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“Fashion is a social statement. In the 1960s, it was a huge statement. And Vietnam had its own society. I want to compare that with what we had.”
Marcus looked at her, attempting to ascertain if she was trying to pull something over on him. He wasn’t new to this teaching gig, just new to this college. “I’ll give you some leeway. Since the topic’s a bit different, I want to meet with you halfway through to make sure you’re on track.”
“Oh, thank you, Professor.” She rushed forward and tried to give him a hug. Marcus knew better and hastily put up his hand.
“Whoa! Just do a good job. That’s thanks enough.”
“Okay. You won’t regret this, I promise,” she repeated, then hurried out of the classroom. Marcus paused, taking a deep breath before slowly walking toward the door himself.
Everything was so different here, and while Natalie was part of the strangeness of this new world, she was a small part of it. He told himself he would adjust, he would figure it out.
Nothing was even remotely similar to the world in which he’d expected to live out his life. Carolyn’s death—He froze, the memories slamming into him. No, he wouldn’t let the hurt cripple him again. He’d fought too hard to escape the grief. He forced his feet to keep moving.
The job he’d loved, had thought he’d gain tenure with, had vanished too quickly when he’d fallen apart. He’d nearly lost Ryan, the thirteen-year-old waiting at home for jelly to make his peanut butter taste less like crap.
This move, this new position, had to work, had to save him and what was left of his world. It had to. What the hell? He’d read and grade anything—even a paper on the fashion of 1960s Vietnam—and give the student a fair grade, if it meant keeping his son, and giving Ryan the life he needed and deserved.
CHAPTER TWO (#u8b75dc5e-5d60-5802-9914-eee9436e0f88)
MONDAY MORNING CAME way too soon. Why, again, had she taken this job? Addie sat at the principal’s desk that, six months ago, she’d thought was the epitome of the best career move she’d ever made.
Teaching had always fulfilled her. After Mom’s funeral last year, though, she’d needed something to fill up the emptiness inside her. She knew some of it had to do with losing her mom, but not all of it. Not really.
So, she’d thrown herself into pursuing her long-held plan to become a school principal.
Now, after spending hours staring at budgets and accounting columns—that still didn’t balance—she was rethinking everything.
Frustrated, she returned her focus to the papers in front of her. Somewhere, the calculations were off, and she had to figure out where. Maybe she should take it down to the eighth-grade math class...see if they could solve it?
Or she could go to the teachers’ lounge and get a nice cup of tea. Caffeine sounded lovely right about now. She stood. Maybe a break would help.
Lindy Dawson sat at the break room table working on lesson plans. Addie smiled. She and Lindy had started teaching here the same year. Their friendship was one of the best parts of this job.
“Hey, Ad.” The petite brunette leaned back and put down her pen. She rolled her shoulders. “What’s on your exciting schedule today?”
“The usual.” Addie sighed. “I can’t get this month’s budget numbers to balance.”
Lindy had been the one person who hadn’t supported Addie’s job change. In all honesty, she missed the day-to-day contact with the kids, and Lindy had known that would happen.
“You having second thoughts? About the job, I mean.”
“No. Just—” Addie sighed. “I don’t know. Something seems off.”
“Here?” Lindy tilted her head toward the hall. “Or at home?” She grinned at Addie, a shit-eating grin if Addie ever saw one. “You did go out to the ranch this weekend—to the land where everyone falls in loooove, right?” Her voice went a bit singsongy.
“Cut it out.” The slightly annoying detail that all of Addie’s siblings—younger siblings, all five of them—were married or seriously involved with someone wasn’t lost on her. She chose to ignore the fact that she hadn’t gone on a date in months.
“What?” Lindy laughed. “Got anything you’d like to share?” She waggled her eyebrows, teasing. “Any juicy details of some wild weekend?”
“Funny.” If Addie didn’t know Lindy so well, if they hadn’t shared nearly every deep, dark secret over ice cream and wine, she might be upset with Lindy’s nosiness. She knew it was well-intentioned. Lindy was as close to her as Addie had ever been with either of her sisters. “No, nothing to share.” Even Addie heard the disappointment in her voice.
“Maybe that’s the problem.” Lindy closed her notebook, and gathered up her things. “Give yourself a break. It’s budgets. Nobody dies.”
“Are you sure?” Addie flopped down on the couch. “We could all freeze to death if the heating bill isn’t paid, you know.”
“Nah, I’ll just make everyone run around the building to warm up. Besides, we live in Texas, remember? Warm most of the time.” Addie groaned as Lindy stood and shouldered her backpack. “One more swim practice before regionals.” Lindy laughed as she headed toward the door. As the gym teacher and swim coach, Lindy always finished her day with swim class.
