The Principal's Office

by Jasmine Haynes

  Rand had called her Monday night. She hadn’t answered. Part of it was feminine wiles. Keep him guessing as to what was going on in her mind. The other part was Nathan. She had to think of him, to put the boys first and her own needs second.

  But the minute she dropped them off at Gary’s on Sunday, Rand Torvik better watch out.

  Justin was talking. She suddenly tuned back in. “He thinks it’s embarrassing you’re coming to games he’s not even playing in,” Justin said. “Like you’re checking up on him.”

  Her youngest son could be a fountain of information. He wasn’t a tattletale so much as a talker. She wanted to say she was checking up on Nathan, but communication was two-way, and she didn’t think Nathan needed to hear that.

  “You’re not going to pull that crap with me, are you, Mom?”

  She stopped on the edge of the quad. “First, I am not checking up on Nathan, and second, I will make a concerted effort to attend as many of your soccer games as I can. I was remiss this year. It’s not checking up, it’s being involved.”

  Justin shrugged. “I don’t care whether you’re involved. I’d rather know I’ve got meat loaf to come home to for dinner.”

  Rachel laughed. “You and your stomach, that’s all that counts.”

  She ruffled his hair. He didn’t pull away. He was so different from Nathan. She wouldn’t say more mature, just less sensitive. He didn’t seem to care what other kids thought of him. Or maybe it was safer to say that he was picky about whose opinion he valued. He didn’t choose friends based on their popularity at school. She didn’t know why he was that way. Her mother claimed that children’s personalities were determined in the womb and the first few months after birth, affected by the mood of their mother at the time. With Nathan, Rachel had been nervous, all the new-mother things a woman worried about. Would he be healthy, would he love her, was he gaining enough weight, was that cough something she needed to call the doctor about, yadda, yadda. When Justin came along, she’d been through it all and was much more mellow. She didn’t put a lot of stock in her mother’s old wives’ tales, but she had to admit Nathan was a worrier like she’d been, and Justin was pretty darn laid-back.

  A low rumble of voices, feet, clapping, shouts, and cheers drifted on the breeze, getting louder as they crossed the quad to the steps leading up to the gym’s open doors.

  Inside, it was chaos. She hadn’t expected the game to be so well attended, but the school had spirit. The bleachers had been pulled out from the walls on all sides, and most of the seats were full. Cheerleaders in blue and yellow outfits punched their pom-poms in the air, chanting out cheers the audience yelled along with. There were two male cheerleaders, which they certainly hadn’t had in Rachel’s day.

  The two teams were out on the court warming up. The referees were checking their whistles, and the coaches were shouting last-minute instructions.

  Scanning the crowd, she couldn’t find Nathan.

  “There they are,” Justin shouted, grabbing her hand and pointing. Her youngest son didn’t mind touching her. She followed the line of his finger, and there was Nathan, three-quarters of the way up on the far bleachers. His expression was glum, even put-upon. Next to him sat Gary, leaning down to shout something in his ear. She hadn’t expected Gary. He’d done his duty on Friday.

  On Nathan’s other side sat a pretty brunette, midtwenties, slender features, and big red lips. She put those big red lips forward, leaning across Nathan to say something to Gary. He turned as she spoke. They smiled together. Even Nathan smiled.

  Dear God. The bastard had brought his girlfriend.

  21

  RACHEL FROZE, HER HAND PUNISHINGLY TIGHT AROUND JUSTIN’S. “What’s she doing here?” She regretted her tone immediately, wanting nothing in her voice to communicate any emotion, but the words were out before she could stop them.

  “She said she had fun on Friday night and wanted to come again sometime.” Justin rolled his eyes. “It reminded her of when she was a cheerleader.”

  Which wasn’t that long ago. Rachel’s fingers felt numb, but no way was she running out. “What’s her name again?”

  “Sherry.”

  “How often is she over?” she asked as they made their way around to the opposite bleachers, past the flouncing cheerleaders, behind the athletes’ benches.

  “Not every night.”

  That’s illuminating, she wanted to say, but refrained.

  “She doesn’t spend the night, if that’s what you mean.”

