Chad always wore wrinkled khakis and a frat polo. Frats were fine, nothing against them. I just hated Chad and the boys’ club at school.Especially if they were already friends.
It didn’t matter. I’d own this and walk away proud. Hayden was getting Gwen ready in her room and asked me to sneak out like I had the past week, but this morning, there was a Post-it note on the front door.
WIN OR LOSE, YOU DID THE DAMN THING. YOU GOT THIS, CHAR. I KNOW IT.
—HOP
I kept that note in my bag for luck.
I drove to the building eerily calm. I parked. I grabbed my folders. I applied my favorite lip balm and walked inside just like any other day. I was fifteen minutes early because a) any earlier would be weird, and b) any later would be unacceptable.
My phone buzzed, probably good luck texts from everyone. I ignored them. This was about me now. Only I could do this.
“Good morning, Ms. Calhoun.”
“Hi, Tracy,” I said to the athletic secretary. She ran the entire school, and we all knew it. Well, her boss and Chad didn’t, but shocker. “How are you today?”
“Great. Can’t complain.” She smiled. “They are ready for you in the conference room if you want to head in there.”
“Sure will.”
I can do this. I will do this.
Keeping my head up high, I walked in and found Peter; our principal, Brett; the athletic director of the junior high next door; and one of our PE teachers, named Adam. He was also in the photo yesterday. All men, all friends. Noted.
“Morning, gentlemen.” I passed out the folders and shook all their hands. Adam smirked. “Anyone else joining the interview today?”
“Nope. I figured us four would be good enough. We have two candidates, so we don’t imagine it’ll take too long.” Peter rose, his lips pinched tight as he stared at the folder’s contents. “What are these?”
“Plans for the softball program, how I would work with boosters, how I’d partner with parents and the community. My team vision and goals on developing student athletes because, while softball is important, being a good student has more value. I played D1 softball, sir, and I have a lot of good ideas. In fact, I’d bet I have incredible ones, and I came ready to play today.”
Peter swallowed loudly, and Adam shifted in his seat.
But the junior high athletic director beamed at me. “I’m Mitch Birmingham, AD and AP at the junior high. I can’t wait to hear your ideas. This town needs a little shake-up, don’t you think, boys?”
Silence.
I sat down in my chair, all nerves gone. It was clear three of them had made up their minds before I even spoke, butinstead of getting angry, I went into game mode. I was a fierce competitor, and today was no different.
“Now we’ll get started. Tell us about your experience and why you think you’d, uh, be a good fit for this program…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
HAYDEN
It was noon before I got antsy enough to text Charlotte. I tried to be patient, but I was dying to know how it went.
Hayden:I need an update. Please. How did it go?
No response yet from her, but there was a missed call from the same random number I hadn’t heard from in a few days.
I rubbed my eyebrow, irritation dancing along my spine. I was already on edge about Charlotte. Thankfully, my phone buzzed, and relief filled me.
Charlotte:Hi! So sorry. I’ve been bombarded with students. It went well. Best I could’ve done. I don’t have a good feeling about the outcome, but I have no regrets. I left feeling proud.
Hayden:That’s all you can do. I’m proud of you.
Charlotte:Thank you! They said they’d let me know tonight so any chance we can get together so I can… not drink alone?
