Page 35 of The Perfect Pass
All the photos had one thing in common: they were heavy on small-town charm. He hadn’t realized wholesomeness was his new “brand,” though. Calling it that felt sort of disingenuous. Cheap, almost.
Calla would’ve rolled her eyes hard at that word.
But outside of a few words in passing here and there, Jackson hadn’t spent any real time with Calla since the night before the season opener. She’d written a phenomenal article about the game that had run smack on theLone Star Gazette’sfront page the following morning, accompanied by a huge photo of the last-second touchdown and a profile about Tommy. Jackson hadn’t realized the kid had been named to the all-state marching band. His father had been in the army and was killed overseas when Tommy was just a baby. The boy was currently ranked at the tiptop of his class in academics, and he’d organized a local walk to raise money for Alzheimer’s care and support after his grandmother passed away last spring. As he’d read Calla’s story, Jackson couldn’t help but think it was exactly the sort of piece she’d said she wanted to be known for—positive, uplifting and heartwarming—but with a football tie-in. On impulse, he’d sent a congratulatory bouquet from Field Goal Flowers to her office, along with a card.
Thank you for the incredible article. Your words captured more than just the story. They captured the heart of the game. Bishop Falls—and I—are lucky to have you on our side.
Best,
Jackson Dunne
He’d done his best to keep things professional, but now he wondered if flowers had been too much. They weren’t dating. They’d barely even spoken in recent weeks…
Which was the right decision, even if it stung a bit. That first game had been a heady experience. They’d needed to pull back before they did something dumb and risked both their futures.
“Jackson?” Harper said, clearly exasperated at his inattention. “Are you still there?”
He placed Bishop’s bowl on the floor, and the bulldog dived right in. “Yes, but I need to get going. The school Halloween carnival is today.”
“And you’re going?”
He didn’t have a choice in the matter. All school faculty members were required to volunteer, which, as Jackson had pointed out to Principal Dean, didn’t exactly meet the definition of volunteering. He hadn’t been complaining, just making a humorous observation. In a shocker to no one, it had gone over like a lead balloon. Jackson had once again been assigned detention duty later that afternoon.
“Yep, I’ll be there,” he said.
“Good work,” Harper replied and then ended the call with a brusque goodbye.
Bishop finished his breakfast and then scooted his bowl around the kitchen floor with his snout until it bumped into Jackson’s foot, nudging him out of the funk he always seemed to descend into after talking to his agent.
Things were okay. They were better than okay, actually. His image-rehab plan was going better than either of them had expected. Jackson should’ve been thrilled.
Hewasthrilled. Harper’s calls made him feel like he was being abruptly jerked out of one life and back to another, that’s all. It was disorienting. If he was going to coach the Bulldogs to a winning season, he needed to keep his feet and mind firmly planted in Bishop Falls. Once they made it to State, it would all be over. In the end, this entire experience would be a win for everybody.
“It really will, won’t it, boy?” Jackson said as he squatted down and gave Bishop a scratch behind his soft ears. The dog’s nub of a tail wagged at the sound of his voice, just like it always did…
But when he dropped to his belly and rested his big head on his paws, the expression on his droopy face was undeniably forlorn.
* * *
After thirty-plus days of doing her best to avoid Jackson Knight, Calla had gotten rather good at it.Somewhatgood at it, at least. Unfortunately, the man was everywhere she turned, which made forgetting that he existed all but impossible.
Just as she’d predicted, the dramatic opening game had turned him into a bona fide town legend. Any lingering animosity from the press conference had been swiftlyforgotten. Once again, whispers around Bishop Falls said that Jackson would be the one who’d finally break the curse. Calla had even been tempted to believe it…
Until she remembered that she didn’t care about the curse nonsense.
She’d gotten caught up in the excitement of Tommy’s surprise touchdown, that’s all. Everyone had. In her article, she’d dubbed the play “The Tommy Twist,” and Stan had loved the nickname so much that he’d made those three bold words the banner headline on the paper’s front page. The entire population of Bishop Falls was walking on air, Calla included.
Then the flowers had arrived, and the way her stomach swooped at the sight of them had been the wake-up call she so desperately needed. Football hadn’t gone to her head.Jacksonhad.
She was falling for him, hard and fast, and it terrified her to her core. The only way she was going to get through the rest of the season emotionally unscathed was to pretend it wasn’t happening. So that’s exactly what she’d done. Luckily, Jackson had been so busy judging pies and carving pumpkins in his reclaimed role as man of the hour that avoiding any one-on-one time with him hadn’t been too hard.
Today, however, was proving to be an exception.
“Thanks so much for volunteering, Calla. As you know, we really rely on our alumni to step in and help out with the Halloween carnival.” Principal Dean handed her a sheet of paper printed with a map of the carnival booths and where each one had been set up in the school parking lot. Someone had written her name at the top of the page, along with a booth number. “It looks like you’ll be working at station number 8, Frankenstein’s Football Toss.”
Seriously?
She gritted her teeth.The Dunne name strikes again.Calla had been angling for the musical cake walk booth. She’d have even preferred manning the station that gave away goldfish to little kids over anything involving her least favorite sport.
