Page 25 of Kiss the Girl
By the end of lunch, I was convinced. No matter which way I looked at it, getting the head coaching gig would be a major help financially. Besides, it came with an extra prep period so I could get a lot of administrative work done. “Mentoring young men” didn’t even factor in; I already got to do that in wrestling, so the football job was a lateral move in that sense. And really, I could work full-time at a drive-thru window all summer and still not make what I would with the coaching stipend, even if it paid less than it should for the time it would demand.
If Paige and I could work out the babysitting, I would do everything I could to convince Dr. Boone that I was the man for the job.
The bell rang to signal the end of lunch, and that meant I had ten minutes until the faculty meeting started. I made it to the multi-purpose room with five to spare and took a seat next to Brooke.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” It was too much to get into right now, but I’d catch her up later. “How’s it going over in science land?”
“It’s nice to be more excited than scared, like I was last year.”
“That’s what a year of experience will do for you.”
“I don’t feel as clueless, but I’m still nervous,” she admitted. “When does that go away?”
“Not your fifth year,” I said. “I still have first-week nerves too. Although last year they cleared up by day three. Maybe this year it’ll be day two.”
We chatted about our class rosters for a few minutes before Dr. Boone called everyone to order. It took a few times because even though she was well-respected by the faculty, teachers are theworstabout talking in meetings.
“Settle down,” she called for a third time, more sternly. “I’m glad you’re all excited for school to start. Now let’s get down to business.” She moved through the agenda on the screen at a good clip, knowing that she had a short window of time before the side conversations started up again. Within fifteen minutes, she’d gone through the procedural updates for the new year, and the agenda on screen was replaced by a picture of a megaphone overlaid with the words, “Exciting Announcement.”
A low murmur ran through the audience.
“We getting a vending machine in the lounge?” the drama teacher called. It earned a couple of whistles.
“Mr. Ritzau and the ASB have declined to do the Christmas Town booth this year,” she said. The murmur in the crowd grew louder. “That means one lucky campus organization will have the opportunity to do an amazing fundraiser. This will be awarded on a first come, first serve basis, so hurry if you want the chance.”
I waited for a flurry of hands to shoot up, but while the rumbling got even louder, not a hand went up. “I thought people would jump on that,” I said to Brooke. “Clubs and teams are always grubbing for money.”
“No one’s that dumb,” said a veteran English teacher sitting behind us. “There’s a reason Ritzau quit. It’s a pain. You have to raise funds, manage kids, get donations, battle with the Christmas Town fascists, and you lose a year of your life for every year you do the booth.”
“Huh.” It sounded like the conversation I’d had with Dr. Boone that morning.
“Don’t everyone volunteer at once now,” Dr. Boone called from the front of the room. The goading didn’t work. “Seriously? No one? It’s the most wonderful time of the year and all of that?” Still no hands went up. Even from eight rows back, I could see the look of desperation creeping into her eyes. “The whole town looks forward to seeing the Lincoln High apple cider donut booth every year,” she said. “We can’t break with tradition.”
The only sound was shuffling feet and creaking chairs as people shifted to avoid eye contact with her.
“I’ll do it.” I raised my hand to make sure she knew it was me.
I had just figured out how to prove to her that I was head coach material.
Chapter Nine
Grace
The bell rang to announce another customer late Saturday morning as I straightened the display of straw bales and pumpkins at the front of the store. A frazzled young mom with two toddlers had stopped by for childproof doorknob covers, and her toddlers had knocked over all the mini pumpkins while I rang her up.
I glanced over to see Noah walking in. “Well, Noah Redmond, as I live and breathe,” I said in my best Scarlett O’Hara impersonation to hide that his appearance had set my stomach fluttering. “Whatever brings you in today?”
He smiled and scratched his head. “I haven’t even spent enough time in hardware stores to fake a good answer to that.”
Which meant he was here to see me. I tried not to let it show on my face how much I liked his answer. “You’d better think of something so we don’t stand here awkwardly.”
He nodded. “Good point. Um, okay. Do you know what Christmas Town is?”
I blinked at him.
“Oh, right. You grew up here.”
