“Thank you, Grace,” Charlie said noncommittally. It was the end of a very long day, complete with one student in tears in her office over her ongoing struggle with geometry, one player in tears in her office over a pre-prom breakup, a junior player having a borderline panic attack over applying to colleges, and lunchtime in a hastily called conference about a senior in Charlie’s homeroom accused of cyberbullying a freshman. Charlie had facepalmed, both mentally and physically, often enough that surely she was down to bare skin.
She made a quick pit stop on the way back to her office. The bathroom was empty, the students clearing out as fast as they could to enjoy the spring afternoon. Charlie peered in the mirror as she washed her hands. Her lipstick was gone, but some mascara clung to her lashes, and color pinkened her cheeks and chin. But the appearance wasn’t just the surface of makeup. Something shone in her eyes, softened and brightened them, a lingering pleasure and a sense of anticipation. It wasn’t a familiar look, but eventually she placed it.
She looked happy. That’s what happiness looked like—remembered good times and the expectation, even the promise, of more to come.
As she stared at her reflection, the light dimmed in her eyes. Jamie might be hers for the moment, but he wasn’t hers forever. He was on leave, back for a special, one-time event honoring a coach who’d meant the world to him. That was all.
However, not even a clear-eyed, rational assessment of the situation could completely dim the light in her eyes. Because tonight, as ridiculous as it was, Jamie was going shopping and having dinner with her. She was careful not to phrase it as “taking her” anywhere. She’d buy her own dress, pay for her own meal, the memory of her mother taking money from the revolving door of men in her life always in her thoughts. Charlie paid her own way as a point of pride. But Jamie would be with her.
After collecting her papers to grade, the grade book she kept even though the district maintained them online, and her uneaten lunch, she walked down the empty hallways to the side door leading to the staff parking lot and headed west into town to make the climb up the Hill. The houses got bigger, were set further back from the street on vast, tree-studded lots, as she drove up the main road to the cul-de-sac, using her mental map of the basketball court’s location and the narrow sidewalk leading to the steps to guide her.
It didn’t matter how old she was, or that she’d played on the team that won the European championship, or that she had a respectable position in the community. She’d never feel like she belonged on the Hill. Determined to face this particular fear, she parked, turned off the engine, got out of the car, and walked up to the front door to ring the bell.
The door opened almost immediately, Jamie and his brother Ian peering out with identical, inquisitive gazes. Ian looked, and smelled, like he’d been run hard and put away wet then rolled around in the dust bunnies under the bed. Jamie was showered and dressed in a pair of jeans and a hastily pulled on polo with one side of the collar turned up. Water droplets clung to his hair, and the shirt was stuck to his broad shoulders, like he’d showered and dressed in thirty seconds flat.
“Hi,” she said, twisting her fingers together to avoid straightening his collar.
“Hey,” Jamie said, like she came to his house all the time. “Want to come in for a minute?”
“No!” she said, then softened her tone. “No, thanks. I really just want to get this over with.”
Ian’s eyebrow rose. Jamie grabbed keys and wallet from the table in the foyer and scuffed into sneakers.
“We’re going shopping,” she explained to Ian.
“For the banquet?” Ian asked, his gaze shifting from Charlie to Jamie. “You finally going to break down and buy a suit?”
“Hell, no,” Jamie said. “She needs a dress.”
Ian’s gaze shifted back to Jamie, obviously wondering why his brother was going along on a shopping trip for a dress for the girls’ basketball coach, obviously drawing conclusions Charlie didn’t want him drawing.
“Shut up, Ian,” Jamie advised.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“I can hear you thinking,” Jamie said as he finished lacing his sneakers. “Tell Mom not to hold dinner for me.”
“What makes you think I’ll be around for dinner?”
“Like you’re going to bake a frozen pizza rather than eat Mom’s pot roast,” Jamie scoffed. “Not to mention you’ve got all those D&D grids to go through.”
“I can’t believe I kept all those.”
“And the die. And the figures.” Jamie coughed “geek” under his breath, and got a swat to the back of the head for his efforts.
“Have fun,” Ian said.
Charlie had been slowly backing away during this exchange. Jamie walked around to the other side of her car and waited while she clicked open the locks. “Did you have any trouble finding the house?”