But after Ethan’s winning touchdown, Chad Fletcher had gotten so excited he’d jumped up from the bench and landed hard on the ankle he’d injured during the first quarter of the game.
Two of Chad’s teammates had helped him into Coach’s office. Mac had administered the ice pack while Coach tried unsuccessfully to get in touch with Chad’s mom, who worked at a resort a few miles from town.
The hospital was half an hour away, but Mac wasn’t surprised when Coach announced he was going to drive Chad to the ER for X-rays.
Mac knew her dad felt personally responsible for every single player, but one look at the clock told her there was no way she was going to make it to the dance now. Cinderella had had a fairy godmother and a horse-drawn carriage. Mac was on her own. Coach wouldn’t have time to drop her off at home on his way to the hospital, let alone wait until she changed clothes and did something with her hair.
She froze when Ethan wandered in, wearing a clean football jersey and a pair of jeans. He’d stopped for a minute to check on his injured teammate and then turned to her. “Ready?”
Mac opened her mouth but no sound came out.
“I asked Ethan to give you a ride home so you can get ready for the dance.” Coach ruffled her already ruffled hair. “You don’t mind, do you, Pumpkin?”
Mind? Mac had hoped Ethan would see her after the game. In her sparkly blue dress—his favorite color—not covered from chin to toes in faux lion fur. And smelling like stale popcorn.
As if by mutual agreement, neither of them said a word until Ethan pulled up in front of her house. Then he shocked Mac all the way down to her furry slippers when he offered to wait while she got ready for the dance.
All Mac wanted to do was forget the entire night.
“I’m not going.” She bailed from the cab of his pickup and headed toward the front door.
Ethan caught up to her in two strides. “Why not?”
Why not? Because she would need at least an hour to get ready. Because she’d seen Hollis and Kristen walking into school and they looked dazzling and stylish, and why had Mac thought for even a minute that she would fit in?
She couldn’t tell Ethan that, though, so she’d latched onto the first excuse that popped into her head. “I don’t know how to dance.”
“It’s not hard.”
Said the guy who was good at everything.
Mac kept walking. A little faster.
“You know how Mom sends me and Hollis to Chicago every year over spring break, right?”
Mac managed a jerky nod. Everyone knew. When they returned, Hollis showed off her new wardrobe and boasted about the fancy restaurants and the concerts she and Ethan had went to with their grandparents.
“I’ll let you in on a secret.” Ethan bent down and his breath stirred a damp wisp of hair by Mac’s ear. “Etiquette school. Chapter 8 was dancing lessons. This quarterback knows everything from the tango to the cha-cha.”
All Mac could manage was a garbled sound when she found herself being nudged toward the center of the yard.
The moment Ethan took her hand and placed it on his shoulder, he’d captured her fifteen-year-old heart as well.
Fifteen minutes later, Mac’s slippers were soaked with dew and the stitches holding her tail in place had started to unravel, but she didn’t care.
One final twirl and Ethan ended the lesson with a courtly bow. “You’re going to the dance, right?”
Mac nodded. Right now she would have agreed the happiest cows were from California.
“Good. I’ll find you.” He smiled down at her. “Save a dance for me.”
Ethan wanted to dance. With her.
After his pickup disappeared from sight, Mac spun circles in the yard until she was dizzy.
Coach had gotten home as she finished getting ready and drove her back to school.
But Ethan never showed up.
Mrs. Hudson had needed help with refreshments so Mac tied an apron over her dress and spent the entire evening in the kitchen, cutting up bars and making punch. She did slow dance with Timmy Hudson, but he was nine months old and drooled on her shoulder so Mac decided it didn’t really count.
She also decided that if she truly wanted to reinvent herself, she was going to have to leave her hometown to do it.
“Did you talk to Ethan and find out why?” Annie’s question tugged Mac back to reality.
“And risk even more humiliation?”
“Maybe he had a good reason.”
“He did. Kristen Ballard.” Mac had heard her bragging about watching a movie at Ethan’s house after the dance. “She was on the homecoming court four years in a row. I couldn’t compete with her.”
“Maybe you didn’t have to,” Annie said softly.
“Ethan was hoping to score some extra points with Coach by being nice to his geeky daughter.” And then he’d promptly forgotten about her. “I’m okay, Annie. It was a long time ago. Ethan was a long time ago.”
“But he’s here now,” Annie pointed out. “In Red Leaf.”
“And I’m leaving.” Mac felt the need to point that out too.