Blake looked at me with surprise. “I had no idea. He comes across as so confident.”
“Yeah. He’s always been a popular kid with his peers, and he manages to hide his insecurities well. He dropped French this year, but he was in my class for his first two years. The students write personal essays for me in their journals. They’re just short paragraphs, but the kids know they’re private and that I don’t share them with anyone else. In that forum, Matt was always very honest about his feelings.”
“Some kids have to deal with so much,” Blake murmured.
“Oh, I know.” I glanced around the gym until I spotted Amanda and Carson. I surreptitiously pointed them out to Blake. “Those two have had to overcome a lot as well. It’s been a joy to see them find each other and carve out a little normal teenage fun, despite some very serious issues.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask—what kind of issues?”
This was common knowledge at the high school but, again, not something Blake would necessarily know unless he was acquainted with the families. I motioned Blake closer. “Health issues. Amanda started high school wearing a wig. She’d been diagnosed with cancer in eighth grade and spent the summer before her freshman year going through sixteen weeks of chemotherapy.”
Blake blinked at me. “Oh, no. That’s—that’s—” He didn’t finish. He just shook his head and stared at the girl with the short blond hair who was still twirling in Carson’s arms. “But she’s okay now?”
“For now, yes. Thank goodness. The cancer is in remission, but Amanda still misses a lot of school because of doctor appointments,” I said. “Carson goofs off in class more than most of the kids, but I stopped getting mad at him when I realized why. He was trying so hard to make her laugh.”
Just talking about this made me a little more emotional than I liked to admit but, although Blake had always been good with the kids, I wanted him to understand why I cared so much about them. I wanted him to realize that they all had stories. That, despite everything that might be going on in their lives, they were still so hopeful. So optimistic. They were part of what kept me wishing for happily ever afters.
I brushed away a tear that had escaped and saw Blake studying the young couple on the dance floor with new eyes.
“If you want to know the truth,” I said, “I don’t think Carson even likes French. But he’s stuck with it these last couple of years because of her.”
Blake exhaled slowly and nodded. He motioned toward Alexis and Heath, who were slow dancing to the song that Matt had been put in charge of playing next—Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time.” He asked, “What about them?”
“No sad stories that I know of, but Heath was always a really quiet boy. Crazy talented in art, just not the strongest student when it came to the core curricular subjects. Alexis is his complete opposite. Very verbal. Very much of a high achiever in school. Until recently, they ran in totally different circles.”
“Did they meet because of the Homecoming committee?”
“I’m pretty sure they knew who each other was before, but I don’t know if they’d ever really spoken until Stephanie roped them both into joining the committee,” I said. “I more than suspect that Heath had a crush on Alexis from afar, but I don’t think he would have acted on it and asked her to be his date at the dance if she hadn’t openly admired his artwork. I was proud of her for recognizing his gifts, especially since they’re so different from her own. And I was proud of him, too, for being courageous and stepping out of his comfort zone.”
“That’s sweet,” Blake said. “And kinda romantic.”
I laughed. “It is. It takes a lot to get you to appreciate that, doesn’t it?”
He shrugged, but he was smiling. “My parents met the same way. Back in high school. They had such a classic love story and were together for decades. Always faithful to each other—at least as far as I know—and they managed to raise five kids. If they were still alive, they would’ve been married forty-two years this Christmas.”
Shar had told me how affected Blake had been by the loss of their parents. How painful it was for them all to watch their mother suffer after the passing of their father, but that Blake had taken it especially hard. “You must miss them a lot,” I said.
“I do. I even miss their parental advice,” he confessed. “There are tons of things I’d love to ask them both now that I wasn’t ready to know when they were here.”
“Yeah?” I left my question open-ended. Maybe he’d want to tell me. Maybe he wouldn’t.
After a long moment, he added, “About relationships mostly. Hell, about a lot of life’s most important things.” He nodded toward Stephanie, who was still busying herself with the refreshments table and making sure everything was perfect. As usual, she was being ever vigilant and not taking any time for herself, even though the dance was running as smoothly as it could be by now. “What’s her story?”
“High achiever. Perfectionist. Very attentive but demanding parents. They care about her and they show their love, but their expectations are probably overwhelming. Or they would be to someone who was less capable than Stephanie is. I tell her what a wonderful job she’s doing whenever possible. I try to reassure her that she doesn’t need to worry so much. But I don’t know if anything I’m saying is sinking in. She’s a lot like me when I was in high school,” I admitted with a laugh. “Works hard. Plays it safe.”
Blake leaned in and nudged me with his shoulder. “I was so afraid of girls like you in high school.” He paused. “Still am a little intimidated, actually.”
“Why?”
He slanted me a sideways glance. “Your type always seemed to know what you were doing. Knew where you were going. I was almost always blundering my way around—lost and trying like hell not to show it. And if nothing else that I did could distract everyone’s attention away from how scared I was, I’d pick a fight.” He winked at me. “Worked every time.”
“Guess we’re pretty different from each other, huh?”
