Beauty and the Baller

“No,” he mutters.

“Right. So let’s pretend Julius Caesar is an opponent, one you must beat to get to state. One step at a time.”

He sighs and opens his notebook. “All right. You did save us from the goat thing. I’ll cut you some slack and get to work.”

One of the girls raises her hand.

“Yes?”

“Is it true you’re dating Coach? Is that who left you the rose on your desk?”

I glance over at the long-stemmed yellow rose that was here when I came in. Andrew. He said he had a gift for me this weekend—

“Granny told me you were dating Coach,” Milo says.

“Milo told me,” Toby says.

“My hot cheerleader girlfriend told me,” Bruno adds.

“Does everyone know?” I ask as I raise my arms.

They all nod.

“He’s pretty hot,” a girl murmurs under her breath.

“Don’t tell him,” I mutter, and then I’m saved from further comments when the bell rings and they grab their books and laptops.

Bruno stands and walks to the door, grinning back at me. “You sure we have to do the questions?”

“Yes!” I call out. “Ask me again, and I’ll double it.”

He scoots out of the room, and I wilt and lean over the desk with my head in my hands. God help me. I need a drink. Maybe a toke of that e-cigarette.

“Ms. Morgan?”

Shit, I thought they were gone. I rise up from my desk. A long sigh comes from my chest. “Toby, what do you need?”

He shuffles his feet. “Uh, I wanted to, you know, talk to you about Sabine. I—I really like her.”

Yeah, buddy. I’ve noticed, and Sabine and I have discussed her going out with Toby, but . . .

“She’s a freshman, and you’re a junior. In the grand scheme of things, that may not seem like much of an age difference, but for her . . .” I squint. I really don’t know what kind of young man he is, but I’m protective of my sister. And the truth is I’m winging this.

He nods, his throat bobbing. “The first day I saw her, I—I thought she was the prettiest girl in the whole school.”

“But do you know her, Toby? Her personality? How she’s different, and when I say different, I mean that in a brilliant way.”

He straightens his shoulders. “She has autism. I got some books about it from Dog’s.”

“Okay.”

“I want to, like, ask her out, officially, on a date. Maybe to the movies. Actually, I’ve already asked her, and she said I had to ask you, so . . .” He shrugs.

Movies? In a dark auditorium? Hell to the no.

But at least she told him to ask me . . .

“She isn’t allowed to date yet, Toby,” I say gently.

He looks at the ground, then back up at me. “I know you don’t know me, but I think she’s incredible. Smart. She helps me with my history. I know she doesn’t like to touch her eraser and that the fire alarm makes her jittery. She rubs her ring when she gets anxious. She doesn’t always get what people say, and I like that about her. She’s not like other girls. She says what she thinks, too, and there’s no pretending.”

“How many girls have you dated, Toby?”

“A few. I had a girlfriend last year.”

“How long did you date her?”

“Six months.” He gives me a wary glance.

“And you kissed her and . . .” More . . .

He reddens. “I know she’s never had a boyfriend. I’d treat her with respect. I haven’t even kissed her.”

That’s good to know. There’s a silence as I study him. The earnest face. The boy-next-door looks.

Sabine dashes in my door, sees Toby, stops for a moment, and then rushes forward. “You’re dating Coach?” she calls. “I thought you told me everything I needed to know, and everyone knows but me!”

I close my eyes. She didn’t hear me tell Jimmy during the goat incident. “Yes. I’m sorry. It happened fast. Is everything okay?” I’ve been putting off telling her because I can’t tell her it’s pretend. I’m not sure she wouldn’t tell someone—not with the intent to make trouble but because she doesn’t always understand the necessity for a white lie. If I asked her if my butt looked big in this skirt, she’d tell me the truth.

“If you’re dating Coach, then I want to go out with Toby,” she says.

“Sabine, it doesn’t work that way. You can’t use this as leverage—”

“We can double-date,” she says. “You and Coach can be there. Everyone does that. Even Lacey’s mom lets her boyfriend come over while she’s home.”

I pick up my satchel and stuff my materials in. “We’ll talk later.”

“When is later?”

“I don’t know,” I say.

“I need to know when later is. Tell me!”

What would Mama say? She’d stay calm. She wouldn’t yell back at her. I inhale a deep breath. “Watch your tone, Sabine. This isn’t the place. It’s where I work and where you take classes.”