Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“About me and what coach?” I asked, barely keeping my temper in check.
We had seven sports at the school and though I knew exactly the coach she meant, getting confirmation was always better than confirming the wrong information. Not that there was anything to confirm.
“Come on,” she said, poking me with her elbow. “If you and Trey are trying to be discreet, you’re failing miserably.”
“There’s nothing to be discreet about. I can barely tolerate the man.”
The line moved and we all stepped forward.
“He isn’t so bad,” Megan said. “I like that he has a happy puppy vibe about him.”
“A happy bald puppy,” Pepper said with a laugh.
“There are worse things than being bald,” I cut in, mouth way ahead of my brain. I had zero reason to defend Trey Collins or his lack of hair. None of which was the point of this conversation. “What are people saying about us?”
“Just that there appears to be a budding romance.” The last was said with an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle.
The eyebrows needed to stand down. “Where would anyone get that idea?”
She shrugged. “He comes to your rehearsals after football practice, and you two were seen talking together, looking very cozy, in his pickup truck. I mean, if you don’t want people to know, you probably shouldn’t have little meet-ups in the school parking lot.”
We were not having little meet-ups .
“Coach Collins comes to rehearsals because he has players in the production. The only reason I was in his truck was because I locked my keys in my car and he wouldn’t let me wait for the locksmith out in the cold.” In all my years at Carnegie High, I’d never been the subject of school gossip, and I would not be gossiped about now. “Whoever is spreading these rumors needs to get their stories straight, and if anyone has questions, they can come to me instead of making up crap behind my back.”
Pepper held up her hands. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Why else would you finally be at a football game unless the rumors were true?”
“Because I teach these kids and I’m here to root them on for a championship.” I really hoped championship was the right word. “I assure you my being here has absolutely nothing to do with Trey Collins.”
“He did give us the tickets,” Megan mumbled.
“Irrelevant,” I growled back.
“I’m sorry,” Pepper said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “You’re right that people shouldn’t make assumptions. At least now you know what people are saying.”
“What people, Pepper? Who did you hear it from?”
Suddenly unable to stand still, she said, “It’s just going around. Mostly in the lounge, but some students have noticed, too.”
“There’s nothing to notice.”
“You’re right. People see what they want to see, I guess.” With a nervous laugh she looked past us and waved at someone. “I should go. Enjoy the rest of the game.”
As the choir director melted into the crowd Megan said, “I think you scared her.”
“Good,” I grumbled. “I don’t like being the subject of gossip. Especially when it’s something so outrageous.”
We moved with the line again. “Would you and Trey really be so outrageous? Two single, attractive people with a passion for teaching, and like it or not, he’s into you. Do you really think he’s coming to all of those rehearsals for his players?”
“Why else would he be there?”
She gave me droll look. “He’s there because you’re there, Lindsey.”
No way. “You can’t know that.”
“Yes, I can.” The couple in front of us strolled to the counter, leaving us next in line. “He spends a lot of time with the guys, and he isn’t keeping his feelings for you a secret.”
“How could he have feelings for me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“Apparently, he knows you well enough.”
“Can I help the next person, please?” called a parent from the concession stand. A familiar face to which I couldn’t put a name smiled as we approached. “Hello, Ms. Pavolski. I’ve never seen you at a game before.”
“We’ve never been up for a championship before,” I said with more force than necessary. Softening my voice, I added, “I’m here to support the students.”
“The boys are grateful for all the support they can get. This Bishop Masscio team has gone to state five years in a row. I hope we can pull off this win.”
“I’m sure they can,” Megan said. “Carnegie is undefeated and no doubt they’ll end the season that way.”
A crazy thought considering the last time we had a winning football season, I was in my first year of teaching.
“Our fingers are crossed,” the mom said. “They’ve promised a new practice field and new training facilities in the near future.”
Whoever they were had clearly not looked at the budget. If the school couldn’t afford my measly drama program, there was definitely no funding for all of that.
Megan put our order in for five hot chocolates, two hot dogs, and a box of popcorn. Donna and Josie needed to show up soon. They’d taken a side trip to the ladies’ room, but were supposed to meet us to help carry everything back. Becca opted to stay under the blankets, but we all knew that as soon as we walked away she’d called her mom to check on Noah.
“Let me get you a carrier.” The parent scurried down to the end of the counter before returning and filling the brown container with four drinks. “We can slide a hot dog in the middle here.”
Megan dropped the second foil-wrapped hot dog into her pocket, and picked up the last drink and popcorn.
“That’s twenty-five dollars.”
Hands full, Megan turned her hip my way. “My card is in my purse.”
I waved the words away. “The guys gave me cash.” Pulling the wad of money from my coat pocket, I counted out the requested amount and handed it over. “That should do it.”
“Thank you,” she said. “And thank you for getting Cassidy’s head out of her games and into a book. She reads them on her phone, so there’s still screen time, but I’d rather her be reading than whatever it is she does on that Switch.”