“Yep. Though some people say opposites attract,” he murmured. He didn’t give me a chance to reply to this statement, nor did he let on if he was one of the people who believed it. He just pointed at the sound equipment. “Look, I’ve got to get back to being a DJ for a little while. Matt’s already up to the Whitesnake tune. He’s gonna run into a music gap in a sec. So—” He semi-smiled at me. “Maybe we’ll talk later?”
“Yeah,” I managed.
As he rushed away, I thought about our many conversations. Some had been silly, sure, but there had been a few, like this one, that were totally lacking in pretense. Why did it take me hurting him and making it clear to him that we probably shouldn’t be together for all the feelings I’d tried to ignore about the man to come rushing in?
His personality and mine were stunningly different—that was undeniable. But he had gifts, skills, traits, and tons of good qualities that I could learn from and appreciate. I tried to imagine him as a high-school kid. As a student in some teacher’s class. He must have been such a smart ass as a teen, and I knew he’d been aggressive. A fighter. But I’d never thought about why. About what he’d been seeking during those adolescent years. About what he’d been afraid of. These tiny glimpses into his past were telling.
It occurred to me, watching him at the DJ station with Matt, that the two of them may have bonded so quickly because they both shared the experience of having a very public and well-liked veneer, but they both also had insecurities and confidence issues underneath that façade. Both wanted to excel at something. Discover a place where they could really belong. And, despite their popularity, neither of them had an easy time finding true acceptance.
Then again, maybe none of us ever fully resolved whatever issues we’d grappled with as teens. Perhaps it had been my own issues—just as much as Blake’s—that had been driving a wedge between us. Maybe a part of me was still running from my high-school self. Hoping I could finally get a romantic relationship right.
~B
lake~
The whole time Whitesnake’s “Is This Love?” was playing, all I could think about was how soon I could get back to standing next to Vicky. Just talking with her. Hell, just being with her.
I kept wishing I’d have a familiar reaction to fall back on. One that was all about wanting the release of sex or desiring the mind-numbing intoxication of flirtation and foreplay.
But my desire for her wasn’t just a physical or a psychological need. It was both. And it was more.
“Thanks for trusting me to do that set,” Matt said, his voice wistful. “It was really cool getting to run things over here for a few minutes.”
“Glad you liked it. Wanna do another one in a bit?”
“Yeah!”
He was so enthusiastic, I had to laugh. “You know, if by the end of the night you still think this is fun, you’re welcome to come to radio station sometime. I could show you the ropes, and you can see if it’s a career option you’d like to consider.”
He looked at me with brown eyes so huge and surprised that I thought he might not speak. Then, “Oh, my God. Really?”
“Absolutely. I’d love to have you visit for an afternoon. Maybe one of my weekend shifts, so it doesn’t interfere with your classes, eh?”
“Anytime. Just say when. I am so there!”
“Good. Leave me your email. I’ll check the schedule next week and message you with a few possible dates.” I glanced at my watch. Only a half hour left of the dance before we had to wrap up. “So, Matt, is Stephanie still hanging out by the refreshments table?” I knew she was. I just wanted him to look over there while I got the next set ready.
“Yep,” he said.
I couldn’t get Vicky’s words about the students out of my head. And though I was the last person on Earth who should ever play matchmaker, I’d lived with Shar for long enough to know a good opportunity to pair up two people when I saw one.
“Any sodas, cookies, and chips still on the table?” I asked him.
Matt said there were. “Want me to get you something?”
“Not me,” I replied. “You. You should take a break. Grab a Coke. Chat with Stephanie for a few minutes. Maybe dance to a little David Bowie.” I pointed to the song list. “Let’s Dance” was coming up soon. “She’s a pretty cool girl, don’t you think?”
“Stephanie?” he said. “Uh, yeah. She’s also really smart.”
“Well, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”
He shook his head.
“And she’s cute, too, right?”
Matt had fair skin and couldn’t hide his blush. “Yeah.” He glanced between her and me, considering what I was not-so-subtly suggesting.
“You should celebrate the night,” I added. “You two were half of the crew that created it, after all.”
“We were only one-third of the crew,” Matt shot back, proving he was adept at math. “We couldn’t have done it without you and Mademoiselle.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Nice of you to say. More true of your teacher than of me, though. But I’ve got a little something planned for her.”
The kid raised his eyebrows and looked intrigued. “Really? Oooh. I think maybe you like—”
“Stop thinking, Matt,” I commanded, turning him around and pointing him in the direction of the refreshments. “Go eat something, drink something, chat with Stephanie, dance. I’ll call you back here before the end of the night and you can spin the final set. Deal?”
He grinned. “Deal.” And he was off.
From across the gym, I could see Vicky checking in with a few adult chaperones, but her eyes never strayed far from her favorite students. When she spotted Matt and Stephanie talking to each other, she looked pleased. And when the Bowie song started to play and those two teens began to dance, her face lit up like holiday lights on a tree.
She looked over at me, smiling. I smiled back. I loved seeing her so happy.
