Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jif breathed a deep sigh of relief as she turned out the lights in her classroom and hefted the last box of supplies onto her hip.
The final few chaotic weeks of school always tested her perseverance and patience, especially after state testing finished.
The kids checked out, and no matter how interesting she made the lessons, she could never quite recapture their attention, slogging through the days until they reached the middle of June.
Fortunately, Miles brought Nix back to say goodbye during the last week of school, so she had one less hour of time to plan and fill.
Her principal, Lauren, stopped into the classroom, as well, and was impressed at both Nix and the calm demeanor of the kids.
Instead of squeals of excitement, they’d spoken quietly, asked before touching the dog, and taken turns between the reading nook, the activity centers, and the community carpet.
“I wish I had a Nix in every classroom,” she joked, but with the way her eyes lingered on Hannah as she lay on the floor beside the dog, Jif wouldn’t be surprised if Miles had invitations to visit more classrooms next year.
Jif made a mental note to warn Abby, not sure if her friend would be thrilled at extending her reach or horrified she’d have to find a way to incorporate a classroom division.
She chucked the box into the back of her car and swiped some stray hairs out of her eyes.
With the summer humidity, it didn’t matter how much product she applied, five minutes outside, and the strands curled and frizzed like a halo around her face, catching on her lips and in her lashes, tickling her ears and her neck.
Next to her, Dana slammed her trunk closed. “Phew! Done. My room is always so empty and depressing at the end of the year.”
“Agreed!” Jif raked her hair into a ponytail, tired of battling flyaways. “Any exciting plans for the summer?”
“My in-laws have a place on Martha’s Vineyard, so Brad and I are headed up there for the Fourth of July with the kids.” She leaned against her car. “You?”
Jif pulled her back gate closed with a definitive thunk, then leaned a hip on the fender.
Summer parties and a never-ending string of fundraising events beckoned during her holiday, but she’d start by sleeping late every morning, then spending her spare moments with Miles.
As much as she could, anyway. He only had a few more weeks until his CPAT, and every day he spent more and more time at the gym.
His single-minded pursuit was a lot like football season: week after week of grinding practices, away games, and catching up on sleep in between two-a-days and flights. She’d managed it with Jordan; she could manage until Miles passed his fitness test.
“Not too much. I’m helping my brother plan an event next month.” Well, she always had, before, but Colton still hadn’t forgiven her for the dust-up between Donte and Corey. They’d both attended a couple parties since then, and he’d barely acknowledged her at any of them.
“Ooh, sounds fancy.”
“Want to come?” The invitation slipped out before she caught herself.
Aside from Britt, who’d been her friend since college, she’d kept her teacher circles strictly separated from her football circles.
She’d always told herself they wouldn’t have anything in common, but with the new introspection that spending time with Miles had instilled in her, she wondered if her—not jealousy, per se—but, okay, maybe jealousy of Britt and Garrett had shone a light on a part of herself she didn’t love seeing.
She had a competitive streak, and she didn’t like sharing, as Britt had said.
“Really?” Dana’s face glowed. “Like a date night? We could get dressed up, get a babysitter...”
Jif grinned back. “And it has an open bar! I’ll get you on the list as soon as I get home.”
Even if it meant calling Colton.
“Thank you so much, Jif,” Dana squealed. “I can’t wait to tell Brad.”
Still smiling as she pulled into traffic, Jif braced herself, then told her phone to call her brother.
It rang three times, fuzzy and rough through the car’s speakers, then clicked.
“What?”
Jif flinched. Yep, apparently still mad. “Do you want my help for your scholarship event or not?”
“I’m not sure...”
Jif’s heart fell. Planning the Pritchard Scholarship Fund Gala had been her job since the moment Colton had settled on it as his charity.
While he cared deeply for the students it benefited, only her party-planning skills had allowed him to rake in enough money to double his initial prospectus in less than three years.
Would he be angry enough to deny her help planning his signature event...
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, the words more a last-ditch effort to mend fences than true or authentic.
Maybe she hadn’t handled the situation with Corey exactly right, but at no point had her mistakes made his behavior okay, and Colton should back her up, not defend his teammate.
Her stomach turned over, the dissonance between her words and her thoughts tangling in her gut.
But maybe if she could explain herself, he wouldn’t fire her. Or whatever you called it when you told your sister you didn’t want her help on the fundraiser she practically co-hosted with you every year.
“I really didn’t mean to make a mess of things. I didn’t want to make waves with Corey. You have to play with him. And then Donte... I never imagined he’d take it so far...”
Then again, he’d said he had a sister, so maybe Colton had been wrong, after all. If Donte would throw down for a friend, shouldn’t Colton be willing to do as much, if not more, for his own sibling?
Colton huffed, and Jif pictured him raking a hand through his hair. “You should have told me.”
“Told you?” Jif couldn’t quite comprehend Colton’s words.
Told him what?
“About Corey. I’d’a punched him myself and saved Donte doing my dirty work.”
Stunned into silence, Jif didn’t notice she’d drifted into the next lane until a car horn blared almost in her ear.
Jerking the wheel, she swallowed.
“Where are you? Are you driving? What happened?”
“Chill. I’m fine.” Her hands only trembled a little as she recentered herself in the lane. “Where are you? Your voice is echoey.”
“At the stadium.” The words clipped out, normal again, as if he’d been in a hallway or the tunnel and had come back out, but his tone still sounded off.
“Conditioning?”
He ignored her question. “About the gala...”
“We should do it at the Carnegie Ballroom. We almost maxed out the Hilton last year, and the carpets were a little threadbare at Jackson’s event.”
“I’m not sure...”
“We can use the same caterer; they did great, and I think they provide bar staff, so we won’t need to hire anyone separately.”
“Jif.”
“C’mon, Colton. I’m good at this, and I want to help,” Jif pleaded. “I’ll set up a tour for next week. You won’t have to do anything, I promise.”
Colton didn’t answer, and Jif flicked her turn signal to the right, the click filling the silence. He couldn’t be mad about the whole thing with Corey forever, right? Especially not since he’d said he’d have punched him, which...yeah, still processing that.
When he finally spoke, his voice echoed again. “Fine. You have access to my calendar. Schedule something, and I’ll meet you there.”