by Score, Lucy
“A human Pinterest fail? I feel like that’s uncalled for.”
“Admit it. You’re jealous of me.” Amie Jo was turning an unnatural shade of red, and I worried about her blood pressure. She was like one of those Instant Pots. You didn’t want that bursting open.
“Whoa. Let’s hang on there a second,” Jake was back at my side. “Amie Jo, I don’t know what you were told, but Marley couldn’t have had anything to do with that prank.”
“It was her! I know it was,” Amie Jo insisted. “If she didn’t tamper with the sprinklers yesterday, she did it the night before.”
“She was with me the night before. All night. Speaking of,” Jake said, sliding his arm around my waist. It was an incredibly inappropriate time for my nipples to go hard. “Do you mind if we do dinner at my house tonight. Last I heard, dining naked is frowned upon at Cashews.” He leaned in and nibbled at my ear.
I could hear him. He was speaking English. But my brain was inserting word salad for what he must actually be saying. Jake Weston was not telling Amie Jo that he wanted to get me naked for dinner. Was he?
I looked at her. She had an expression of horror, revulsion.
Okay, maybe he actually said it. “Baby?” he asked. He pinched me, hard.
I made a yelping noise and then recovered. “Uh. Yeah. Fine. Naked dinner at your place is…fine.”
Amie Jo’s perfect pink lips worked their way through what looked like several four-letter words before any noise came out.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. Are you two—”
“Dating,” Jake filled in. “Yeah. One look at Marley here during preseason, and I remembered all of those high school feelings that never went away.”
Amie Jo looked like she was trying to say a word that started with “f.” Her front teeth were wearing off all that sparkly lipstick.
“I’ll make your favorite,” Jake said leaning down to give me a peck on my cheek before hurrying off.
The bell rang, and I decided it was just smarter to leave Amie Jo standing there eating her own lipstick. I ducked into the locker room and, as a precaution, threw the deadbolt. What in the holy hell had just happened?
One kiss and…and what? He’d swooped in, riding to the rescue with first Vince and then Amie Jo.
“Yo, Cicero!” Floyd the Coward called through the gym door.
I yanked it open. “I didn’t know you could run that fast, Floyd.”
“No shame, man. That woman terrifies me.”
“Why’s she so mad anyway?” I asked.
Floyd pointed over his shoulder into the gym. There was a velvet backdrop set up.
“It’s Picture Day.”
24
Jake
“Principal Eccles,” I said, stepping into her office. “How goes the molding of young minds?” I was pouring on the charm. It was a leftover from my youthful indiscretions. Trips to the principal’s office still made me a bit uneasy.
“Jake, I never thought I’d see the day,” she said with a small smile.
“What day?” Okay, I was definitely nervous.
She held up a neat stack of papers and waved it at me. “This day.”
“Sorry, I’m late.” Marley barreled in the door out of breath and pink-cheeked in a way that made me immediately envision her naked on rumpled sheets. My rumpled sheets. “One of the freshmen put their combination lock on backwards, and well…” Her torrent of words slowed when she spotted me making myself at home in the chair.
“This will just take a quick minute out of both your days,” Principal Eccles said, sliding matching paperwork toward us both. “I heard the news that you two have entered into a personal relationship.”
Marley’s face went an even brighter shade of pink, and her brown eyes widened. “Oh, uh, that isn’t exactly—”
“Have a seat, Mars,” I insisted, tugging her into the chair next to mine and kept her hand in mine once she was settled. She looked at me as if I’d gone and lost my damn mind. Maybe I had.
“As I was saying to Jake here,” Principal Eccles continued. “I never thought I’d see the day when he’d be signing one of these contracts. But I guess we all grow up eventually.”
“Contracts?” Marley repeated. She yanked her hand out of my grip.
Oh, this was going to be good.
“Here in the Culpepper School District, we don’t like to do things like forbid staff from dating,” Principal Eccles launched into her HR speech. “What we do ask is that teachers who enter into relationships continue to set a good example for the students.”
