Darius jerks his head back, his mouth falling open,exposing the half-chewed cookie and sensing the tension, I stand.
“Christine, maybe we should go to your room.”
“No, no, I need to prep for third grade, anyway. If you hear a noise that sounds like a thousand swans slowly dying, it’s just my class with recorders jammed into their mouths for the first time.”
She gathers her things, including the remaining cookies, and heads for the door, turning before she leaves.
“Damn Yankees. Think about it.”
And with that, she leaves me alone with Coach Hill.
“What’s she so upset about?”
With Christine gone, he takes another bite of his cookie, crumbs falling right onto the name stitched on his tracksuit.
“Darius . . .” I gently reach out and brush away the tiny crumbs on his chest. “You have to understand, all that time you were picking on me, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. You may have thought it was just playful teasing, but believe me, others noticed too.”
“You mean Wong is mad at me, too?”
“Not mad. Just . . . cautious.”
He nods and pulls his lips in. “Okay, I need to do more work with Christine. Got it.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” I glance over and double-check that the door is closed before placing my hand on his thigh. “But it wouldn’t hurt.”
“But why is she so mad at the Yankees? Never would have pegged her for such a Red Sox fan.”
“No,Damn Yankeesis a musical. Christine couldn't care less about . . . basketball?”
With a massive grin, Darius swallows the last of his cookie. “Baseball, but gosh, you're cute.”
He leans over, his chocolate coconut breath tickling my lips as he kisses me gently. Yeah, those soft, sweet lips might be the end of me.
“Door’s not locked,” I whisper as he pulls back.
“Harry, I don’t care if the entire school knows how nuts I am for you.”
I grab a pen from the caddy on the table and lean back in my chair. My fingers click the pen on and off as Darius stares at me with giant eyes. The finals are next weekend. I promised I’d chaperone. To help Coach Applegate and his puppies. The kids. For Darius. I have a ton of work to do before then, but that’s over a week away, and I want to see him sooner.
“So, the finals,” I begin, not sure how to ask. “You feeling ready for them?”
He shrugs, but his smile betrays a bit of nervous energy. “We will be. We have a few more practices between now and then. I don’t want to overdo it, but I want to keep the boys’ heads in the game.”
“Sounds smart,” I say.
“How about you? Ready for your next big chaperone gig?”
“I will be,” I say, rubbing my temple. “I’m swamped. I’ve got essays to grade, meetings, prep work . . . It’s gonna be a hell of a weekend.”
Darius looks thoughtful for a moment before he says, “It sounds like you’re going to be busy this weekend, but I’ve got tickets to the Mariners game next Wednesday. I’dlove to take you. But I totally understand if your hands are full.”
The idea of attending a professional sports game makes my skin crawl, but he’s inviting me into his world. My lips press together as I stare at Darius’s sweet face.
“I’d like that,” I reply, fingers still clicking away on the pen.
Did I just agree to attend another sports event? My father would be shocked, then ecstatic. “But I want to see you before that.”
“You do?”
