Page 27 of Every Beat of My Heart

Jameson opened the door to his truck. “Owen promised he’d call after tryouts to let me know how it went.”

“I’ll make sure that happens.”

I stepped back and waved before turning toward the house. Jameson was an amazing guy. But he wasn’t for me. He was younger, still trying to figure out his life. And mine was set in stone. I kept my steady teacher job and raised Owen. I didn’t need to discover myself or what I wanted. My purpose in life was upstairs in the shower.

Eric couldn’t be bothered to make sure he was raised properly, so that fell to me. His dad was present but not interested in building confidence or responsibility. So why was Jameson so invested?

I wanted to think it was more than just being nice. That he saw something in me. But that would be ridiculous.

On the porch, I stood and waited for him to pull away from the curb. As much as I wanted someone like Jameson for myself, it would be foolish to think I could have him or that he even wanted me.

There were moments when I swore he felt the same attraction, but then he pulled away. I was looking for something that wasn’t there. Wishing and hoping his actions meant something when I should take his help at face value. He was a nice guy. It didn’t mean anything more than that.

CHAPTER 7

JAMESON

I was substitute teaching and had football tryouts after school. I wrote my name on the board and sat at the desk to go through the email instructions from the current teacher who’d called in sick.

The first kid came into the room and placed his laptop and books on a desk in the back of the room. “Who are you?”

I stood, straightening my tie. “I’m your teacher for the day, Mr. Calloway.”

The kid grimaced. “Great.”

“I hope it will be,” I murmured as more kids came inside, talking and laughing, putting their things by their desks.

It was homeroom. Then there was a period for flex time where the kids went to clubs, were pulled to other classrooms to complete missed work, or they could use the time to do their homework. When I went to school, we called it study hall.

I’d substitute taught enough to know that if I wasn’t in control at all times, the class would quickly become a free-for-all. I straddled the line of being cool yet still firm. I wouldn’t let anyone disrespect me, but I was inclined to let the kids test me out before I sent them to the principal’s office. I wanted the administration to know that I could handle whatever came up.

A kid stood at my desk, his gaze on my name that I’d written on the white board in the front of the room. “Aren’t you the new football coach?”

“I am. Are you trying out?”

“Fuck, no. That shit’s a waste of time.” The kid said it loudly, and a few kids chuckled nervously.

“There’s no swearing in my classroom,” I said it firmly, not raising my voice. The key was to remain calm. This kid needed to know that nothing would rile me.

He kept my gaze for a few seconds, then looked away.

I wanted to pump my fist in victory, but it was too early in the morning for that. I’d be tested a million more times in the next hour. “Please take your seat.”

I knew better than to ever phrase an order as a question.

Thankfully, he turned and made his way to his seat, slapping high fives along the way probably for the swearing and not getting sent to the principal’s office.

I raised my voice to be heard over the din. “Everyone, take your seats. Announcements start in a few minutes.”

“Who cares about announcements?” another kid called out, but I ignored the outburst.

Kids just wanted to voice displeasure about school, and they didn’t care if teachers agreed with them or not.

A bigger kid came into the room, scanning it before making his way to the desk in front of mine. He sat, slumped in the chair, his legs spread wide, then sneered in my direction. “Why are you here? Don’t you have a real job?”

I stifled a grin. I loved this question. “I’m a firefighter.”

“No, you’re not,” the first kid who challenged me called out from his seat in the back of the room.

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