!" A voice broke through the noise. I blinked, realizing one of my students, Lily, was waving her hand in the air like she was about to take off."Yes, Lily?" "What's the capital of Montana again?" she asked, looking up at me with those big, curious eyes. I forced a smile. It wasn't even related to the subject we were covering today."Helena," I replied, and she beamed before scribbling something in her notebook.
At least I could manage simple geography questions. But the weight of everything outside the classroom was pressing down on me harder than I cared to admit. I let out a sigh as I glanced at the clock on the wall. Two more hours until the end of the school day, and all I could think about was the letter on my kitchen counter—the one summoning me to jury duty.
I had thought about it all morning, what I was going to do. I didn't know the first thing about Jury duty, but I would when I got back home. Samantha and I would do some research and I'd get to decide if I'd flunk on it or not.
As if I didn't have enough on my plate, the universe decided to throw in another curveball. And to top it off, Michael Stahom's smug face kept appearing in my mind, replaying our encounter from earlier. How could someone be so calm after crashing into something so personal? My students were working quietly on their worksheets now, giving me a moment to breathe. I walked over to the window and stared outside, trying to clear my head. The sun was shining, and everything looked so… normal. But nothing about today felt normal.
My phone's ringing tone snapped me out of my daze, reminding the kids to focus once again, I headed for my desk drawer. I took a glance to make sure the kids were still focused, then opened it. It was a message from Mom: Everything's fine here. Don't worry about the sign. Take care of yourself. I sighed. Of course, she'd say that.
She was always trying to make me feel better, but I knew how much that sign meant to her—and me. It was one of the last things Dad built before he passed. And now it was hanging on by a thread, thanks to some rich guy in a fancy car who didn't know how to drive carefully on narrow streets.
Focus, June, I told myself. Get through the rest of the day, and then you can deal with everything else. I focused once more on my students.
I heard the bell ring, signaling the end of the school day, the students packed up their things and rushed out of the classroom, leaving me in blessed silence. I took a deep breath, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease just a little. But before I could relish the quiet, there was a knock at the door. I turned to see Michael Stahom standing in the doorway.
My stomach dropped." Ms. Skylar, right?" he asked, stepping into the room like he owned the place. I could feel my pulse quicken, anger bubbling up inside me all over again."Mr. Stahom," I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. "What are you doing here?" "I came to apologize properly," he said, his tone maddeningly calm. "I don't think I conveyed it well enough earlier, with the whole sign incident."I crossed my arms, leaning back against my desk. "You think?"
He looked around the classroom, taking in the colorful posters and the rows of empty desks. His presence felt too big for the room like he was out of place. "I know I messed up. And I'm serious about covering the cost of the repairs.
But I also wanted to make sure you're okay… and your mom."I raised an eyebrow. "You care about that now?"He had the nerve to chuckle. "Yes, I do. I wouldn't have come otherwise."
I didn't know whether to believe him or not. Part of me wanted to throw him out of the room, but another part was intrigued by the fact that he was here at all. Most people like him—rich, entitled—would've sent a check and been done with it."We're fine,"
I said, not quite meeting his eyes. "My mom is tough, and I can handle things. But that sign…" My voice trailed off before I could stop myself."
I know it meant something to you," he said, surprising me. "More than just a piece of wood. I get that now. Look, if there's anything else I can do to make this right—" "There's nothing you can do," I interrupted, cutting him off. "The sign is broken. It won't be the same, no matter how much money you throw at it."
He took a step closer, his expression softening. "I didn't mean to disrespect you or your family. I am sorry." I looked up at him, my defenses wavering. For a moment, I could see past the polished exterior, and he seemed… genuine. But before I could say anything else, my phone buzzed again.
It was a reminder about jury duty. I groaned inwardly. Michael must have noticed the shift in my expression. "Something else on your mind?" I hesitated for a second before deciding to be honest. "Jury duty. I got summoned, and it's the last thing I need right now." Jury duty?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "That sounds… inconvenient."
"Tell me about it." He smiled slightly as if understanding my frustration. "Well, good luck with that." He pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to me. "Here. In case you need anything concerning the sign. Or anything else." I stared at the card for a second before taking it. "Thanks, I guess."
Michael nodded, then turned to leave. "Take care, Ms. Skylar." As he walked out of the classroom, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the last I'd see of him. And part of me—though I hated to admit it—wasn't entirely opposed to that idea.
When I got home, the apartment was quiet, save for the sound of Samantha humming in the kitchen. She was already in her comfy clothes, a glass of wine in hand, and boxes of pizza on the table.
I stared at the jury duty letter lying on the coffee table between the pizza boxes. I had tried to ignore it all day, but it was becoming clear that there was no escaping it. I picked up the envelope again, reluctantly tearing it open to review the details.
