Page 90 of All This Time
Chapter 17
Fletcher
Job Offers and a Meatball Sub Full of Honesty
I finish the last set of push-ups and then fall to the floor, waiting for the burn in my arms to subside. There’s not much room to work out in this cabin, but I’ve been managing with the limited space.
Before I can fully recover, my phone rings on the coffee table next to me. It’s Thursday morning, but as far as I can remember, I don’t have anything going on. Last night at Laney’s we finalized the details of the bachelor party, and then I pinned her up against her front door, stripped her shorts off, and made her come on my tongue again.
Fuck, I’m getting hard just from the memory.
Welcoming a distraction, I pick up my phone but hesitate when I don’t recognize the number. The area code is from Blossom Peak though, so I answer more out of curiosity than anything.
“Hello?”
“Is this Fletcher?” A deep voice comes through the line, one that sounds familiar, but I can’t place exactly.
“Who is this?”
“This is Principal Hastings,” the man says. “But you probably remember me as Mr. Hastings, the history teacher.”
I sit up from my spot on the floor. “No kidding. You’re the principal now at the high school?”
When his laugh hits my ears, I’m brought back to the years I spent in his classroom, listening to the same sound as he cracked jokes, making history as entertaining as it could be. “I am. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”
Pushing a hand through my sweat-soaked hair, I sigh. “It’s hard to keep up with everything in Blossom Peak these days,” I say, thinking back to Laney’s revelation last night.
She finished her degree, just like she planned before her mom died, and I hate that I didn’t know that—that I wasn’t one of the people who got to cheer her on in that pursuit.
“I can imagine,” Mr. Hastings says, pulling me back to the conversation. “I’m sure your life is exceptionally busy, but I heard you’re in town. Is that correct?”
“I am.”
“Well, I know this is short notice, but I was wondering if you’d have time to come down to the school and speak with me while you’re here?”
I mentally debate what on earth he could want to talk about. “Anything I should be concerned about?”
“I’d rather talk more in person.”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I notice it’s just after nine. “Today is the only day I would have time.”
“Today would be perfect if that works for you. I’m at the school right now. Summer isn’t really time off for the principal, you know?” He laughs.
“Can I meet you there in an hour?”
“Perfect. Just call when you arrive so I can let youin.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks, Fletcher. See ya soon.”
After I shower and change my clothes, I stop by Bites & Bliss Bakery for a breakfast sandwich and coffee before making the drive over to the high school. Even though I drove by here last week, I haven’t stepped foot on the campus since graduation.
As I lock up my truck and start walking toward the main building, the football field taunts me on my left. The smell of the freshly cut grass mixed with the humidity in the air brings back long practices during the same weather. The bleachers are empty, but I can still hear those hometown crowds cheering when I’d scored a touchdown. And the same scoreboard stands at the far end of the field, one that I looked up at so many times I lost count.
But that field holds some not-so-great memories as well, memories that I shove down with expert precision each time they try to crawl their way to the surface.
Mr. Hastings opens the front door to the main building as I approach.
