by Lia London
“Not at Riverview High, Ma. Maybe someone will drown him in designer cologne, but—” Nikki held the phone away from her ear and mouthed the words in unison: Don’t sass your mother.
“Go for the coach.”
“Even if he’s divorced and chasing women all the time?”
“You chase him and he’ll stop all that.”
Nikki drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and braced herself. “There’s one little problem with the coach. He thinks I’m married.”
“How did he get that impression? You don’t look married!”
There’s a look? “I sort of told him I was.” She held the phone away from her ear again while her mother shrieked. “I’ll fix it, Ma.”
“I honestly don’t know what to do with you.” Ma hung up, and Nikki rolled over onto her side.
Feeling’s mutual, Ma. And I don’t know what to do with Coach, either.
By the time Nikki had coughed her way through the first half of the day, she was so miserable she could hardly keep her eyes open.
“Why are you here?” asked Gayle at lunch.
“What do you mean? I have to work.”
“You’re sicker than a dog. Go home.”
“Who’ll teach my classes?” asked Nikki, shuffling in her purse for some tissue.
“We’ll cover for you,” said Kristin. “Go home.”
“But I can’t use up my sick days now. It’s still September.”
“Honey, everyone uses up half their sick days in September,” said Gayle. “That’s when we all get sick because we haven’t been around the germs all summer.” She handed Nikki a box of Kleenex from a shelf.
Dusty nodded. “And then we all claim to be sick the last month of school because we can’t wait for it to be summer.”
Nikki blew her nose and laughed at the same time. “Things they don’t teach you in the Education department at Trench.”
“That’s why you need us,” said Gayle. “Go home, Nikki. I’ve got my prep period after lunch. I’ll get you covered.”
“Really?”
“Really. Are your lesson plans legible?” asked Gayle.
Nikki considered. “I’m introducing Emerson and—”
“I’ve taught that unit a million times. Trust me. I’ll take care of your kids. Go check out in the office and tell Katie I’m working on your subs in-house. Heck, take the next two days off, too.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s SAT test time for the juniors.”
“But… Emerson.”
“Will have to be abbreviated.” Gayle gave a resigned shrug. “Go home. Use the time to rearrange your lesson plans. You know… Just delete Steinbeck or something.” She winked.
Relenting, Nikki stood to go. “Tell my football players I’m super proud of them.”
“I will.”
“Oh!” Nikki’s eyes widened. “And be sure to collect their essay do-overs. I’m expecting a good one from David Pembroke.”
Nikki returned to her room long enough to gather her personal items and make sure everything was easy for Gayle to find. Then, she went to the chalkboard and wrote, Be nice to the sub. She’s my friend. ~Miss. F
She debated whether or not to blow her nose before leaving since she knew she had no tissue in the car. Her nose had been malicious in the timing of its mucous releases—always when she stood furthest from the Kleenex. She blew, and then she grabbed about twenty more tissues from the box on her desk to take with her in the car. Stuffing these into the pocket of her cardigan, she slung her purse over her shoulder and headed to the office to check out.
Katie smiled sympathetically and promised she’d help Gayle find in-house subs to cover. “You go home and get better. The first cold of the first year is always the worst.”
“Ah, good to know,” said Nikki, her n sounding more like a d.
Katie shook her head. Reaching behind the counter, she pulled out a pink box of tissues that had not yet been opened. “Here. You’d better take this.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Nikki waved good-bye, grabbed the stack of memos from her mail box, and headed down the hall to the back door just as the bell rang to start class.
In the stillness, her heels clicked noisily on the tile, but the faster she went, the louder she breathed. Good grief, I’m like Darth Vader in stilettos. She reached for the door, but it swung open before she could touch it.
Officer Ross looked at her with surprise. “Is the prisoner escaping?”
“Yep. I’m headed to solitary.”
He took a step back. “Oooh, you don’t sound so good. Going home sick?”
“Uh-huh.”
“With office supplies from the school? I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” he said sternly.