Hearing the stories she told me about the kids damn near brought tears to my eyes. Maybe I was just getting sentimental in my old age—sappy song lyrics and touching stories were starting to get to me in a way they never used to. I’d read that this could happen. That being forced to confront our mortality as we got older made most people more emotional. I just never thought I’d be one of them. Turned out, there’d been a lot of firsts since I’d met Vicky.
But, in any case, I truly understood something about her now. She was a romantic not because she was blind to the real world...but because she wasn’t. Because of her students and what she saw in them. Because she wasn’t capable of wishing them anything but the best for their future, no matter what had transpired in their past.
I wanted her to feel honored and treasured, too. To know how much I admired and appreciated her, even if I only had tonight to tell her.
Maybe we didn’t stand a chance in Hades of making an actual relationship work, no matter what Olivia said. Maybe life had made me too cynical, and it had made Vicky too soft. But if we were ever going to get to know each other, I’d have to show her that I could be more open. More honest. Even marginally more heroic.
And if anyone in the world deserved a grand romantic gesture at a Homecoming dance, it was Vicky Bernier.
So, once I’d given Matt and Stephanie the opportunity to rock out to a handful of songs, and I’d finished the current set of tunes, I prepped the final musical rotation—choosing the song order carefully. Then I took a deep breath and clicked on my mic.
“The clock is going to strike midnight soon, but before we go, it’s time to say thanks to all the teachers and parent chaperones who volunteered here tonight.”
I waited for the clapping to die down before I continued.
“And I think we all know Mademoiselle Vicky Bernier deserves a special round of applause. Not only is she an incredible teacher and a fearless staff advisor to the Homecoming committee, but I’ve never met anyone so beautiful—inside and out.”
There, I’d said it. A moment of stunned silence followed as the crowd digested what I’d just confessed. Then there was a wild burst of cheering and whistling.
Vicky looked over at me in total surprise before giving an embarrassed shrug and shaking her head, as if she wasn’t completely deserving of the compliments and all of this attention. I disagreed. She deserved them and was about to get more.
“I never thought I’d ever feel this way about somebody,” I said. “But Vicky is so smart, so kind, and such a good friend, especially when she knew I needed one.” I smiled at her from half a packed gym away, willing her to feel the sincerity of my words. “And despite the fact that she’s one of those ‘cat’ people—” The kids and the adults laughed. “She’s also really good with my dog. She’s ethical, dedicated, hardworking, and so sweet. You’re all lucky to have her at your school. And I know I’m a better man just for having met her.”
I paused again, watching her take in my comments and waiting for what I said to fully sink in. It was, for a minute, as if it were just the two of us alone in the cavernous room. Just one hopeful guy talking to his belle of the ball, and praying she wouldn’t disappear the second the clock struck twelve.
“Earlier in the evening,” I said to everyone, “she told me to let her know if I needed anything. Well, I do. And I’ve got my fingers crossed that she won’t shoot me down in front of most of the school, but I can’t let the night end without asking her to dance with me. Vicky—will you?” I addressed her directly. “You are what I need.”
A shaft of light caught her face, and I could see that tears were streaming down her cheeks. She brushed them away, though, and nodded at me.
Relief flooded my body, and I broke into a grin. “Thank you,” I said into the mic. And then, “If my assistant Matt could come up here and help me out with this final set, I’d appreciate it.”
The kid materialized beside me before I’d even finished the sentence.
“Way to go, man!” he whispered as he took over the DJ station with some expertise now.
“
Thanks, Matt,” I said. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck.”
Then, on my nod, he pressed the button to start the next song. REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started to play. I walked over to stand in front of Vicky and held my hand out to her.
She took it, and I pulled her into my arms.
Almost everyone who’d been dancing before just stood to the side and watched until we’d danced the first verse alone. Then, gradually, the floor started filling up with teen couples and we were surrounded by the buoyancy of young love.
Only once the first chorus had ended and fewer people were staring at us did Vicky speak. “That was a really slick move, Blake.” She glanced up at me with a serious expression. “You had to know that I’d never say no to you in front of all the kids.”
I stopped in place, my arms still encircling her but no part of me was moving except for my heart, which had plummeted to my toes. “So, you’re saying you don’t want to dance with me after all?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes and broke into a huge smile. “I’m not saying that. I’m simply acknowledging what a good strategist you are.”
Okay. She was teasing me. I could handle that. I could give as good as I got. Especially now that my heart was starting to make the slow journey back up to my chest again.
I raised one eyebrow and forced a smirk at her. “Why, that’s an awfully cynical comment coming from an alleged romantic like you, Mademoiselle.”
She feigned an uninterested shrug, but I knew she cared about whatever I’d say next more than she was letting on. Just watching her trying so hard not to let herself get carried away by the fairytale-like fantasy of this moment was cute. And a little heartbreaking.
A part of me wanted to continue joking with her. But, though it would be easy to banter, I couldn’t bring myself to let even a tiny part of her think that what I’d said tonight was a strategy of mine.
I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m not playing you, Vicky. You don’t have to protect yourself from me, okay? I’m being sincere. Je t’aime, Mademoiselle.”
You Give Love a Bad Name Page 18