“Do you ever get tired of it? Want to change to another subject or something?” Addie asked.
“Nope.” Lindy opened the door. “Watching teens in an environment where they can’t posture and primp gives me hope for the human race.” She laughed.
“You’re sadistic.”
Lindy just grinned back. “I know. Admit it—it’s what you love about me.”
Addie knew her friend also loved when she could teach kids the skills to save themselves. The rest was just a cover for the soft heart that resided inside.
Suddenly, loud voices came from the hallway. “What’s that?” Lindy asked as she peered into the hall. Addie wasn’t far behind. Jess Martin, the biology teacher, came out of the science lab the same time they stepped into the hall.
A crowd stood near the lockers. Raised voices bounced off the walls. There was obviously something going on. As Addie and the teachers got closer, kids on the outside of the circle stepped aside and away. They knew trouble was coming.
“Hey,” Lindy called, wading through the group. Jess followed. He was taller and bigger than either of them, which might give him an advantage to see what was going on. By the time Addie reached the center of the crowd, Lindy had pulled one boy back and Jess had hold of another.
The first boy had a bloody nose—the second would have a pretty good shiner tomorrow morning.
“Everyone back to class,” Jess instructed. After the kids all groaned a bit, they trudged away, discussing the fight.
“You two.” Addie pointed from one boy to the other. “My office. We’ll call your parents. Lindy, get the first-aid kit.” They didn’t have a school nurse. They shared one for the entire district, but she was really here only when they were giving out vaccinations or holding a special event. Most crises were handled by the administration, or the teachers.
Lindy was better at first aid than the rest of them, since gym class tended to be the place everyone got hurt.
The taller of the two boys, the one Jess had by the arm, just snickered and shrugged. She recognized him—Nick Haldon. He’d been in her office before, a couple of times. She remembered his parents, as well. The Haldons were decent people, but the father seemed absent in the boy’s life. Meeting with the pair was never a pleasant experience.
The other boy was smaller, but not by much. He didn’t have the perpetual smirk on his face. If nothing else, he looked a bit shocked, perhaps scared. Was he afraid of her? Of getting in trouble? Of his parents? She looked at him for a minute, knowing she’d have the answer soon enough.
She led the way to the office, with Lindy bringing up the rear, and seated the boys far away from each other in the reception area. The receptionist, Gina, was there to make sure they didn’t take off. Lindy took care of the bloody nose the best she could, but there was no getting the blood out of the boys’ shirts.
Addie groaned. Visible evidence—blood, specifically—set parents off, with good reason, but that would only make it worse. Probably for them all.
Once the bandages and ice packs were in place, Lindy put the first-aid kit away, and Jess headed to his class, leaving Addie to deal with the two boys. She stood looking at them for a long minute.
She’d start with Nick. At least with him, she knew what to expect. “You—” she pointed at the new boy “—stay here until I call you. Nick, come with me.” She headed into her office.
Seated, she looked across her desk at Nick. If he’d been in her office multiple times already, how many times had he been here with her predecessor?
His shoulders were hunched, and he held an ice pack to the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t broken. Lindy had assured her of that. But Addie had to admit, the new kid—she really needed to figure out his name and use it—had a pretty good left hook. She wondered where he’d learned that.
“You want to tell me what happened?” Nick wasn’t going to answer, but she’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
“No.” His voice was muffled by the ice pack.
“I’m giving you the opportunity to come clean. But I understand that you might be in too much pain to talk clearly.” She really needed to work on her penchant for sarcasm. She blamed her brothers and their own various busted lips and noses for it. “If so, you can sit in the outer office and wait until your parents get here.”
She walked him to the separating door and had him sit, then turned to face the other boy. He had his own blue ice pack shoved against his right eye. Nick could slug pretty good himself. “Come with me,” she told the other boy.
She didn’t wait for him any more than she’d waited for Nick. She sat while he got comfortable.
“You want to tell me what you were fighting about?” She tried to keep her voice even and her face neutral.
“No.”
“You know, someone’s going to tell me what happened.” She wouldn’t even have to use the good cop/bad cop routine, though Lindy would be disappointed. She loved playing the bad cop.
“Nick won’t tell.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about Nick. I’ve dealt with his type plenty. No, the other kids who were standing around watching. They’ll eventually tell me.”
He looked at her, his eye wide as if that had never occurred to him. How had he gotten to eighth grade and not realized his fellow students were not always to be trusted?