  Thank God. “I didn’t mean that.” It was exactly what she meant. “I was just curious how—” Rachel stopped herself. She wanted to know how hot and heavy they were, how long they’d been dating, how they’d met, if they’d known each other before the divorce—way too many questions to pump her son for answers to.

  Nathan saw her as they started to climb the bleachers and scowled. Then he looked at Sherry, who was practically bouncing on her seat like she wanted to join in the cheers. She was young, God, so young.

  Rachel stuffed down her emotions. She would not be bitchy in front of the boys. She would not sound like a jealous woman who’d gotten dumped by her husband for a younger woman. Because really, life was better without Gary. Okay, it would be better when Nathan was no longer angry about everything.

  God help her, she wished Rand was here, right here, so she could cling to his arm and beam up at him, and watch Gary’s face pale because he was so much less of a man.

  Stop the madness!

  Her head ached with all the noise.

  Then Justin was sidling past Sherry, Nathan, and Gary, and sitting down in a vacant spot. Rachel had two choices, push past all of them, too, or sit on the end next to Sherry.

  “Hi,” the girl said brightly, holding out her hand. “You must be Rachel.”

  Duh. She was looking at Sherry’s hand like it was a bug to be squashed. How terribly embarrassing the whole situation was. Why the hell hadn’t Gary said something? They’d talked civilly on Sunday, and he hadn’t said a thing about leaving work early on Tuesday to attend the game. He’d done it for Sherry, because she’d had fun. Yet he’d groused when he’d had to take time off to go to the principal’s office with his ex-wife. Rachel gave a mental groan. She needed to stop her runaway thoughts.

  She was forced to sit next to the girl. “You must be Sherry,” she said, her voice sounding sickeningly sweet even to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” She was going to throw up.

  Sherry’s T-shirt was tighter, the neckline lower cut, and though she was slimmer, her breasts were much larger. They were disgustingly pert, the breasts of a young woman who’d never had children. Her dark hair cascaded luxuriously over her shoulders. She wore sandals despite the fact that it was still winter, with a toe ring on each foot, a diamond glittering in one.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I asked Gary to bring me again. We just had so much fun on Friday.” Sherry tapped Nathan’s knee. “Didn’t we?”

  He nodded.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Rachel said over the din.

  Nathan nodded again but didn’t say anything. Well, at least she and Sherry got the same reaction: silence.

  “Nathan’s going to try out for the team next year,” Sherry said, as if Rachel wasn’t his mother and didn’t know. “He’s watching all the teams and the strong players and all that stuff, so he’s really prepared this time.”

  Nathan had told all that to Sherry? This was mortifying. Then all the announcements started, the cheerleaders stopped cheering, the coaches got up, the players were introduced over the loudspeaker, then the game was on.

  “He likes water polo,” Rachel said.

  “Oh yeah. Water polo’s great.” Then Sherry was punching her fist in the air because one of the boys had dribbled. It was such an odd term.

  Rachel wished she was sitting next to Nathan so she could ask him about the players and secure all the information Sherry had obviously gotten, probably without even prying it out of him. But it was too late to chan
ge seats. He watched the game deliberately, as if he was making mental notes. She wondered where his so-called friends were.

  The girl prattled on, like she was making small talk, stuff about the plays, everything innocuous. If Rachel didn’t know she was sitting next to Gary’s girlfriend, it would have been like talking to a chatty teenager at her son’s basketball game. Sherry was actually nice.

  “How did you and Gary meet?” Rachel allowed herself the question.

  “Oh, I’m the Purchasing AA. I started there about six months ago.”

  An admin. Which was just about what Rachel was at DKG. Except that she was fifteen years older. “That’s nice,” Rachel said noncommittally.

  “He was just such a funny guy, always making me laugh.”

  Gary? Funny?

  “So I asked him out.” Sherry laughed. “I’m kind of forward that way.”

  Rachel didn’t know how she felt about all this. Sherry was sweet, and certainly friendly. She included Nathan in some of the things she said about the game, and he responded, smiling. Then she’d lean over and shout something at Justin. He’d shout back. It was unnerving, almost threatening. Rachel didn’t like that about herself. She didn’t want to wish her boys would hate this pretty, fresh-faced girl their father was dating.

