Chapter 4
four
CHRISTY
Ipressed my hands against the edge of the desk and rolled my neck to the right.
I’d slept like crap last night. And the night before.
Pretty much every night since I’d found out Silas was hired as my assistant principal.
Gotten myself all riled up, and lost five pounds from the anxiety for nothing.
Because I should’ve known Silas wouldn’t be a jerk about it.
He was too classy for that. He’d walked into the front office this morning, wearing khakis, a white shirt, a Stallions blue tie, and an expression that said, “This is gonna suck. Let’s do it. ”
When two pregnant girls had started duking it out in the lunchroom, I’d stepped between them and gotten kicked in the thigh.
But Silas had come to the rescue, long legs hauling it across the massive room, pushing through the crowd, and yanking them apart.
Why on earth would two expectant females endanger their babies in a brawl?
Because they found out they had the same baby daddy. I shook my head just thinking about it.
And when two ninth-graders ended up in my office for drawing male reproductive parts on each other’s worksheets, and I thought my mind might explode from the idiocy, Silas, in a moment of genius, made each boy call his mother and explain precisely why he was getting in-school suspension for three days.
I’d never enjoyed watching two teenage boys squirm more in my life.
But we were only on the third day of school. If it kept up at this pace, this year might be the death of me. I rolled my head in the other direction, trying to work the kink out.
“Principal Thornbury?” Silas’s baritone voice brought me up. He was standing in my office doorway.
“Yes, Assistant Principal Dupree?” I snorted. “That’s a mouthful and I hope you don’t expect me to call you that all year. Because, just no.”
There was a whisper of a smile at the corners of his mouth. He stepped forward, straight-faced, looking down at me. I gulped but forced my neck to crane so I could meet his gaze. Then he lifted his fist and smiled. “Good work today, Christy. We might not screw this up after all.”
I bumped his knuckles. “Oh, we’re going to rock this, Silas. Even if it’s by sheer willpower.”
Our hands dropped to our sides and he stepped back.
He stood there for a second, expressionless, and I held my breath, waiting for the question I knew was coming.
It was in his eyes, the purse of his lips, on the edge of his tongue. He opened his mouth, and I hurled the answer toward him. “I didn’t do it for you, okay?”
He bit his lips, staring at me.
I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. “I mean, yes, originally I applied for a teaching job at the middle school because I hoped we would work out. But things kind of spiraled when they realized I had a master’s in administration.
Obviously, they were desperate. But I didn’t take the job because of you. ”
There was a beat of silence and then he simply said, “Okay.”
I opened my eyes to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, waiting for me to go on.
I shrugged. “I needed space from…Laramie.” I hated admitting that but he knew all too well what things were like for me back home.
“I’m not planning to stay here forever. But the thought of not having to deal with that…
” My hand pointed behind me, to the west. “Believe it or not…being here”—with you married—“is more appealing than being there.” It was true.
Living in Laramie, post-Silas, would give me nothing but more heartache.
My mom…my sisters…they’d never let me forget that I’d failed to land yet another man.
His head tilted, pity in his expression. “Christy.” His voice was full of compassion and I’d never wanted it from anyone less.
I held my hands up. “Don’t. Please, don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t take that.”
We stood there for two seconds. Then he nodded and took a step back.
“All right. Well, unless you need anything else from me, I’m going to head out.
” To see my hot wife. He didn’t need to say the words.
They were written in the sparkle of his eyes that he was trying, and failing miserably, to hide.
He’d probably been counting the minutes all day.
I scowled. “You’re not coming to Anna’s game?”
“Not this time. We’ve got our grand opening for The Upward Dog this weekend and we’re scrambling to get the bathrooms finished.
We’ll be pounding it out every night this week.
” I’d heard through the grapevine—i.e., Mrs. Ross, an English teacher—that “The Duprees,” as she’d called Silas and Lemon, were opening a new gym here.
Maybe I’d get a membership and work out at two a.m. when I’d never run into either of them.
“My parents are covering for us this time.” He cracked his thumb knuckle. “And Holden.”
I choked. On absolutely nothing. I put a fist to my mouth, trying to cough it out.
But I choked again. Silas had told me this morning that Anna’s custody hearing had been on Friday.