There was definitely something about the boy that intrigued Addie, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. “What’s your name?” she asked softly. Since he was a newcomer to the school, she didn’t have a clue what to expect from this boy, unlike Nick.
“Ryan.” He didn’t say anything more, and she waited for a long minute.
“Do you have a last name?”
“Yeah.” Another long silence, and in the one eye she could see, she saw his thoughts. She was pretty sure he was actually considering lying to her.
“Lying’s a bad idea, just so you know.”
“Uh... Skylar.”
“Thank you, Ryan.” She leaned back, knowing that Gina was even now pulling his file to get his parents’ phone numbers. Addie pondered how to approach him.
Westbrook Middle School wasn’t huge. When Addie had been growing up, she’d gone to school here. Back then, attendance had nearly overflowed halls. Now, with an aging population in the area, and the new system of charter schools and choices that weren’t around when Mom was raising them, the headcount was lower.
There weren’t many new kids each year, so Ryan Skylar was notable in a sea of the same faces each year. Something about him interested her, and maybe it was because she’d spent way too much time staring at budgets.
She tried again. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
He shrugged. “Do I have to?”
She fought back a smile. “You don’t have to, but it might make things better for you. Ms. Hanson is calling your parents, and I’d like to be able to tell them you were cooperating with me.”
He shrugged, and that single uncovered eye looked at her. If she’d ever seen pain, it was in that one brown eye. It jolted her. So strong. And almost familiar. She shook her head and sat forward again, crossing her arms on top of the budget papers. “You know, I grew up with three brothers. And a couple sisters. There’s not much you’re going to get past me.”
He looked down, studiously examining his tennis shoes. She waited for him to look up again.
“I’m an only kid,” he said softly.
“There are times I would have liked to be that.” Flashes of all the craziness in her family flitted through her mind. “Does that have something to do with the fight?”
He shrugged again, but still didn’t look at her. “Bet your house wasn’t quiet.”
“Uh, no.” She laughed. “Not very often anyway.” She gave him a couple of minutes, but she needed to find out what happened. “We’re calling your parents—”
“You gotta call my dad,” he interrupted.
“Okay. Is there a reason?”
“Mom.” The boy took a deep breath. “Mom passed away...”
Well, she’d muddled into that one. “I’m sorry.” Addie felt the knife in her chest for the boy, and from her own recent loss of her mother. That’s what she’d seen in his gaze. Grief. It resonated with her. She knew how much it hurt. Faded memories of her father, and the resulting emptiness, were still too real.
“Then we’ll call your dad.” She cleared her throat, not sure what was stuck there. “What do you think he’ll say about your getting into a fight?”
The boy looked down at those tennis shoes again. “He’s not gonna like it.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
He seemed to think about that a minute. “Probably cut down my computer time.” The sadness in the boy’s voice expanded to fill the room. She fought a smile. At least now she knew what was important to him, and she felt another stirring of curiosity.
Gina stood in the doorway and Addie looked up. “Yes?”
“His father’s on the way. Nick’s parents aren’t answering.”
So, what else was new? She really didn’t want to deal with the Haldons, but there were some things about her job that were unavoidable.
“Unless you’ve got something to tell me, you can take a seat in the lobby until your dad’s here.”
The boy hesitated but finally stood. She had to admire him. He might not like Nick, but he wasn’t going to rat on him. She watched him walk out and slump down on the chair—farthest from Nick.
She pulled the budget papers together and sorted them. She wasn’t going to make any more progress for now. Even if she did, parents would only show up and disrupt her. She didn’t know how long it would take for them to get here.
She glanced at the clock. Another hour and the day would be done. Hopefully, Gina could reach the Haldons before it was time for the boys to head home. She couldn’t let them go before speaking to their parents, and she didn’t want to stay any later than she had to.
“Addie?” Gina said from the door. She had the cordless receiver in her hand and a smirk on her face. “Mrs. Haldon is in Atlanta at a conference. Mr. Haldon is at work. They’re looking for him.”
“So, who are you talking to?”
“The housekeeper. She wants to know if she should come get Nick.”
“Housekeeper?” Addie stared. “No. His father needs to come get him.”
“I’ll let her know.” Gina left, and for some strange reason, Addie found herself feeling sad for both boys. Neither of them had the support they needed, that they should have.
Just then, a man Addie had never seen before came rushing in. He wore neatly pressed dress pants and a blue button-down shirt. His thick chestnut hair looked awry, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Repeatedly. “Ryan?” He headed straight for the boy.
He knelt down, uncaring that he could get dirt on those nice pants. “Are you okay?”
