Page 31 of One More Chapter

With my fists at my sides, I stomp less than gracefully to the back of the line.

The next batter strikes out, and we have to go stand in the field, which is a terrible idea, because I can’t catch for shit. Sam tells Juliet and I to go stand in right field—apparently that’s where the least amount of balls are hit—and I get to chat with her while the guys handle the actual playing.

“When do we get to eat?” I whine. “I believe I was promised a hot dog.”

“No kidding.” A teacher from Meadow Ridge, who is also hanging in the outfield, shifts over to us. “I’m Amanda White. Seventh grade science.”

I introduce myself, as Juliet has already met her husband’s partner teacher. I don’t miss the way that Jules suddenly flits her left hand with the wedding band toward the sun as she waves at her husband who is now up to bat.

“How did everything go with your move?” I ask. “Are you all unpacked?”

“For the most part.” Suddenly, Sam cracks one out to the opposite side of the outfield that we’re standing in. The three of us watch as the ball sails and a bunch of macho dudes chase after it. “It was definitely hell having to lug everything over. I’m exhausted. Icouldbe at home, but Ellis and your bozo principal stole my last Friday of freedom.”

She crosses her arms and snickers, lifting her brow as if trying to persuade us to join in on her taunting of Anthony and Nathan’s fun-tivity.

Okay. See, here’s the thing.Ican make fun of Ant all I want. I have earned the privilege. Butother people?Oh hell to the no.

“I mean, I’m having fun,” I say, backtracking on my earlier statement. “I just haven’t eaten since like, eleven this morning. I was finishing up some classroom prep so I don’t have to come in this weekend.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” she says, not getting the point. “I could be in my classroom, but instead, we’re out here playing wiffle ball.”

“You would have been in your classroom at five p.m. on a Friday?” Juliet chimes in, lifting her brow. “I thought you were exhausted.”

Jules eyes me slyly, and I can tell that she’s caught on. This woman came with the intent to burn bridges, but what she didn’t realize is that Juliet and I are on the same side. Amanda’s expression sours. She bites the inside of her cheek.

“Anyway. I think this is a great way to get to know people,” I say, despite the fact that my friend and I may have just made an enemy.

“Yeah, sure is. Maybe I’ll catch you guys by the food later.”

She says it as a statement and not a question, and I know without a doubt that, not only will wenotsee her later, but we’ll probably be the talk of segregating gossip with people from her old building within the hour. So much for this little activity bringing our staff together.

The game wraps up without a real score being kept, and Juliet and I regroup with Claire and Lucy while the guys start manning the grills.

“Ladies, this is Phyllis. She’s the social worker over at Meadow Ridge.”

Lucy introduces us to a woman whose grey pixie cut reminds me of a grandmother’s.

“Oooo, fancy! How’d you get a social work contract over at your building?” I ask after we exchange introductions.

“Most of the students with social work minutes in their IEPs are choiced to Meadow Ridge,” she explains.

“Which means we’ll have most of those kids in the split,” I nod.

“Yep. All of them, in fact. I’m excited to have Lucy on my team. It’s hard being the only SEL person on a staff.”

Lucy nods, then adds, “I’m going to be so spoiled this year. What am I going to do when you leave?”

“Use this as an excuse to add in the position for next year,” Phyllis says with a wink. We all immediately look to Claire, who will have her social work degree in time to finagle the much needed role.

“I don’t know if I can take the job if my man is the principal,” she reminds us.

“Take over for me at Meadow Ridge next year then,” Phyllis says. “I’m retiring.”

Claire’s eyes sparkle, and I can instantaneously see the wheels spinning. Everything she ever wanted—her dream job, dream man, all in the same city—coming to life.

While the rest of the group starts conniving different ways to get Claire on staff at Meadow Ridge for the next school year, I slide my phone out of my pocket, open the notes document for my book, and start adding ideas. Claire already knows about my secret life as a best-selling author—and was a fan before she knew that me and PJ Layne are one in the same. I’m sure she won’t mind being part inspiration for my character’s arc that I still haven’t figured out yet.

As I’m filling out my notes, I overhear a conversation from a pod of Meadow Ridge teachers.

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