“Naturally,” I said.
Marley’s head whipped in my direction. The look she shot me telegraphed a loud and clear “WTF?”
“We, uh. That is, Jake and I haven’t exactly defined what this thing is,” Marley said weakly.
“And that’s exactly why we have this contract. We certainly don’t expect our staff to give up their romantic lives just to be teachers. But we do require you to set a standard. One-night stands and short-lived, volatile relationships teach these hormone-addled teens that monogamy is, for lack of a better word, lame.” She slid two pens across the desk at us.
“It’s up to you to prove the opposite. So all I ask is you date exclusively for the remainder of the semester. Preferably the entire school year. But given both your histories and the temporary aspect of Ms. Cicero’s position here, that would be rather lofty.”
“You want me to sign a contract to be in a monogamous relationship with Jake Weston for the rest of the semester?” Marley looked pale like she’d just been given three months to live.
“Great summary, honey,” I said, cheerfully patting her bare knee. The woman was going to need CPR from the looks of it. “We’re happy to sign the contract,” I told the principal.
She looked relieved.
“Thank God. When Amie Jo sprinted in here purple-faced with the news, I was worried I’d have a problem on my hands,” Principal Eccles sighed. “She seemed rather insistent that there was no way the two of you were actually dating.”
“I can’t imagine why she’d think we weren’t being honest.” I was the epitome of innocence. “Can you, sweetheart?”
Marley didn’t answer to the endearment, so I kicked her.
She jerked out of her shock coma. “Oh. Uh. No. I can’t imagine, dear? Babe? Jake.”
I reached out and took her hand again. From all appearances, it looked like a sweet gesture, but I applied a little more pressure than necessary.
“Great. Because I have zero tolerance for adult drama in this building. Got it? I get enough of it from students and parents all day, every day. I’m going to do what it takes to keep this ship sailing smoothly. And if your relationship blows up or either of you give Amie Jo the tiniest excuse to go batshit obsessive over this like the Ninth Grade Class Trip Fiasco, I will not hesitate to take it out on you.”
I was basically crushing Marley’s hand, grinding her bones into a fine dust.
Faced with losing to Amie Jo, she recovered admirably. “We understand, Principal Eccles. I know that Amie Jo and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but you can count on Jake and me to maintain our…” Marley glanced at me, “decorum.”
“Wonderful. Now, if you’ll both just sign here and here and initial page three, you can be on your way.”
* * *
“What the fuck was that?” Marley hissed as soon as we exited the inner sanctum of the front office.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning back against the trophy case.
“I’m welcome?” Her brown eyes were a little crazed, and I was enjoying the show. “Do you think you just rode to my rescue or something?”
“Yeah. I do.” Not only had I rescued a damsel in distress, I’d also fibbed to an authority figure. Both sides of my personality were pretty damned pleased.
“I don’t need rescuing!”
“Said the woman who could have hospitalized her ent
ire team,” I reminded her.
“Not that again.”
“Now, you pick on Coach Dickweed and the boys varsity soccer team, who are as close to Jesus as you can get in Central Pennsylvania. And then you piss off Amie Jo ‘Evil Queen’ Hostetter. Do you have any idea what that woman is capable of?”
“Yes!” Marley shrieked. “For fuck’s sake, yes! Of course I know! And Culpepper knows exactly what I’m capable of.”
Classes were in session, and the lunch ladies were staring at us, so I pulled Marley to the closest exit. Outside, it was warm and sunny with just the slightest edge to the air. A sliver of the scent of autumn rode the breeze.
“You need a goddamn keeper. It’s like you’re trying to make terrible choices,” I told her.
“You’re not my teacher or my keeper, and my choices are mine to make. I just signed a contract under duress without even reading it! And now we’re what? Fake dating? For the rest of the semester? What happens if we fake break up? Do I get real fired?”