Nikki looked down at the pink box in her hand and blushed. “Oh. Sorry. Katie said I—”
“And what’s that suspicious lump in your pocket?”
“Uh?”
Ross chuckled. “I’m just kidding. You can always replace the stock if you feel guilty about it.”
“Yes, sir.” She started down the steps and then paused. “Check on my kids, huh? Since you’re always patrolling my hall.”
“You bet. Get some rest,” he said. “Tell that husband of yours to make you some soup.”
Yes, that would be nice. “Mike’s awesome that way. I’m sure I’ll feel like I’m in a day spa with how well he’ll take care of me.” Why am I lying to this man? He’s almost as easy to talk to as Charlie.
“Good,” he said. “Every wife deserves that. Wives and mothers do so much for everyone else, so it’s only right he take care of you when you need it. I’ll see you when you come back, but don’t come back until you’re well.”
Nikki’s eyes softened at his thoughtful words, and she whispered, “Yes, sir.” If I tell him I’m not married, he’ll never trust me again.
Nikki walked into Main Street Market holding her nose to keep it from running. “Hi, Brian!”
“Nikki! How are you?”
“Can’t breathe, and you?”
“Good, good!” Brian, Front End Manager Extraordinaire, continued chatting up the chunky blonde for whom he was checking.
Twenty feet more into the store, Nikki yelled, “Brian, where’d you put the cold supplies end cap?”
Brian smiled nervously at his customer and called, “Aisle 4, other end.”
“That’s stupid!” she groused. As she wheezed her way down the candy and chips displays, she realized this was corporate trying to lure customers into impulse buys. Fat chance. My taste buds died two hours ago. She snatched up two boxes of lotion-enhanced tissues and a bottle of Nyquil.
“Well, look who it is!”
Nikki turned to see Flip-Flop Man hugging a Family Size pack of cheese puffs. They match his sandals. How…disturbing. She cracked open one of the packs of tissue even as she stared at him. “Hey there. Long time no see.”
He looked at her quizzically. “Are you allowed to do that?”
“I pity the fool who tries to stop me.” She set all her items on the floor and blew her nose heartily.
Flip-Flop Man backed up a step and hugged his cheese puffs a little tighter.
Grinning inwardly, Nikki decided to take brother’s advice and be confident and friendly. “So how about that game last night? Did you catch it? You like ball, don’t you?”
He coughed uncomfortably. “Uh, yeah. You, too?”
“Big fan!” She blew her nose again in a fresh tissue and then looked around for some place to stuff her wadded up waste. Cramming it all into her left hand, she held out her right hand as if to shake. “Good seeing you again!”
“Right,” he croaked, not shaking her hand. He gave a half-hearted wave and waddled off in the opposite direction.
Nikki laughed, coughed, laughed some more, and gathered up her items. At checkout, she plopped everything on the belt and reached over to drop the used tissue in Brian’s waste basket.
/> He glared at her, but said nothing. Scanning her items, he said, “You know we hate it when people open packages before they pay. It messes up the bar code.”
“Would you prefer it if I left snot all over the magazine rack?”
“You’ve changed, Nikki.” He bagged her last item. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’m the customer now, Brian.” She winked and swiped her card. “I’m always right.”
He paused before handing her the receipt. “Touché. So what are you doing nowadays?”
Picking up her bag with a flourish, she said, “Today, I am off to watch Gilligan’s Island until the Nyquil kicks in. I imagine that will be about forty-seven minutes from now. Have a nice day!”
15~Class Conflict
“Hey, cowboy,” drawled Josh. “Could you mosey a little faster and pass those papers back?” Nikki tossed him a quizzical look, but he just grinned and held out his hand to Adam, who stuffed the papers onto Josh’s desk, wrinkling most of them. “Take it easy, Tex.”
“Shut-up, Ball Boy!” said Adam.
“What’s the trouble?” asked Nikki.
“Cowboy’s just a little slo-o-ow,” said Josh.