That was how I knew her. Cassidy Bitterman was a junior in my World Lit class. “I’m glad she’s enjoying the stories. She’s a fun student to have.”
Items in hand, we maneuvered our way out of the crowd and headed back to our seats. Along the way, I caught more than one student giving me a curious glance before turning to whisper to a friend. In most cases, when you thought someone was talking about you, odds were they never even noticed you. However, in this instance, I couldn’t help but feel like the center of attention and the experience was not a comfortable one.
Chatter among the teachers was one thing. Students gossiping was another entirely.
“Let me get that,” Donna said taking the drink tray as she and Josie met us behind the stands. “The line for the bathroom was super long.”
I reached to take the lone hot chocolate from Megan, but she pulled the drink back and shoved the popcorn forward. “Uh uh. The cup is keeping my hand warm.”
Fair enough. I took the popcorn at the same time that Josie lifted two hot chocolates to lighten the tray for Donna. “Did you have enough money?” she asked.
“More than enough.”
“You missed Lindsey scaring the crap out of another teacher,” Megan said. “Though she sort of had it coming.”
“What happened?” Josie asked.
With a heavy eye roll, I said, “I could have done worse than scare her. People shouldn’t be spreading rumors, or believing them.”
“Rumors?” Donna repeated.
“About Lindsey and Trey. People are assuming they’re an item.”
Josie snorted. “Someone had the nerve to repeat that in front of you?”
“They think her being at the game is confirmation.” Megan took a left to climb the stairs into the grandstand. “I can see the assumptions, but all they had to do was ask her and they’d know.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” You’d think these people had never met me before.
By the time we reached our seats, the second half was about to start.
“Where are the guys?” Megan asked as she handed Becca a hot chocolate and sat down beside her.
She pointed toward the field. “Down there talking to Trey.”
As if they could hear us, the guys turned and all gave a wave. There was no mistaking that Trey was waving at me. Pretending I didn’t notice, I took extra time to straighten the blanket over our laps.
“Come on, Linds,” Becca said. “You could wave back.”
“Not a good idea,” Megan said before I could answer. “There are rumors going around.”
“Rumors?” Becca said. “What rumors?”
Josie leaned close and lowered her voice. “People think Lindsey and Trey are dating.”
“That’s cu…” Becca started until I leaned forward and gave her a look of death, “…kind of messed up? Where would they get that idea?”
“Making ridiculous assumptions.” I glanced up to see Trey watching me, one brow arched high and a crooked grin on his lips. “He can stop grinning like that. I’m not waving.”
“Can I wave at Ryan?” Megan asked.
“Go for it.”
Thankfully, the guys came back up as Trey was forced to return his attention to the job he was here to do and not on annoying me and giving the gossipers more to talk about. Which made me wonder. Did he know about these rumors?
Or worse, did he have something to do with them? Surely not. But what if…
The next thing I knew, the ball was in the air and the teams were colliding again. The boys managed to keep the lead through the third and most of the fourth quarter, until Bishop Masscio finally got on the board. After that, they did something Megan called an on-side kick and within two minutes, the other team scored again.
The atmosphere in the stadium took a nose dive when our quarterback threw an interception almost as soon as we had the ball back. Poor Griffin. He was never going to forgive himself. Despite the crowd doing everything in the last two minutes to loudly will them to victory, Carnegie High lost the game ten to seven.
I couldn’t help but feel bad for them. Even Trey. I wasn’t completely heartless, after all. But they still had a season to be proud of. A few of the boys were visibly crying on their way to the locker room, and even I had to brush away a tear. As much as sports seemed utterly meaningless to me, it meant a lot to these kids, and seeing them lose after such a hard battle broke my heart.
“I can’t believe they lost,” Megan muttered as we gathered up the blankets and our empty cups. “And so close to the end like that.”
“A heartbreaking loss,” Jacob said. “Griffin is going to have a rough week.”
“He’s such a sweet kid.” I grabbed the empty popcorn box. “No one can be perfect all the time.”
“That was in the clutch, though,” Ryan said. “He’ll be thinking about that throw when he’s forty.”
“I doubt it.”
He turned my way with a serious expression. “Senior year. Ninth inning with two outs. We were down by one with a runner on second, and I struck out to end the game. I still have nightmares about that last pitch.”
Turning to Megan, I said, “Is he exaggerating?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
The crowd was subdued as we all made our way to the parking lots. After every home game, the boosters sold burgers and fries in the school cafeteria as a fundraiser, and anyone who wanted to drop by could eat and celebrate the team. I had to assume those cafeteria tables would be empty tonight.
“We’ll see you at the school,” Jacob said, as we veered in different directions to our cars. Josie and Miles had ridden with him and Becca, while Donna and I tagged along with Megan and Ryan.
I saw no reason to go back to the school since the last thing these boys needed was to face a cafeteria full of disappointed faces.