Damn. I really liked this girl. Even furious, she was funny.
“Pretty much. There’s something about an ethics clause or some shit. I think you can go before a review board in case of emergency.”
She was pacing, and every time she turned away, I couldn’t help but admire the shapely curve of her ass under her khaki shorts. Marley Cicero had a really nice ass.
“Why does this shit keep happening to me?” She wasn’t talking to me anymore. She was communicating with a higher power.
“Look. Let’s face it. You need me. I can help you with coaching, teaching. Whatever. You said it yourself. Your life’s a mess. Use me as a resource. I guarantee I can turn your life around by December.”
“So you’re a life coach now? Jesus, Jake. Why are you even doing this?”
“Maybe I hate to see potential wasted.”
“Don’t bullshit me. I remember you once stole a goat and locked it in the vice principal’s office over the weekend. You don’t do things out of the kindness of your heart. You do it for the entertainment value.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” I said, appreciating the fond memory as it arose.
“Why, Jake?” she asked again.
“I’m not exaggerating when I say Amie Jo would have made it her life’s mission to ruin yours, and she would have made the rest of us miserable in the process. She’s a terrible, terrible human being.”
“Uh-huh. You expect me to believe that you’ve willingly labeled yourself my boyfriend for the next four months so you don’t have to witness Amie Jo destroy me.”
“And there’s the other thing.”
“What other thing?”
“We’ve shared exactly two kisses now. Both of which have resulted in some serious brain frying. I liked it. Both times.”
“I don’t want a pity fake boyfriend,” she insisted, her jaw tightening.
“There’s no pity, and stop being a dumbass. I’ve been doing some thinking recently, that maybe it’s time I settle down…sometime. In the future. Eventually.”
She closed her eyes and then opened them. I liked the inky line of her lashes. “I don’t think you’re speaking English.”
I gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe if I help you with your teaching and coaching, you could help me navigate a monogamous relationship. Like a practice run.”
“You want me to help you practice being in a relationship?”
“Yeah. You’ve done long-term relationships before, right?”
She stared at me for a long minute and then nodded slowly.
“Good! See? It’s a mutually beneficial fake relationship. I keep Amie Jo off your back and help you not suck as an employee here, and you can get me into relationship shape.”
“I can’t decide if this is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard or if it’s marginally less terrible than letting Amie Jo publicly crucify me at the next pep rally.”
“Your choice, sweetheart. Though I should warn you, the district takes their contracts pretty seriously. If you go back in there and tell Eccles it was all a lie, well, let’s just say neither one of us can afford an unpaid suspension.”
She mouthed a string of four-letter words, and I tried not to laugh.
The bell rang inside.
“Dammit.” Marley trudged up the steps toward the door. She paused, her hand on the handle. “Jake? How many of those contracts have you signed?”
“Counting this one?”
“Yeah.”
“One.”
25
Marley
Thanks to a mishap with the field hockey equipment in the storage room, I was late for practice. I’d managed to get my foot stuck in a volleyball net and fell into the cage, knocking the door open. Sticks and balls went everywhere. I fell two more times before I managed to wrangle everything back into its home.
Sore, battered, and psychologically exhausted from the day, I climbed the concrete steps to the practice field.
I don’t know what I expected to find—perhaps a wrestling match between disgruntled teenage girls or a homicide in progress—but it sure wasn’t my team lined up and applauding me.
The surprise was so sharp that I turned around and looked over my shoulder to see who they were clapping for.
“Let’s hear it for Coach Cicero,” Vicky shouted through megaphone hands. She had a voice that carried whether it was in study hall or the library or across fifty yards of grass. She could have made a living out of announcing sports for teams that couldn’t afford audio equipment.
The girls whooped it up, and I approached cautiously, not trusting their enthusiasm. They encircled me, and I braced for an attack or at least some spitting and pointy elbows.
