The Player Next Door

“I think I’m ready. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“I knew you would be. You were always a conscientious student, Scarlet.” She smiles with assurance. “It makes me happy to see how well you’re doing.”

You mean, despite my dubious upbringing?

What must it have been like for Wendy to be the principal of this school and deal with my mother and Mayor Rhodes’s scandal? That night was a chain reaction of horrors. It began when a second grader vomited on the floor backstage and two children slipped in regurgitated SpaghettiOs. A helpful parent volunteer ran to the janitor’s room in a rush to get the mop bucket. Obviously, the mayor did not count on a nervous puker when he and my mom stealthily slipped away. The volunteer’s entry was so sudden, her shriek of surprise so loud, rumor has it Mayor Rhodes lost his balance trying to pull up his pants and ended up sprawled on the floor with his unmentionables hanging out for a small crowd.

For Dottie’s part, she did seem more solemn in the weeks after that, staying home and trying to be a more attentive mom. I don’t know how long that affair had been going on and I never asked her if she expected the mayor to leave his wife for her. I didn’t care. She’d humiliated me. Thankfully, she never attended another school event again.

“You might see a few familiar faces from your childhood here tonight. I know of a few old students coming back through with their young ones.” Wendy smiles. “It’s a joy to see new generations.”

“A joy,” I echo, as if in agreement, though I feel anything but joy at the thought of seeing Penelope here. If she’s anything like Becca described, I’m guessing I won’t be hearing an apology from her tonight.

But I’m even more anxious to see Shane, if he comes. How will he act toward me? Will he continue keeping his distance? That’s probably for the best. Still, I hate it.

I heard the rumble of his engine last night at almost 10:00 p.m. That’s a four-hour dinner. Who the hell eats dinner for four hours? People who went somewhere to have sex after, that’s who. Every time I think of Shane with another woman, my insides coil with disappointment.

At least he came home alone. I know because I turned off all my lights and spied from my window like a masochistic lunatic. Then I tossed and turned all night, pondering whether I’ve saved myself from heartache or if I’ve sabotaged potential lifelong happiness.

At this point in my obsessive dwelling, it’s a toss-up.

“Good luck!” With a rap of her knuckles against the door, Wendy is gone, her worn heels clicking down the hall toward Becca’s classroom.

I could use a restroom break and a drink of water before this circus starts. I check my phone to make sure I have time. There’s a highly inappropriate meme involving Batman and a studious-looking teacher on her desk from Justine, who knows I’m nervous about tonight. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I mutter under my breath, chuckling as I quickly delete it.

“Probably shouldn’t curse like that in front of parents,” a deep male voice says, making me jump.

I spin around to find Shane in the doorway, in his usual ensemble of jeans and T-shirt—this time a vintage Pearl Jam soft cotton that clings to his frame without being too tight. He makes casual look good like no other man I know.

“What are you doing here so early?” My heart races both from surprise and relief, glad it was Shane and not someone else who overheard that.

“Am I early?” He strolls in, checking the clock on the wall over his shoulder. “Huh. I guess I am. I wanted to get a front-row seat. These things get packed, from what I remember.” He settles against a desk, stretching his long legs out ahead of him and folding his arms over his chest. His mesmerizing eyes flitter over the plum wrap blouse and black pencil skirt I chose for the night, down to my most “professional” heels, lingering a moment there, before he shifts his focus to the board to scan my notes. “So that’s what my knucklehead kid is going to learn this year.”

At least we can find common ground. “Your knucklehead kid is actually smart. And polite.” Cody raises his hand, he participates, and he finishes his work on time. But what was more impressive is that I heard him tell some of the poorly behaved boys who were teasing the girls to cut it out. It stunned me to see that his bully of a mother could raise her son to have basic manners and respect—but perhaps that’s his father’s influence. “He’s impressed me, more than once.”

“Well, that says something. Scarlet Reed is not an easy one to impress.” Shane’s lips curls into a playful smile. “I should know. I keep failing miserably at it.”