Adam turned in his seat and thrust an angry finger in Josh’s face. “Shut up!”
“Boys, boys!” called Nikki. “Do I need to separate you?”
“Please!” laughed Josh. “I can’t stand the stink of cow manure.”
Josh’s teammates laughed it up, and Adam moved to strike.
“Adam! That won’t be necessary.” Adam reined in his anger, and Nikki hooked a thumb in the direction of the door. “Josh, you’re outta here.”
“What?” he asked, as if genuinely confused.
“Outside. We need to talk.”
Adam looked at Nikki, pleased surprise in his eyes, and sat back down.
Nikki followed Josh out into the hall and called after him.
“What?” he snapped, turning around and glaring at her with fire in his eyes.
“Josh—”
“If I get detention for this, I can’t play. You’re going to have to answer to Coach.”
“Seems like that’s always the threat.” She looked at him while he simmered. Her face softened. “Josh, you’re a smart kid. I can see that already. You’re starting varsity as a junior, so you must be talented, too. But I don’t care how smart or talented you are if you can’t be nice.”
He snorted and started to turn away. “Right.”
“Josh,” she said softly. “You’re young—”
“Don’t patronize me, Ms. F.”
She held up an appeasing hand. “You’re younger than I am. But in my few extra years, I’ve realized something. The people I remember from high school—out of everyone, the jocks, the brains, the stoners, the band geeks—you know who I remember? You know who I look back and think, ‘That guy was cool’?”
The set of his jaw relaxed, and he shrugged.
“The kids who were nice. No matter what group they belonged to. If they were nice to everyone they saw, they were cool. They made a difference. I still look up to them years later.” She smiled at the memory. “In the end, that’s what makes the biggest impact. That’s what gets you remembered in a good way.”
Josh seemed to consider her words. “Whatever.”
“Think who you remember most from your childhood,” she continued. “The nice kids and the mean kids, right?”
He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Don’t be the kid they remember for being mean, Josh. You’re better than that.” They looked at each other for a long beat, and then she exhaled and turned to go back to the classroom. “Why don’t you take a long visit to the water fountain, maybe think about what I said? Then come back to class, okay?”
“Wait.” He straightened. “No office? No detention?”
“Do you need it?”
“No?”
“Good. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Ms. F. You’re all right.”
“Are you kidding me? A Spirit Day Assembly?” Nikki stared at the announcement sheet and growled.
Gayle smirked. “Oh well, just cancel Hemingway.”
“I’ll never get that far.”
“Trust me. You’ll enjoy this one,” said Gayle.
They pressed their way into the throng of slow moving students, and Nikki covered her nose. “I’m not sure which is worse,” she whispered. “The smell of teenage boys, or the smell of teenage boys trying to cover the smell of teenage boys.”
“Yeah, the cologne fumes are pretty strong.”
“Don’t light a match. The whole place’ll blow.” Nikki formed at megaphone with her cupped hands and imitated a cow. “Moooooooove!”
The students closest to her giggled, and Gayle back-handed her. “You’re as bad as the kids.”
“Says the woman who plays hangman during staff meetings.”
“Hey, on another note,” said Gayle, laughing as she changed the subject. “I don’t suppose you and your husband are available to chaperone the Homecoming Dance October 9th?”
Nikki fumbled with a reply. Now’s the time to come clean. She opened her mouth to tell Gayle the truth just as half the football team barreled through the crowd cheering, “Wooohoooo! Go Wildcats! Yeah!”
Everyone covered their ears, laughing at the leaping energy of the boys. Nikki and Gayle made it to the double doors of the gym and stepped aside gratefully to allow the students onto the bleachers. Her confession forgotten, Nikki sidled over beside the other teachers who stood in a ragged line beneath one of the basketball hoops.
“This is different,” said Nikki.
“It’s the epic battle between good and evil,” said Gayle.
The gym ceiling hung with streamers in the anticipated blue and gold, and banners with snarky jokes about tonight’s opponent on the football field graced the walls. But in between, an obstacle course made of hay bales brought a new smell entirely.
