Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
“We should take her temperature,” Donna said. “See if she has a fever.”
“Maybe she’s been kidnapped and this is a body double,” Josie suggested. “Blink twice if you’re the real Lindsey.”
Megan laughed. “That isn’t how the blink thing works. Check for the birthmark on the back of her neck. I doubt a body double would have that.”
They had all lost their minds.
“Give her a break,” Becca said, zooming a bite of scrambled eggs into Noah’s mouth. “She met a man who likes Jane Austen movies. Who among us could resist that?”
A murmur of agreement went around the table. For a change of pace, we’d met for our girls only—with a baby boy exception—Sunday breakfast at Delta’s Diner. Sometimes straight up eggs and bacon was all you needed.
“Are you guys done?” I asked, unamused.
“Come on.” Josie reached for her orange juice. “You’re dating someone. You can’t pretend this isn’t a big deal.”
Yes, I could. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Answer one question first,” Donna said. “What time did he leave?”
“Two A.M.” Before they could jump to conclusions, I added, “But only because we fell asleep on the couch during the movie. He woke up first, then woke me up, dropped a goodbye kiss on my forehead, and left.”
Megan sighed. “That’s so sweet.”
Much sweeter than I was used to. But speaking of sweet…
“You guys didn’t need to clean my apartment. Trey saw it before we went to dinner, so he knows how messy I am and he didn’t run the other way.”
“We didn’t do it for Trey,” Becca said. “We did it for you.”
“This is play month,” Josie added. “We know how stressed you get this time of year. That was our way of helping to minimize the stress where we could.”
Megan slathered jam across her wheat toast. “The date got you out of the house without one of us having to coax you somewhere. It was perfect timing.”
Did Trey know what they were up to? Was that why he asked me to dinner?
“No,” Donna said, before I could ask. “Trey had no idea, so don’t start thinking the date was a trick. We simply jumped at the opportunity he unknowingly gave us.”
I really did have the best friends a girl could ask for. “I appreciate it. The play still needs a lot of work so that’s all I’ll be thinking about for the next three weeks.”
The performance weekend was coming up fast. Under three weeks, actually. During the last rehearsal we made real progress, which increased my confidence that they could pull this off. The kids were embracing the message behind the play, and that, in turn, would help them convey that message to the audience.
Provided we would have an audience.
“Do you like how it’s going?” asked Megan. “I’m sure it’s odd without the musical aspect. Or maybe that makes it easier?”
“Half of the cast has participated before, but for the other half this is their first time on stage, so it balances out. Emma’s realized that she was relying far too much on her singing chops in the past so this has been an eye opening experience for her. She’s grown a ton, which is what she needed before heading off to college next fall.”
“What about the football players?” Becca asked. “Trey told Jacob they’re doing well, but I’m guessing he’s biased. How are they really doing?”
I loaded a bite of cheesy eggs onto my fork. “He isn’t wrong, actually. Burke’s part is small, but he sells it well. Aiden is a revelation. I wish I’d gotten him on stage three years ago because he’s a complete natural.”
“Do you think he’ll keep acting after this?” Donna asked, snagging Noah’s binky off the floor for the third time. The little man threw anything he could get his chubby little hands on these days.
“I don’t think so, no.” Which was a pity. The young man had a face for the big screen and the chops to back it up. “Kaitlyn has real promise, though, and makes me less stressed about losing Emma at the end of the year. For a freshman, she has stage presence out the wazoo.”
“Does she have a big part?” Donna asked.
“Not a lot of lines, no, but she plays the girl who drives drunk and nearly kills her friend, so it isn’t a lightweight part by any means.”
Josie held her napkin in front of her face to play peek-a-boo with Noah. “What’s it like having input from Trey? His experience must come in handy, too.”
“I’m not sure experience coaching applies to the play much.”
“No,” she said, “his acting experience. He told Miles that he acted in plays the last two years of college.”
Confused, I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth. “I’m sorry, what? Trey acted? The Trey who has come to nearly every rehearsal and never mentioned this?”