Which explained why Holden had been at the volleyball meeting on Thursday afternoon.
But I’d assumed he’d be back in DC by now.
And now I had to coach a sport I knew nothing about right in front of him?
Silas stood there, watching me gasp for air, wearing an amused expression. I grabbed my water bottle and took a long draw through the straw, my face flaming.
He stepped toward the door. “Anyway. Good luck, Coach.” He lifted his hand in a wave.
“Wait.” I held up a finger and walked behind my desk to grab the box I’d spent way too much time wrapping ever so carefully yesterday afternoon.
I was proud of that flower-bow. It had taken three tries.
And I’d shed a tear or two while I was making it.
You know, like you do when you’re wrapping a wedding gift for the man you thought you’d be marrying.
Most people would say the best gift you could give an ex is your absence. But obviously, that wasn’t an option. And since we were going to work in close proximity, daily, I needed to do this. It was my metaphorical burning of the ex-boyfriend’s things and a peace treaty, all rolled into one.
And yes, it killed me to hand it to him, but I did it anyway, determined to move past this.
He eyed it like it might grow fangs at any second.
“It’s a wedding gift.” I gulped. “For you and Lemon.”
More silent gaping.
I held my hands up. “Don’t worry. It’s not a glitter bomb or a defecated litter box with your name on the side or anything.”
He shook his head and laughed.
I tugged on the hem of my blouse. “It’s something off your registry.
” An expensive enamelwear dutch oven that I would’ve liked to own.
It had cost a pretty penny, but I’d gotten a signing bonus as principal and thought it only fitting since I never would’ve heard of Seddledowne if it weren’t for Silas.
More staring. And uncomfortable silence.
“Gah.” My hands pressed to my cheeks. “You’re reading too much into it. Just…congrats…good luck. All of that.”
His eyes turned down, a hint of sadness there. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I held up my hands. “I know, and I didn’t do it for a thank-you.
I’m not trying to get anything out of you.
I just thought since we’re going to be working together, living in the same small town…
” I clenched my fists. “I know I’ve invaded your turf here.
Put us both in an uncomfortable situation…
it only seemed right. And I do hope that you’ll have a happy life together.
” I almost meant that last line. I would get there. Eventually.
He was quiet for a second and then he said, barely above a whisper, “Well. That was nice of you. I’m sure Clem will love it, whatever it is.
Thanks.” He made no move to leave, like maybe since I’d given him a present, I expected him to hang around and do our nails together, talk about cute boys and all that.
“You’re welcome.” I nodded. “You can stop standing there, making it awkward.” I laughed. He laughed. “Just take your gift and go.” My stupid, shaky voice betrayed me.
But he nodded and finally walked away.
I shut the door behind him and fell against it, my hands trembling. One day down. One hundred and seventy-six to go.
I quickly changed from my pantsuit into a pair of black leggings, a blue fitted T-shirt—that was the closest thing to school colors that I owned—and the white and royal blue Seddledowne Stallions athletic jacket Mr. Alvarez had eagerly let me borrow from the athletics closet.
Being at the game was just a formality. I wouldn’t be coaching on my own today.
Didn’t know enough yet to lead in any way.
Coach Byrd had promised he’d be right there, showing me the ropes, calling all the shots.
But he didn’t expect me to head anything up at this point.
Had I spent my weekend watching match after match of college volleyball?
Absolutely. But one weekend of watching videos does not a coach make.
When I entered the gym, the scorekeeper’s table was set up. The girls had raised the net and the JV team was practicing their serves. The varsity girls were spread out on the bleachers, braiding hair and working on homework assignments. I scanned the room for Coach Byrd but he was nowhere.
I walked over to Anna and Brooklyn, both with Dutch braids, laughing as they hit a ball back and forth. “Have you guys seen Coach Byrd?”
“He’s sick. He’s not coming.” Brooklyn shrugged as if this was the most boring thing she’d learned today.
I swallowed. Um. “What? Are you serious?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sure enough, he’d texted three whole minutes ago, letting me know. I stifled a groan.
Anna grimaced, looking as sick as I felt. “I think he ate the creamed spinach from the cafeteria.” She shivered.