“What’s this about?”
“Spirit Day,” said Gayle with a documentary narrator’s voice, “is more than a day to tout the colors of the Riverview Wildcats. It is a time for each courageous department and every major extra-curricular group to assert their dominance in the Wildcat Kingdom. By the end of this yearly ritual, students will be in a veritable frenzy of Wildcat fever. School pride as a whole comes from pride in its individual…” She waved her hand and returned to her usual tone. “Blah blah blah. You get the picture.”
“Okaaaay. But hay bales? And how long is this going to go on if everyone’s going to show off? Do we have to watch the cooking class bake a soufflé?”
Gayle buried her face in Nikki’s shoulder to laugh. “Sshhh! Don’t give them any ideas!”
The horrific screech of microphone feedback jolted everyone to silence, and all eyes turned to Principal Geoffreys at the far end of the gym. “Well, now that I have your attention…” He chortled at his own joke, but most people were still rubbing their ears and didn’t hear him.
As he continued, Nikki leaned in close to Gayle. “Oh my gosh, he’s giving the same corny speech my principal used to give at pep assemblies.”
“It’s part of their administrative training, I think,” said Gayle with mock seriousness. “Hot Air 501.”
A whistle sounded, and then a hearty “Yeeee-haw!” Nikki gaped out at the court to see four of her American Lit students standing on hay bales and posturing like roosters at one another. Josh and David, in their football jerseys and helmets, beat their chests and grunted like apes. Adam and Cody, in cowboy hats, boots, jeans and plaid shirts rolled to the elbows, stomped their feet and clapped in rhythm. The students in the bleachers laughed, cheered and hooted. Two competing boom boxes blasted the school fight song and a country western song.
Nikki could not contain her delight. “This is either going to be really fun, or a total blood bath. What do they have to do?”
“It’s differ
ent every year,” said Gayle. “But the cowboys and the jocks have a long-standing feud at Riverview.”
“So why are we promoting that?”
“Oh, there’s no stopping it. Even before this new building went up, the townies and the hicks of Eastmont have been trying to top each other. You should have seen it in the old days!” Gayle winked. “I’ve been watching these showdowns since before you were born. It’s all in good fun.”
“As many of you know,” blared Mr. Geoffreys’ voice through the loudspeakers, “Coach Carlin’s football team and Mr. Craft’s FFA club have unfinished business from last year. The battle was inconclusive.” Roars and boos. Mr. Geoffreys raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “Last year, the football team picked the challenge. It involved strength and agility. Most of you will remember the spectacular hurdling portion.” Cheers and whistles. “That’s right! Well, this year, the FFA gets to set the challenge. Strength and speed are involved.”
Nikki shook her head. “The football players are buff. How are Adam and Cody going to stand a chance?”
“They’re not,” said Will.
He had appeared behind her unnoticed in the commotion, and Nikki hid her surprise behind a whooped holler for the kids. “You been training the boys in farm skills?”
Will stepped forward and placed his hand gently on her back. “You just watch, pretty lady,” he said in a countrified drawl. “Them cowboys are goin’ down.”
The challenge was a simple relay race wherein each boy had to maneuver a wheelbarrow laden with a hay bale through the obstacle course and stack the hay at the end. There were four bales in all, so each boy would go twice.
Adam and Cody pulled on thick leather working gloves, but Josh merely spit into his palms and rubbed them on his jeans. A buzzer sounded, and both Adam and Josh shot into motion, Josh leading in speed, but as soon as he grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow, he fumbled. He couldn’t keep the wheelbarrow from veering wide and crashing into the bales that marked the course. Meanwhile, Adam moved with an unhurried ease through the markers to the end. He lifted the bale from the barrow and tossed it against the wall where it would be stacked. As he made his way back to Cody, he leaned over to the struggling Josh and called, “Keep trying. You’ll get there!” There was no encouragement in his tone.