The girls exchanged concern-filled glances and Josie lowered the napkin back to her lap. “I think that’s what Miles said, but maybe I misunderstood.”
“Trey better hope so,” I mumbled.
Why wouldn’t he tell me that? The man was a walking open book, but he kept this very pertinent piece of information to himself? Or, worse yet, told one of his poker buddies and not the person he was literally working with on a stage play?
“Maybe we should change the subject,” Donna suggested.
“Noah has a new tooth,” Becca volunteered. “That makes two now, and I can’t wait until the rest come in so we can all sleep at night.”
Having been through this with countless nieces and nephews, I knew that was a pipe dream. “Good luck with that.”
For the rest of breakfast, Trey Collins became he who shall not be named, but I was still annoyed. Part of me wanted to believe that Miles got it wrong, but Josie’s other half was a smart man. What else could Trey have said that sounded remotely like I acted in college ?
We’d exchanged numbers on Friday, so I could send a text demanding answers, but this was a conversation to have in person. And have it we would.
Monday was a hectic day that started with a frantic hunt for my keys, which were hanging on my little key hook thingy where I never put them. This was why cleaning and organizing did more harm than good for me. My mess might look like chaos to others, but it made total sense to me.
This meant I was running late, but my gas tank was nearly on E so I had to stop for gas. I made it in time for first period, but barely. The day didn’t improve, and by lunch time I was convinced the planets must have hit some odd alignment because the students were distracted and moody, no one made the coffee in the lounge, and even Nina Mathers, who was typically the sunniest person in the building, snapped at me when I asked if Carole was in.
She wasn’t and I didn’t ask any more questions.
None of this made me forget about Trey’s possible acting revelation. Though he’d left a sticky note on my desk simply saying Good morning and had waved once when our eyes met across the hall during a class change, we’d yet to speak since he left my apartment late Saturday night.
Or, technically, early Sunday morning.
I had to admit that the note was sweet enough to make me forget I was annoyed with him for a full four and a half seconds. The gesture even bordered on romantic, which would normally make me nauseous. The lack of nausea proved I was already in deep. That I tucked the note inside my top desk drawer where I would see it every time I needed something revealed exactly how deep.
“Hey there,” Trey said as he strode down the left aisle of the theater. “How was your day?”
Rehearsal didn’t start for another fifteen minutes and the kids had yet to arrive.
Concerned he’d charm me out of asking, I went right to the question. “Did you act in college?”
He paused and did the head tilt. “I’m not sure anyone would call that acting.”
“But you were in plays? You were on a stage and didn’t tell me?”
The smile never faltered. “I took up space, more like. Junior year, they needed someone to wear the uniform and deliver a package. I didn’t even have a line. Senior year, I pushed a cart across the stage and got to say ‘Get out of my way’ before disappearing into the wings. Both were done because I liked a girl in the drama program, and she was smart enough to put my devotion to use.”
Unable to quell the curiosity, I asked, “Did you date her?”
Trey shook his head. “Please. She wanted an artist, not a jock shooting above his level.”
Ignoring the relief in my chest, I got back to the point. “But you’ve been part of a production. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Lindsey, I got the parts literally the day before each show and went in with almost no rehearsal. The audience played a bigger part in those shows than I did.” As if sensing my annoyance, he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. The only reason I told Miles was because my helping out with the play came up and he asked if I knew anything about acting.”
“How do you know that’s where I heard about it?”
He leaned close as the kids began to file onto the stage. “Because the guys tell the girls everything, and then you all tell each other what they tell you.”
Tensing, I asked, “Does that bother you?”
His lips curved up in a grin. “Not at all.”
The blush burned my cheeks, forcing me to clear my throat to cover the smile I couldn’t contain.
“You good, Ms. P?” asked Burke.
I coughed one more time while nodding. “I’m fine.”