Samantha, now sipping her wine and scrolling through her phone, glanced at me over the rim of her glass."So," she said, clearly enjoying my frustration a little too much, "when are we due for this civic nightmare?"
I unfolded the letter, scanning it. My eyes found the date quickly. "Next Wednesday," I said, groaning. "Just when I thought the week couldn't get any worse. We have to show up at 8 AM."
Samantha raised an eyebrow. "8 AM? Ugh, why are they so cruel?" She sighed dramatically. "Who even functions that early? It's like they're punishing us for existing."
"Welcome to adult life, Sam," I said, rolling my eyes. "First you have to survive your job, and then, just when you think you've earned a weekend off, the judicial system comes knocking." Samantha chuckled, tossing her phone onto the couch beside her.
"Yeah, well, at least we're going through this together. If nothing else, we can swap horror stories about the whole process when it's over."I shifted to the couch, I sat down pulling my legs up beneath me as I leaned against the armrest. "What if we get picked? Like, what if they want us on the jury? You've seen how these trials can drag on for weeks. I can't afford to miss that much time at school. And the bakery... I can't just leave my mom to deal with everything."
Samantha leaned back, stretching out her legs. "Relax, June. You're jumping ahead. We still have to go through voir dire. They're going to ask us a ton of questions to figure out if we're biased or not. And honestly, you're a teacher. You're probably the least biased person on the planet."
"Yeah, but what about you?" I teased, nudging her with my foot. "I can already see you trying to get out of it. Knowing you, you'll probably start spouting conspiracy theories just to throw them off."
She snorted, nearly spilling her wine.
"Please, you know I'm way too charming to get dismissed that easily. Besides, I'm genuinely curious to see how this whole thing plays out. I mean, we could end up in some high-profile cases. You never know."I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling.
"Yeah, I'm sure our sleepy little town is brimming with scandalous legal drama." Samantha grinned. "A girl can dream. Anyway, look on the bright side: we get to dress up for court. Imagine all the courtroom fashion possibilities."
I raised an eyebrow, smirking that only Samantha would think of fashion possibilities in being part of a jury.
"You mean we're supposed to show up looking like Elle Woods?"
Samantha put on her best faux-serious face, placing her hand over her heart. "Exactly. It's our civic duty to serve looks and justice. But mostly looks." I laughed, feeling the weight of the day slowly begin to lift.
Somehow, Samantha always knew how to take a stressful situation and make it lighter. "Well, if they pick us, at least I'll have you there to keep me sane." She raised her glass. "To civic duty—and pizza. May both be over quickly."
I clinked my slice of pizza against her glass, grateful that even with all the chaos of the day, I had Samantha to come home to. As we dug into the pizza, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—work, the ridiculous behavior of some of our neighbors, and, of course, our favorite trashy TV shows. But in the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the feeling that jury duty was going to be more than just an inconvenience.
Once we'd polished off the pizza, I sat back on the couch, feeling a little more settled. The events of the day, though still lingering in my mind, weren't as overwhelming now. Michael's apology at school, the broken sign, jury duty—everything could wait.
Right now, I just wanted to enjoy the few hours of peace I had before diving back into the chaos tomorrow. Samantha stood up, stretching as she yawned. "I'm gonna head to bed early tonight. You good, babe?" "Yeah, I think I'm just going to relax for a bit before I crash too," I replied, pulling the throw blanket over my lap.
"Thanks for the pep talk earlier. I needed it." "Always, babe," she said with a wink. "Don't stress too much about jury duty. We'll handle it when we get there."
As she disappeared into her room, I was left alone in the living room, the quiet enveloping me. I grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, trying to find something mindless to watch. My thoughts kept drifting back to the jury duty letter and everything that was coming next.
I wasn't looking forward to standing in front of a judge, answering questions about my biases, and being evaluated on whether or not I'd be a good juror. I wasn't even sure what I'd say. Did I want to be dismissed? Or was this some weird sign that I needed to experience something new, something outside of my routine? The thought lingered in my mind as I mindlessly scrolled through the channels.
Eventually, I turned off the TV and retreated to my room, feeling the weight of the day's exhaustion settle over me. The bed felt like a refuge as I crawled under the covers, letting my body finally relax. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the thoughts of jury duty, the sign, and even Michael, why he was on my mind was beyond me.
But sleep didn't come as easily as I hoped. Instead, my mind wandered back to Michael's visit earlier that day. I could still see his face, that mix of guilt and charm as he apologized. Part of me wanted to believe he was sincere, but another part of me couldn't shake the feeling that he was used to getting what he wanted with money. And I wasn't going to be another problem he could solve with a check. I sighed, flipping onto my side. Maybe tomorrow will bring some clarity. For now, I just needed to sleep.