  “Do you want a soda?” Sherry asked.

  “I…well, yes, thanks. A Coke would be great.”

  “Gary, I’m getting drinks,” she called out. “Who wants what?” She noted the list, then Gary reached into his wallet and handed her a twenty.

  Rachel watched her bounce down the bleachers. Glancing at Nathan, she saw his face turn pink and followed the line of his gaze. Three boys seated a few rows below were nudging, laughing, staring at Sherry’s butt, and one of them shot Nathan a thumbs-up. He surreptitiously raised a thumb in return, then quickly covered it when he saw Rachel looking at him. Hmm, so those were his friends. And they were checking out Sherry’s butt. All right, definitely not the influence Rachel wanted for Nathan.

  Down on the gym floor, one of the school clubs sold the cans out of two huge coolers behind a table they sat at. Sherry leaned over, affording the Peeping-Tom boys a nice view as she pointed into the cooler. One of the kids put all the cans in a cardboard holder for her.

  Rachel slid over into the now-vacant seat beside Nathan. “Good game?” she asked, feeling oddly tongue-tied.

  “Yeah” was all he said.

  She wanted to ask how he felt having both his mom and his father’s girlfriend here. She wanted to ask if those boys checking out Sherry were his good friends. Instead she kept her mouth shut for fear of saying the wrong thing.

  Then Sherry was back, handing out the cans, passing Gary the change. Nathan said, “Mom, you took Sherry’s seat.”

  In a daze, Rachel moved over and let Sherry sit down.

  Suddenly, she was the odd man out.

  RAND DIDN’T GO TO ALL THE GAMES. BETWEEN FOOTBALL, BASKETBALL, and baseball, not to mention wrestling, soccer, water polo, and track, he couldn’t possibly attend everything.

  This, however, was the last varsity basketball game of the season, and Rachel had said she was coming with her sons. He hadn’t met the younger boy, but Justin would be a freshman in the fall. That was all Rand knew. The nights they had together weren’t spent talking, unless it was about sex, but he’d gleaned a little.

  He’d experienced the strangest urge to attend the game, see her, talk to her, get her to introduce him to her sons. Maybe Nathan wouldn’t glower. When Rand dreamed, he dreamed big.

  He entered the gym during the last quarter, watching from the end of the bleachers. A few students noticed him, said hi. A young English teacher fluttered her lashes at him. As for the rest, all eyes focused on the gym floor. The acoustics in the big auditorium were deafening, and every time a boy pivoted on the court, his gym shoes squeaked loudly. But damn if the kids didn’t get into the spirit of team sports, hooting and hollering, cheering the players on.

  He scanned the crowd for Rachel. Beyond teachers, coaches, and the players’ parents seated behind their sons’ benches, there were few adults. He found her on the opposite side of the court, about halfway up, seated on the end next to a dark-haired young woman, a student he didn’t recognize. No, not a student, this one was probably in her midtwenties. To her right sat Nathan, then the ex, and, Rand assumed, the younger son on his right. Rand imagined he could see a bit of Rachel in the boy’s face. The whole family. Was the girl Rachel’s sister or…

  Rand tipped his head, watching the ex, or more specifically, watching the ex glancing back and forth between Rachel and the girl. There was something in his expression, fearful, even a little frantic. Then Rand got it. This was a new girlfriend. Gary the asshole ex had brought his girlfriend, probably to tweak Rachel’s nose. The girl was at least fifteen years younger than Rachel, and pretty. Rachel, however, was prettier, her smile sweeter.

  He couldn’t believe the asshole would put her through the humiliation. He had the urge to march up there and deck the guy. Better yet, he should climb the bleachers, sit down next to Rachel, put his arm around her, and lay one hot, sexy tongue kiss on her.

  Of course, he wouldn’t. She’d freak because of Nathan and Justin. And while Rand liked his kink, he didn’t mix school and sex. He’d never dated a teacher, not even anyone in administration. Schools were communities. What you thought was private soon became gossip in school hallways.