Looking up, I was surprised to see him carrying Kandace’s bag along with his own before dropping both into the same seat. She tossed a long curl over her shoulder and I feared she might have taken the date his best friend to make him jealous tact, but when she turned Burke’s way, the adoration in her eyes looked quite genuine.
To Trey I whispered, “Did you know about that?”
“No idea,” he whispered back.
Another five minutes passed as the rest of the cast arrived and everyone took a seat on the edge of the stage. There was a low murmur among the group and an unexpected tension in the air. We still had two and a half weeks before dress rehearsals and the nerves didn’t typically set in this early.
Proceeding as usual, I said, “Okay, guys, let’s start by practicing the scene we re-blocked last week.”
No one moved and Emma said, “Are we losing our funding?”
Confused, I shook my head. “What makes you think that?” I knew the threat was there, but how would they know?
“The French club trip to New York got pulled today,” said Madison.
“Our Movie club got shut down entirely,” added Nick.
Last week marked the end of the first quarter, but Carole had given the impression decisions would be made mid-year. Guess that changed.
“I haven’t been told anything,” I said, giving them an honest answer. “No matter what happens, this play will go on. As for after that, all I can promise is that this club will not go down without a fight. I’ll do whatever I can to keep us going, okay?”
Not that I had any idea what I could do if the worst happened. We’d have the profits from this production that might get us through the spring. Especially if we chose a stripped down production that needed very little in the way of sets and wardrobe. Beyond that there wasn’t much I could do without the backing of the school.
The mood remained somber as they rose to get started.
“Do they do that a lot?” Trey said.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Cut funding. Is the school in trouble?”
How did I answer that knowing they’d made him promises that they likely couldn’t keep? I had no desire to be the bearer of bad news, and, quite selfishly, preferred not to give him a reason to look for a new job somewhere else.
“They don’t, no.” Technically, Carole let me know funding was low at the start of the year, but she hadn’t shared details or used the words in trouble . And I couldn’t remember the last time multiple activities were cut like this.
“The kids seem really disappointed,” he said as I pulled the marked-up script from my bag. “Are you worried about being next?”
Flipping through the ear-marked pages was a good excuse not to make eye contact. “Like I said, I’m not giving up this club without a fight. If we can get butts in the seats then hopefully we can fund ourselves for the spring. That’s the focus right now.”
The kids took their places and I headed for the stage with Trey following close behind. He stayed silent for most of rehearsal and I had no idea what was going through his mind. I could only assume he was wondering if the investments in his program were going to happen.
We were all on edge and I didn’t blame him for worrying about the future of his team. But at the same time, in my opinion, academics and art were just as important as athletics, and if we had to take a hit, then so did he. Though in a perfect situation we’d all have the funding we deserved.
That the kids deserved.
Spirits lifted a bit by the end. We were hitting our groove and everyone could feel it. This was when the performing really began. They weren’t just delivering lines. They were acting. During one highly emotional scene, even I found myself tearing up as Kaitlyn put her whole heart into the part.
The kids were drained by the time rehearsal wrapped, but in a good way. This play was going to be good. Possibly our best in years. I couldn’t have been more proud of how far they’d come.
“What if we did a fundraiser?” Trey asked as we walked to the parking lot together.
“For…?”
“The club. What if we raised our own money so they can keep going in the spring?”
The we in that sentence warmed my heart, but if the school pulled the plug on us, we’d need way more money than a bake sale could bring in.
“Sadly, it isn’t that easy. We use the auditorium for free, and I get a discount on purchasing the plays due to the school affiliation. If they cut us off, we’ll have to fully fund every aspect of the production, including not only renting a space to put on the play, but renting that space for rehearsals for up to eight weeks. We could run multiple fundraisers and most likely still come up short.”
“You never know until you try,” said Mr. Pollyanna.
“But I do, actually, and I would never put the kids through that knowing full well we’d all be wasting our time.”
“But we could?—”
“Trey,” I snapped, stopping in the middle of an empty parking space. “I appreciate that you want to help, but this is my club. I wouldn’t come to you and start suggesting how you should run your team so maybe return the favor. And speaking of the team, maybe that’s what you should be worried about right now. You’re in as much danger as the rest of us for funding cuts.”