“Did you see Austin’s face today? It was like Hawaiian Punch red,” one of the girls squealed.
“You should have seen Coach stare down that ass Coach Vince this morning. He came at her like a bull in a field, and she was all ‘ho hum, you bore me,’” Angela said with…was that respect or sarcasm?
“And then Mr. Weston is all ‘let’s calm down now,’” Morgan E. said, doing a decent impression of his rumbly baritone. “You guys are, like, dating, right?”
“He’s so gorgeous,” Phoebe swooned.
“I really am, aren’t I?” This time it wasn’t someone impersonating the baritone. It was the real deal. Jake strolled into our circle.
Vicky elbowed me so hard in the gut that I lost the air in my lungs.
“Mr. Weston, are you and Coach dating?”
“Can we be your bridesmaids?”
“Mrs. Hostetter did not seem happy today. Do you think it’s because her son’s hair was pink for picture day or because Coach stole her crush out from under her?”
“Shhh! We’re not supposed to talk about the red thing!”
“She can’t have a crush! She’s married!”
“My mom has a list of celebrities she’s allowed to sleep with if she ever runs into them.”
“For the love of God, everyone shut up, or you’re all going to run laps,” I said. I really needed to get a whistle. The giggles and peanut gallery comments quieted. “You,” I said, pointing at Jake. “What are you doing here?”
“My team has a long run on their own today. Ends back here. Thought I’d observe you in action.” He winked at me, and I wanted to punch him in his smug face.
“Oooooh,” the team squealed with delight.
“We have a lot to talk about later,” I warned him.
The “Ooooh” was now more “someone’s in trouble” tinged.
“I’m all yours, Miss Cicero.”
Vicky fanned herself while I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly popped out of my head.
“Okay, everybody line up. We’re going to practice throw-ins and corner kicks,” I snapped.
* * *
“Well, that was probably our best practice yet,” Vicky observed, slinging a bag of balls over her shoulder as we waved the girls off. The sun was getting a little lowe
r in the sky, and it was almost cool enough for the warm-up jacket I had in my back seat. Jake was huddled with his cross-country team, doing whatever it was that a cross-country coach did.
“Yeah. Not horrible,” I agreed. It hadn’t been the usual disaster of in-fighting and bitching and moaning. I doubted that we’d made any real progress on moving the ball back into play, but at least there hadn’t been any fistfights. Lisabeth had sauntered in twenty minutes late with a bogus “I was at the gynecologist” excuse and a bunch of snide comments. I hadn’t realized until she’d arrived how nice those twenty Lisabeth-free minutes had been.
The scrimmage at the end of practice still highlighted our complete lack of offensive strategy. But at least we were starting to communicate on the field. Jake had been taking mental notes, and I was maybe a little interested in hearing what he had to say.
“Sooooo…” Vicky did a little shimmy with her shoulders. “Heard you and Jake had to sign the We Promise Not to Be Dirty Little Whores contract.”
“Jesus, V! How did you hear that?”
She shrugged. “Eh, there was an email that went out. Bet Amie Jo shit a brick.”
“An email?” Of course there was an email. When I was in school, neighbors would run door to door to spread the word because our dial-up internet was too slow. Now, thanks to fiber optics and high-speed internet you could blast an entire school district in a matter of seconds. “And yeah, she wasn’t exactly thrilled.”
“Knew it,” she sang. “Doesn’t it feel good? All of these years later, you’re finally getting back at her.”
“Yeah, over something she shouldn’t even have an opinion on. How can she care who Jake does or doesn’t date? Isn’t she, I don’t know, married?”
“Amie Jo stakes her claims on what she wants, and it’s up to the rest of us to respect those claims.”
“Um. That’s bullshit.”
Vicky peered over her blue lenses at me. She looked like Penny Lane from Almost Famous today. “You know what a nightmare she was in high school. It follows that, with a fat bank account and no authority figures brave enough to stand up to her, she’d become an even bigger monster.”