  The clock was ticking down. His team wasn’t going to win this one, unfortunately. Neither was he. Approaching Rachel after the game wasn’t a good idea.

  Instead he watched her until the final buzzer went off. En masse, the crowd rose out of the bleachers and swamped the players down on the court. There was the downer of losing, but you couldn’t tell from the cheering, backslapping, and ruckus going on.

  After surveying the rowdy crowd a few moments longer, Rand melted out into the night before everyone else exited, beating the throng. It would be full-on dark soon, and he took the steps down to the quad, turning back as the gymnasium’s doors began to disgorge its occupants. He hoped to catch a glimpse of her.

  On the opposite side of the quad, a tall male figure dashed out of the music wing, heading for the stairs outside the gym. He didn’t make it up before becoming engulfed in the game’s exiting crowd.

  Was that Wally? What was he doing here? Wally didn’t like crowds, but his locker was down the wing adjacent to the gym. Rand lost sight of the boy as the quad filled up.

  There was the usual jostling and horseplaying. He searched the crowd for Rachel and her family, trying to cover both sets of double doors, but the game had been well attended, and he had trouble spotting any of them.

  A small crowd seemed to be gathering at the top of the stairs, then he heard a shout. Rand got a feeling, a bad one. Wally had disappeared somewhere over there. In another moment, Rand began to run, pushing through gaps in the students and parents now dotting the quad.

  Then the crowd at the far end parted, and a body tumbled down the stairs.

  Jesus. They needed more lighting out here for night games. He couldn’t see anything as he elbowed his way through the knot of onlookers.

  Wally lay on the ground at the foot of the stairs, his hands over his face, shoulders shaking. Rand squatted down. The boy’s sleeve was torn, his elbow scraped. Rand reached out, but didn’t touch him. Wally had an aversion to touching.

  “You okay, Wally? Talk to me.”

  “Fine, fine, fine,” Wally chanted in his usual set of three.

  “What happened?”

  “Trip, trip, trip.” Wally’s voice was high, almost singsongy.

  “Take your hands away, Wally. I need to see if your face is bleeding.”

  First Wally spread his hands, gazing up at Rand through the bars of his fingers.

  “That’s not good enough, Wally.”

  The boy slowly slid his hands down. “Okay, okay, okay.”

  Rand didn’t see any blood beyond the scrape
on his elbow. “You look okay, Wally, but I want to take you in to see Coach Milford. He’s got a first-aid kit, and he can clean up that scrape.”

  “Good, good, good,” the boy chirped, but Rand noted moisture beneath his eyes. He’d been crying. Maybe from the fall, maybe from before.

  Rand looked up, studying each and every face staring down at them. Tracking the path of Wally’s fall, he locked gazes with the young man hovering at the top of the stairs.

  Nathan Delaney.

  22

  WHEN THE GAME ENDED, NATHAN HAD PUSHED PAST THEM AND shot down the bleachers as soon as Rachel and Sherry stepped into the aisle. Something about seeing his friends, he’d said, as if he was too embarrassed to let his mother meet them. She’d wanted to shout after him to be careful on the steps, but he’d melted into the courtside crowd.

  “Are we going for burgers, Mom?” Justin asked.

  That’s what she’d told him, but if they did, there was no way to avoid inviting Gary and Sherry. Gary and Sherry. She wanted to laugh at the rhyme but was afraid it would sound hysterical. “I thought we’d pick up some takeout,” she answered as they hit the gym floor.

  She followed the flow in the direction she thought she’d seen Nathan go. She would meet his friends, no matter how he tried to dodge it.

  “But, Mom,” Justin whined, “I thought we were going to Clancy’s.”

  She’d mentioned that somewhere along the way. Clancy’s had the juiciest burgers in the Santa Clara Valley. Even now, her mouth watered thinking of a teriyaki burger drenched in sauce and mushrooms. You had to eat it with a knife and fork, but it was delicious.

  Oddly, salivating made her think of Rand. Okay, not so odd. He was that kind of man. She’d scanned the crowd, but hadn’t spotted him. He probably didn’t attend many of the games, not wanting to show favoritism to any one sport.