Page 47 of Pin-up Girl

“I already have plans with Clint.” Which I was sure Brodie would misinterpret.

“He invited himself on our date last night.” There was no malice in Brodie’s voice.

That wasn’t… Was it? Maybe it was. “This isn’t a date.”

“Does Clint know that?”

Why wouldn’t he? “We hang out a lot at night. Dee will probably be there. It’s not a big deal.”

“Want a fourth?” Brodie asked.

Sure. That answer was easy. I didn’t want either man thinking I was dating them. But I wouldn’t tell Evie or Alys yes in a case like this, without checking with the person who made the plans, first. “It’s Clint’s invite, ask Clint.”

Brodie handed me the food he’d brought. “See you tonight. If that asshole comes back, scream as loud as you can, and I’ll be here.”

“That asshole is my sister’s fiancé.” The reminder was for me as much as for him.

“I said what I said.”

“Thank you.” This was so fucked up. What was going on with my sister?

14

clint

School started in less than a week, and that meant getting my classroom ready. Which meant I was blasting nineties dance music from the portable speaker I had for my phone.

Dee was going to her mother’s early, because Dee begged me to go to dance practice tonight, and promised she would just watch. I’m already going to be behind, at least I can see what they’re learning.

Which also meant this was my last day with my daughter for a while, and I wanted to hang out with her. Fortunately, she didn’t mind spending time with me at the high school.

I finished hanging a laminated periodic table poster, singing the elements to the tune of Salt-N-Pepa’s Shoop.

“At least other embarrassing parents sing the sex lyrics,” Dee said from the spot where she was stocking the closet that held gloves, litmus strips, and other disposables. She wanted to earn enough for a new pair of shoes that she was nuts for. The deal was, if she gave me her time this morning, she could have the shoes.

I grabbed last year’s stack of dry erase markers, and made mark after mark on the new poster, erasing lines that showed up and tossing the markers that didn’t leave one. “Other embarrassing parents aren’t the triple threat I am.”

“Triple threat. Uh-huh.” Dee gave an unimpressed huff. “You’re out of tune, your moves are so last decade, and your music is cringe.”

“Whoa.” I grabbed the next poster from the stack flattening on the table in the front of the room. “Do not dis the tunes.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Hey, Xerxes, play Ariana Grande.”

“I can sing to that just as easily,” I warned.

Dee wrinkled her nose. “I’m pretending you can’t. Where are the pipettes?”

I ticked through the list in my head, and pointed to one of the boxes in the corner. “Should be in there. If they’re not, check the bag in back.” I sang the words to the music for i wish i hated you.

“Pretending you’re not chuegy,” she called over her shoulder as she headed to the first location.

I laughed and went back to my work.

After Regina ensured I was blackballed from most local professional dance companies, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Moving out of state wasn’t an option because I wouldn’t leave Dee behind. I had a minor in chemistry, and was friends with one of the teachers at the high school in Haddarville. I was hesitant to accept a job here, but it turned out that the performance a teacher did was its own kind of dance.

I also coached the cheerleading team. Everyone in the school did more than one job—this wasn’t the kind of place where we had extra teachers.

I kept half an eye on Dee, who headed into a windowed-off portion of the room to look for supplies, while I sang and danced and hung another poster.

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