Ezra was the vice president of the student council, and since homecoming was their major activity each year, he’d been running around the school from day one of the students’ arrival, connecting with coaches, activity directors, and student groups to solidify their participation in the upcoming festivities. Apparently, now he was going to work on her.
“I don’t know, Ezra. I’m really supposed to be on duty as security all week. Being a referee sounds fun, but I can’t really do both at once.”
“Dang. That’s what Dad said too. Said he had to be available in case of emergencies. Ugh. Why is this the one thing that’s so difficult to find volunteers for?”
“Probably because knowing the rules matters, and people don’t feel secure with it. You couldn’t get any of the PE teachers to do it?”
“They were the first place I went, but everybody’s coaching something, it seems.”
“What about parents?”
Ezra flashed her a look that she recognized as being the same as his dad’s whenever he was going to say “Absolutely not” to something, and it made her chuckle how alike they were.
“I apologize for suggesting something so ridiculous,” she said with heavy sarcasm. “I might have someone for you, but don’t get your hopes up. I’ll see what he says later tonight.” His smile lit up his face—again, much like his dad’s.
“You’re the best, Officer E.”
She shook her head as he took off for the locker room to get ready for football practice. Seeing the boy made her think of his dad. And then that made her think of what she’d seen just after lunch today. She normally went to the main cafeteria during first lunch, the commons area during second lunch, and then to the outdoor seating area for third lunch. Often, she would see Lucas making the rounds as well, although he usually picked a table and sat with a different group of kids each day and ate with them. Today, however, she hadn’t seen him during any of the three lunch periods.
Turned out, he had drastically different plans.
She sighed, and immediately her good mood was gone. While her eyes and ears were still on the students passing through thehallways on their way to buses, cars, and activities, her thoughts turned inward. After third lunch, she’d gone to his office to leave him a sample of the letter placards to go above the outer doors. His office door was closed, and he was sitting at his desk eating lunch—only, he wasn’t alone.
There was a woman with him, and clearly, she had brought him lunch based on the takeout bag sitting at her feet. Dark hair that was long and layered. Small and curvy, but certainly comfortable and sure of herself in her own skin.
Suddenly, Elyxandre mentally transported back to her first day of junior year. For two years, she had crushed on Ethan “Tripoli” Evans, the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. From afar, she wished away her tightly braided, dishwater-blonde hair, her green eyes, and her basic jeans and tees as she watched girl after girl—prettier, smarter, more athletic, more everything—flit around him like bees on a flower. He’d never notice her.
Then suddenly, he did. Whatever planets aligned that day, Tripoli chose to sit next to her in civics, and they ended up being partners for an activity all week. Two weeks later, he asked her to homecoming, and then they dated until he graduated and left for the Navy. He helped her become more confident, helped her see herself as worth something.
But for whatever reason, seeing Lucas with the pretty woman in his office—their conversation so animated, their laughter so free, and his eyes twinkling as he looked at her—Elyxandre felt herself transported back to that awkward girl again. The only difference was that now the tightly braided hair and face with no makeup was combined with the tomboy uniform of the school district polo, bulletproof vest, gun belt, tactical pants, and boots instead of the basic jeans and T-shirts of her teenage years. She was no match for someone like the woman in his office, and she felt herself feeling sad about that.
She didn’t knock. She simply went to the office, wrote a short note, which she attached to the sample letter, and put it in his mailbox for him to pick up when he walked through.
But of course, she couldn’t do that without hearing the three office assistants gossiping about the man and his guest. She tried to block it out but couldn’t. The woman’s name was Jess. From what she was able to gather, they had openly dated a few years back but told everyone they were just friends now. No one believed them, though, because they spent a lot of time together, including the occasional lunch like today. Sometimes people saw them out in public together—nothing scandalous or even remotely improper. Just meals out, sometimes with Ezra, but more often not. A gathering or two for her workplace. The banquet at the end of last school year. The common theory was that he was busier than he had been when he was teaching, still trying to get in the groove of things, and since he was so late leaving the building all the time, they were keeping the relationship quiet and close to home.
She’d also heard rumors about his past with his ex-wife. Those she tuned out or left the room when they began to be discussed. Being a divorcée herself, she knew how frustrating those gossipy conversations could be, and she didn’t want to have any part in them. All she knew was they had been college boyfriend and girlfriend, they married, had Ezra, then she left when the boy was three. She didn’t want to know more. She didn’tneedto know more. It wasn’t her place.
On that thought, she redirected her brain to what she’d been watching and hearing. Students were left in the barest of trickles, leaving the building, heading to a practice, or meeting with a teacher. Time to head out.
“Juliette, I’m leaving for the day,” she called out on her way through. “I’ll be over at Station 7 with the officers from SAPDgoing over the pep rally, parade, and game rotation schedules, so call me on my phone if you need me.”
“Will do, Officer E!”
While there was always a rescue squad on hand during the football games, the school used the local first responders for extra coverage during big events like homecoming, since there were so many extra people in attendance. Being the overplanner she was, she wanted to make sure they had enough coverage and in the right places. When Quint suggested they meet as a group at the fire station so the firefighters were nearby in case of a call, she grabbed the offer with both hands.
Since meeting at the accident scene, she had the chance to talk with Quint fairly regularly, and he invited her over this past weekend for a barbecue. While there, she met several law enforcement officers and their significant others, as well as some of the fire station crew. It was a little awkward at first, but she felt like she was making some strides in making new friends.
When she arrived at the station, two squad cars and the sheriff’s SUV were in the lot. As she entered, a chorus of cheers went up from the three men in the garage. Crash, Squirrel, and Moose were working on rewrapping hoses on the main truck. “Head on back, E!” Crash called out. “We’ll be there as soon as these two quit fooling around, playing with their hoses.”
Moose snorted and threw back, “I’ve got your hose right here.” She didn’t want to see if there was a gesture that went with that comment, so she carried on through the station to the common room with a laugh and a wave over her shoulder.
Another chorus of greetings reached her as she walked through the doorway. There she saw several firefighters and other people she didn’t know, most likely other first responders who would be helping out with homecoming. Taking the empty seat next to Quint around the long table, she began pulling maps and other papers out of her folder that she brought in with her.She handed them to him, and he took one of each and passed them down the line until everyone, including the three empty seats for the men in the garage, had the papers in front of them.
“So there are a few bodies here you didn’t meet at the house. That’s Penelope.” He gestured to the woman wearing a Station 7 T-shirt. “Then you’ve got Chief, and the three yahoos out in the garage, who you already know. On your other side is TJ Rockwell with the San Antonio Highway Patrol, and Hayden Yates, county sheriff.” The last two gave her an informal salute.
The three “yahoos” entered the room, still making off-color jokes about hoses, then parked themselves in the empty seats at the table. She smiled at the easy camaraderie among the group. It was something she’d only ever had with her high school friends. Things had certainly never been this comfortable in New Orleans. Back then, she could fool herself all she wanted that it was because the department was too big for those types of relationships to form, but inside, she always knew those relationships existed. They just hadn’t included her. Knox had made sure to keep her on the outskirts from the beginning.
They spent around an hour going over Elyxandre’s plans, tweaking a few minor traffic patterns, looking at work schedules, and cementing duties. Once that was done, the conversation turned more personal.