“Do we have to go?” I asked.
My fellow teacher spun so fast Josie nearly ran into him. “Of course, we have to go. Those boys need our support.”
“They need to be able to shower and go home. What are people going to do? Pat them on the back and tell them better luck next time?”
“For some of them there won’t be a next time,” Ryan pointed out.
“Exactly,” I thought. Why make them feel worse?
“Wouldn’t not going be meaner?” Donna asked. “As if we only support them when they win?”
Maybe it was just me, but I’d rather wallow in defeat alone than walk the gauntlet of a full cafeteria. Still, she had a point. “I’m just a passenger. If yinz want to go, then we’ll go.”
Subject settled, we made the drive in silence, at least in Ryan’s car. I stared out the window, feeling sadder than expected. The boys really wanted that win, and I wanted it for them. Normally, I’d say it’s just a meaningless game. But not this time.
And then I found myself wondering how Trey felt. He’d taken them so far. Turned around the whole program, really. Was he taking it badly? Did he feel responsible? Was he second-guessing the decisions he made?
Hopefully not.
We found ourselves six seats together in the packed cafeteria, forcing the guys to take turns between sitting and standing. The atmosphere was somber, as expected, yet louder than I liked. A buzz went through the room that the boys were back and cleaning up in the locker room.
After opting out on a burger, I sat quietly, picking up on various conversations going on around us. A lot of armchair coaching was in the air, as if these parents and grandparents could have done a better job. What total bull. Trey’s coaching didn’t lose them the game.
Granted, I knew little about the sport, or the screen this and roll out that the guy next to me kept droning on about, but there was no way Trey led this team to seven straight wins only to be blamed for the one loss.
“Have you ever coached a football team?” I asked, unable to hold my tongue.
The older gentleman took a second to realize I was speaking to him. Brow furrowed, he turned my way. “No, I’m not a coach.”
“Then you aren’t qualified to criticize Coach Collins, are you?”
“Linds,” Donna whispered.
“I’m not criticizing the coach,” the man defended. “I was only saying if they did a few things differently the boys could have won.”
“That’s called criticizing. I can show you the definition if you’d like.”
“Excuse us,” Donna said, before tugging me out of my seat and away from the table.
“Where are we going?”
She cleared a path amazingly well. “You need some fresh air.”
“I need that man to shut up, is what I need.”
We breezed through the back doors of the school, and Donna kept going until we were at the far end of the portico. Spinning she said, “What’s wrong with you?”
Me? “There’s nothing wrong with me. Didn’t you hear that guy?”
Arms crossed, she watched me with narrowed eyes. “Do you like Trey or not?”
Where did that come from? “This isn’t seventh grade, Donna. What do you mean do I like him?”
“I’m trying to understand what’s going on.”
“Going on with what?”
“You. One minute you claim you want nothing to do with him, and the next you’re ready to fight an opinionated old man on his behalf. Which is it? Because we both know you only defend people you care about, and that was a quick defense of a man you very loudly and very frequently claim not to like.”
I didn’t only defend people I cared about. I defended people who needed defending. Not that Trey couldn’t defend himself, if that blowhard ever had the guts to say those things to his face, but he didn’t and I heard them so I stepped up. For a coworker.
“All I did was put the guy in his place. It’s not like I challenged him to a duel. Pistols at dawn on the school lawn or something less poetic.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she said, gaze locked on mine. “We’ve all respected your non-dating stance, but this guy is becoming a friend and none of us want to see him jerked around. We also don’t want you to miss out on something out of sheer stubbornness.”
“I’m not missing out on anything, least of all a man.”
Donna pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re so freaking stubborn.” Dropping her hands to her sides, she said, “You absolutely do not need a man to be happy and fulfilled. That’s a fact.”
Finally. “Thank you.”
“At the same time,” she went on, “if we’re lucky, there are opportunities for extra happiness that come our way, and before you know it you’re happier than you ever imagined.”
This always happened when another one of them paired up.
“I get it,” I said. “You’re in love and it’s warped your brain and now you want everyone else to feel all mushy and gooey on the inside, just like you do. That’s a sweet idea. Really. But I don’t want a man. Any man.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not any man. One man. That’s all I’m suggesting. Maybe it’s time to take off the blinders and think with your heart instead of your head for once. I don’t believe you dislike him as much as you claim, hon, and it would be a shame to deprive yourself of something really good because you were too stubborn to take a chance.”
“I’m not?—”
“Are you okay?” a voice cut in. I spun to find Trey holding the door open. “Oh, hi, Donna. I didn’t see you over there. I thought Lindsey was out here by herself.”
“No problem,” she said walking toward the door. “I was going inside anyway.” Stepping around me, she whispered, “Talk to him.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but Trey held the door open wider and she disappeared inside. Instead of doing the same, he let the door close behind him and stepped out into the cold, looking as kind and puppy-like as ever.
Well, hell .