He ran a hand over his smooth scalp. “I don’t know about that.”
My jaw tightened. “You don’t think you have anything to worry about?”
“I’m just saying that sports don’t usually get cut. At least not the football team.”
This wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Because football is more important than the arts or learning other cultures? How could I forget?” Hefting my bag onto my shoulder, I marched off toward my car.
Trey marched after me. “That’s not what I’m saying. It just is what it is.”
I spun again, forcing him to step to the side to keep from running into me.
“I hate that phrase. When something is crappy, telling another person to deal with it instead of doing something about it is lazy and hypocritical. What if you weren’t the one who’s spoiled rotten and gets everything you want because you teach boys to throw a ball around and try to kill each other? What life skill does that even give them anyway? Get ahead by decimating your opponent? Yeah, that’s how to make the world a better place.”
“I get that losing funding sucks, but you don’t need to take it out on me. I don’t make the decisions, but I’m also not going to pretend that sports don’t carry more weight at a school like this. And since you asked, I don’t just teach boys to throw a ball around. They learn teamwork and humility, gain confidence and are forced to think on the spot. To problem solve in seconds, put the good of the team above their own interests, and understand that the best way to create positive results is to work together. That’s what they take into life, and I’m damn proud of the boys I’ve helped shape into good men.”
“Good men. There’s an oxymoron for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Forget it,” I said, pressing the button to unlock my car. Even I knew when my prejudice went too far, and Trey was right. I shouldn’t be taking my frustrations out on him, despite his representing everything I resented about school culture. The frustration just took over sometimes.
“Not so fast,” he said, swinging the bag off my shoulder and tossing it into the back seat. “Is that what you really think?”
“Let it go, Trey. I’m just annoyed.”
“Annoyed about the funding issues, or annoyed that a man stepped into your territory?”
If he wanted to push this, then fine. Let’s fight.
“I’m annoyed that good kids with interests that don’t involve sports get shorted because athletics get all the money and attention. I’m annoyed that culture and beauty and art are seen as less than when embracing them would make the world a better place. And I’m annoyed that I purposely didn’t tell you about the school budget issues because I was afraid you’d call their bluff and leave town for another job. That’s the part I hate the most. That where you go matters to me.”
“You knew there were funding issues?” he asked, voice low.
“Yes. Carole told me at the start of the year that drama might get cut. I didn’t know anyone else was in danger though.”
“Carole?”
“Principal Fabien. She’s been my sister’s best friend since we were kids so I call her Carole.”
We both fell silent and for the first time I realized the freezing wind blowing around us. The tip of my nose went numb, and I tucked my hands into the pockets of my coat to save my fingers from doing the same.
“So you were afraid I’d leave?” Trey finally said.
Feeling like a giant fool, I kept my eyes on a maple in the distance losing the last of its leaves. I understood exactly how it felt. “Yes.”
With one finger, he gently lifted my chin until our eyes met. “I’m glad that matters to you.”
He didn’t look smug or like a man who’d won a hard-fought victory. Just genuinely happy to hear that I cared about him. That I wanted him in my life, which felt insane and risky and scared the living crap out of me.
Time for more honesty, and he wasn’t going to like this part. “I also care about my club. If I lose that and you get everything you asked for, I’m not sure we can make this work.”
His brow furrowed. “Even though I have nothing to do with that decision?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
After another moment of silence, he opened my car door, dropped a kiss on my forehead, and said, “I understand.”
I couldn’t help but feel like this was a goodbye.
Keeping my eyes down, I climbed into the car and went through the motions of backing out and driving away. I might have been okay if I hadn’t looked in the rearview mirror to see Trey lingering next to the parking spot I’d just left. Watching me go. Making no move to walk to his truck.
I almost turned around and told him we would be fine no matter what happened, but that would be a lie. And lying wouldn’t be good for either one of us. This was for the best.