Page 13 of Cross Check Christmas
"Because you're the great Hendrix Ellis." She practically spits my name. "Local hero who made it to the big leagues. Well, guess what? Some of us actually care about more than just skating around and hitting people."
"Come on. Have some fun. When's the last time you laughed at anything that wasn't written by dead British guys?"
"Whatever." She spins on her heel. "But this isn't over, Ellis."
The gym door slams behind her with enough force to rattle the basketball hoops.
Not five minutes later, as I'm demonstrating a perfect wrist shot technique, the doors fly open again. This time Colette's brought backup—Principal Chen, looking about as thrilled to be here as someone getting a root canal.
"Mr. Ellis, Miss McAllister informs me there's been a scheduling conflict." Chen adjusts his tie.
"No conflict at all." I flash my best media-trained smile. "We're just doing some team-building exercises. Very quiet ones."
Right on cue, Brenden slaps a tennis ball that ricochets off three walls and nearly takes out the Canadian flag.
"During my rehearsal time!" Colette's voice hits a pitch that could shatter ice.
Principal Chen pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, you're both valuable members of our faculty?—"
"Temporary faculty," Colette mutters.
"Both activities are equally important to our school community," Chen declares in his diplomatic principal voice. "I'm sure two reasonable adults can find a way to share the space."
"Share?" Colette and I say in perfect horrified unison.
"Excellent! I'm glad you both agree."
"But–-" Colette and I protest.
“The gym's big enough for both activities. Ms. McAllister, you can use the stage area. Mr. Ellis, keep your drills to the other half."
Chen backs toward the door before either of us can protest. "I trust you'll work this out professionally."
The door clicks shut behind him. Colette's students start filtering in, clutching scripts and looking uncertain while my boys try their best to look innocent. Which, for teenage hockey players, is about as convincing as a penalty dive.
"Places everyone!" Colette claps, her voice rising above mine. “From Gabriel's entrance."
"Okay team, passing drills!" I call out, maybe a bit louder than necessary.
"Stay on this half," she points to the far side of the gym. "And keep your... projectiles... to yourself."
I wink. "Whatever you say, Shakespeare."
The chaos starts immediately. Tennis balls fly everywhere as my guys practice their hand-eye coordination. One zooms past a kid mid-monologue, making him yelp and drop his script. Another bounces off the stage and rolls through what's supposed to be an emotional scene.
"Most highly favored lady—duck!" A student dives as a ball whizzes overhead.
"Sorry!" Tommy calls out, not looking sorry at all. "My bad!"
Colette shoots me a death glare. I pretend to be very interested in my clipboard.
"Could you please control your barbarians?" she hisses.
"They're expressing themselves. Isn't that what your drama club is all about?"
My guys are running patterns while her kids attempt to waltz or something. There's a near collision when Billy's backward shuffle almost takes out one of the three wise men.
"Watch the manger scene!" Colette shrieks as Jeff slides past, narrowly missing baby Jesus.
