Page 20 of Finding Hope

We’d get fired in a hot second if we were stashing hard liquor in our desk drawers.

Rolling her eyes, Laine pulls up a chair and lays out her foot-long sandwich, and as soon as she unwraps it and tosses a green pepper into her mouth, she repeats my groan and slumps. “Vodka sounds so good right now. I wish! It’s only lunchtime, and we still have a whole afternoon before freedom.” Chewing like a common cow in pasture, she narrows her eyes. “I bet none of my kids studied for their quiz.”

“Do you remember when we were eleven, and wehatedpop quizzes? Do you remember how we planned to egg Ms. Laster’s house?”

Gritting her teeth, she nods. “I remember.”

I have nightmares about my kids. “Do you think any of the kids will egg ours?”

“God, I hope not. I don’t have the energy for cleaning dried egg on my weekend. Please, God.” Dropping her sandwich and turning her eyes to the ceiling, she prays. “Please, lord. I don’t have time for that shit.”

Sipping my Diet Coke, I snort and slap her praying hands down. “You fool.”

Scoffing, she resumes eating her giant sandwich. “Whatever. You wanna go out tonight?”

Nodding, I pat down mysensiblework slacks, with mysensiblesilky blouse, and tap mysensiblepumps against myprofessionaldesk. My nose twitches in search of the jewelry I can’t wear at work, and my face feels all but naked with the light layers of mascara and not much else.

“Uh-huh. I’m desperate for a night out.” I enjoy getting dressed up. I enjoy finding theotherme; the wilder, freer version. It’s exhausting being this prima ballerina, Ms. Sensible five days a week. Weekends with the girls are my time to relax.

“188?”

Smiling, I think of the last time I was there. The man I kind-of-met. “Of course. It’s a great club. The new owners have really cleaned it up.”

Laine laughs. “How would you know? We never stepped foot in therebeforethe new owners got it.”

“The guys told me.” Shrugging, a part of me wonders if the hot guy was the owner. He had keys to an office – that much, I know. “They said it used to be owned by some shady people. They sold drugs and stuff through that place, but now it’s clean and full of bouncers keeping it under control.”

“Eh.” She pops a long piece of purple onion between her lips. “The bouncers are hot. The servers are hot. The dancers are hot. Hey! Did you ever hear back from that guy you met?”

“God, no! We didn’t even exchange names. Jesus. I wasnotgoing out to become a stage five clinger just because the guy had sexy arms.”

Lifting her lips wolfishly, she kicks my foot under the desk. “Didn’t even exchange names. You dirty,dirtygirl. It was good, though, right? He was a gentleman?”

“A gentleman?”

“He let you finish first, right?”

Laughing, I wish again for my makeup to mask the blush rushing to my cheeks. “Yeah. It wassogood.”And a lot dirty.

Chuckling, Laine takes another giant bite of her chicken sub, then drops the rest back in the paper packaging and wraps it up. “Alright. Jess and I will come over to yours and get ready. You wanna call Kari, or me?”

“I’ll just text. She’s not on shift tonight, so we’re clear. In the meantime, I have a parent-teacher meeting to survive.”

“Oh, God. Who with?”

“Evie Kincaid got in a fight.”

“Shiiiiit.”Laine groans and brushes her hands as though to say she’s done with me. “Good luck with that. Say it gently, then duck and run before her dad chokes you out.”

Choking on my lunch, I spit a soggy chunk of bread onto my desk and clap my chest. “Laine! You’re such an idiot!” I cough. “Jesus. I’m sure they’re nice.” I hope.Choking me out is illegal, right?“Maybe we should do it in the cafeteria… you know, witnesses and all that.”

Laughing, she slaps my thigh and stands. “If you don’t survive, can I have your Pokémon collection? I still didn’t get thatyou’re-gonna-die-achuone.”

“Get out of my classroom!” I throw my bottlecap at her head. “Go! You’re a terrible friend!”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid.” Like the professional adult I pretend to be, I step back to allow the couple entry. “Come on in. Please take a seat.”

We’re in my classroom –notthe cafeteria – twenty minutes after the final bell of the day, and there’s a notablelackof witnesses.

---