whiteboard. “There’s thirteen minutes left of class, Amy.”
Taking the hint, she, too, buried her face in the math book. Cary used the time to erase the board for the following day, then take a quick tour of the room to make sure everyone was on the right page. He’d learned his first year that just because he was on task it didn’t mean all his students were.
As he nodded, pointed to correct answers and high-fived the kids who finished, he thought again about something that was the complete opposite of math and equations—Genevieve Slate. The cop. Total brunette perfection. He’d been mesmerized the moment she’d tromped out of the pet store, full of determination.
She’d been all business and grit. Though not really. There’d been a flash of vulnerability in her blue eyes, as if someone had hurt her. He knew the feeling well.
Sitting on the edge of his desk, he waited for the last three minutes of class to tick by.
One of the boys near the front caught his eye. “Mr. Hudson, you going to the game?”
“Of course.”
In the back row, Ben Schultz raised his head. “I heard Jamestown’s pretty good. I hope we’ll have a chance.”
Cary hid a smile. Until recently, Ben had only paid attention to computers and science labs. It looked as if everyone—teachers, students and townsfolk—was rallying behind the Lions. “Brian McCullough’s pretty good, too,” he said, referring to their team’s star forward.
“He’s better than that, Mr. Hudson,” Amy chimed in. “College scouts have been to the last four games. I heard he’s about to get offered a scholarship to Ohio State.”
“You know more than I do. I hope he gets it.”
“Amy likes him,” Jeremy called out snidely. “Too bad he’s dating Melissa.”
Cary wisely said nothing. Amy lived down his street, and Melissa was his niece.
“Everyone likes Brian McCullough,” Amy retorted, though her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
A couple more books closed just as the bell rang.
“Thanks, Mr. Hudson,” a few kids called out as they ran out the door.
“No problem. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tonight,” Jeremy corrected with a grin.
“That’s right. I’ll see you tonight.”
One by one they filed out, leaving the room empty in seconds. Cary wandered back to his desk and sat down just as his best friend, Dave Fanning, strode in.
“Want to grab a burger before the game?”
“Sure, but I have to run home first and take care of Sludge.”
Dave scowled. “How is that crazed dog?”
“Great.”
“He tore up my new pair of loafers last time I was at your place.”
“You’ve been warned. All shoes are fair game if they’re not on someone’s feet.”
“Why didn’t you get a Lab like most normal people? I’ve never heard of a Labrador having a wool-and-shoe fetish.”
“No Labs at the pound.”
“Just psycho beagles.”
“He’s only three-quarters beagle. The rest is a mystery.”
“I’d bet money he’s one-fourth rottweiler.” After nodding to another teacher who walked by, Dave directed a look Cary’s way. “So have you signed next year’s contract yet?”
“Nope.”
“It’s due by next Friday.”
“I’ll make my decision by then.”
Dave leaned against the doorjamb. A parade of noisy kids passed behind him. “Why are you waiting? Is it because of Kate? She’s moved on, you know. What was between you two is history.”
“This next contract is for three years. I just want to make sure this is where I want to be.”
“You’ve lived here all your life. Where else would you want to be?”
Nowhere, but was he ready to decide that there was no other place he wanted to be than Lane’s End? “I’ll probably sign it. I’m just not in a hurry this year. And, Dave, I don’t care that Kate is dating Michael Kent.” The ass.
“He deserves her,” Dave scoffed, making no effort to hide his feelings for either of them. “But, for your information, Michael has just had his second interview in Lakota.”
Lakota was a large and steadily growing district to the west.
That was news. “Really?”
“He wants a principalship. No way is he going to get one around here anytime soon.”
Cary knew that to be true. Lane’s End had just two elementary schools, one junior high and one high school. It was small town all the way. The only time administrators left their positions was when they died or retired, and Evan Miller, the principal of Lane’s End, was years away from either. “When’s he supposed to hear something?”
“Any day.”
“Thanks for the update.”
“So…food?”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you at the Cheyenne Shack in about an hour.”
Dave grinned. “Good.” He looked as though he was about to say more when Melissa stuck her head in.
“Uncle Cary, you still going to the game tonight?”
“Yep. You cheering tonight?”
Melissa laughed. “Of course. See you there.”
Cary raised a hand in goodbye as she flashed him a smile before disappearing.
“You’ve got to stay at LEHS,” Dave said when they were alone again. “The whole student body loves you. You’re the most popular teacher on campus.”
“Pretty impressive for a math geek, huh?”
Since he and Dave had known each other since their own high school days and had even roomed together in college, his friend rolled his eyes. “Too impressive for you,” he retorted. “See you at the Shack.”
“GIVE ME AN L! GIVE me an A! Give me an N!” a peppy blonde with the loudest voice in the world screamed to the filled-to-capacity gymnasium. Obediently the crowd called out the letters in unison, most waving black-and-gold pom-poms.
“This is giving me a headache,” Gen told Sam Clark as they passed the exuberant cheerleaders and made
