She blew out a breath. “You want to know what’s even shittier than being betrayed? Being the betrayer. I’m the betrayer, Ems.” Haddie felt that hot prick behind her eyes again as her throat grew tight. This was exactly why she’d left Chicago, to say goodbye to the hard stuff. Yet here she was, walking right back into it less than a month after starting her life over from scratch.
Emma shrugged, undeterred. “Well… What if you said to hell with Principal Crawford’s budget cuts and Levi’s lack of support and fought for what you think is important?”
Haddie loved being a teacher. And now she also loved being acoach. But she was as fish out of water as someone could be. She had no idea how to stand up to a guy who basically lorded over the entire, tiny little school district like it was his and his alone. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” she admitted.
“You don’t have to figure it out this minute,” Emma told her, draping her legs over Haddie’s and then flicking on the announcer’s microphone sitting on the desk. “You’ll think of something in that über-creative brain of yours, and whatever it is, count me in to help.”
Haddie tilted her forehead against her friend’s. “Thank you,” she told Emma with a sigh. But her soft words were amplified by the microphone, pushed out onto the field so that Matteo, even with his earbuds still in, glanced up at them as he rounded the track. “But…why the mic?”
Emma leaned back, flashing her a mischievous grin. “Thought we might serenade my husband-to-be and embarrass the hell out of him.”
Haddie’s expression brightened. She didn’t have to solve her problem tonight. It was enough to have Emma on her side, even if she wasn’t sure what came next as far as school was concerned. Embarrassing Matteo, on the other hand…
“Is the mic wireless?” Haddie asked.
Emma nodded.
“‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ Heath Ledger à laTen Things I Hate about You?” she added.
Emma jumped up, pulling the microphone from its stand, not wasting a second as she started in on the lyrics about Matteo beingtoo good to be true. And together, she and Haddie danced down the bleachers, turning Matteo’s water break either into his worst nightmare or—as Haddie liked to think—yet another reminder of how lucky he was that Emma saidyes.
Maybe happily ever after wasn’t something Haddie would ever find for herself, but it comforted her to know it was out there for people who knew how to be brave with their hearts. People she’d never understand but could admire from a distance. People like Emma.
Levi was already tucked away in his room by the time Haddie returned, so she got ready for bed and climbed beneath the covers. Several minutes of tossing and turning were interrupted by a text notification on her phone.
Haddie grabbed the phone, expecting a few more wise words from Emma, and gasped when she saw the text preview on her lock screen.
Mr. Tux:Awake?
Her heart leaped like she was a kid opening a Christmas gift to find something better than what she could have even imagined that she wanted…which was why she fought every urge to reply, even after the phone buzzed a second time in her hand.
Mr. Tux:Is it weird that we still barely know each other, and I already hate fighting with you?
“I hate fighting with you too,” Haddie whispered. But she hated even more what that implied. That they cared about each other and about their friendship enough that they could already hurt and disappoint each other.
Mr. Tux:If you’re reading and not responding, don’t tell me. My ego’s still kinda fragile. So I’m just gonna tell myself you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.
Haddie couldn’t help herself. She tapped the empty text box, typing and deleting the wordHeybut not knowing what the hell to say next until she finally sighed and dropped her phone facedown on her chest.
It buzzed, making her rib cage vibrate. Or maybe it was just her heart stuttering in her chest.
Mr. Tux:Message received, Birthday Girl. Sleep well.
Chapter 8
Levi thought giving Haddie her space for a day would be enough.Two max. He figured he needed as much time to get over seeing those three dots appear and disappear in response to his late-night texts. What was he thinking? He’d obviously messed up, so why did he think bombarding her with texts would make it better when she probably just wanted to get some sleep? When he ambled out of his room on Friday morning, the official first day of school, he figured they could finally call a truce. But Haddie was already walking out the door.
And because he apparently wanted to see how many times he could be rejected by a woman he wasn’t even romantically involved with, he tried to catch her before she left her classroom at the end of the day. But when he got there, Ms. Darlene, the woman who’d been the librarian since Levi and Tommy were in middle school, was holding down the fort as Haddie’s class got ready for dismissal. She squinted at him through rainbow-framed glasses, her hair sitting atop her head in the same bun she wore all those years ago, the one that was somehow held together by a No. 2 pencil.
“Ms. Martin is in a meeting that ran long, so I’m covering forher until she gets back. Should I tell her you stopped by?”
“Who are you?” a tiny but powerful voice inquired from somewhere much closer to the floor. Before he could answer Darlene, the owner of the voice began tugging at his pant leg. “Hey, mister! I asked you a question,” she continued.
Levi dipped his head until his eyes met those of a first-grade girl who couldn’t have even been three feet tall. Even with her high ponytail of wispy blond hair, she still barely reached his knee.
He dropped to a squat in front of her and grinned.
“I’m Coach Rourke,” he told her. “I’m a friend of your teacher’s. What’s your name?”
