Page 27 of Please, Sir

“As the kids say?” I shake my head. “When did we get so old?”

He flicks a peanut crumb from his vest. “I don’t know but… man, you know what I wonder sometimes? How did we do it? How did we get through high school so unscathed?”

I shrug, taking a drink of my beer as a woman slides onto the barstool next to me. The place is filling up, and I have half a mind to text Jo Jo and see how her sleepover is going, but remind myself that drinking at the bar and staying off my phone is probably best. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean, kids are so mean to each other. Over stuff they can’t even control. If a kid wears old clothes, they teasehim and it’s fucked up man. Kids can’t control what they have. And the teachers, I’ll tell you what, they aren’t any better.”

I trace the rim of my beer glass with the blunt tip of my finger, my lips twitching with unanswered questions. I haven’t asked Dean about Riley all that much, so asking now won’t make me seem interested. And besides, I’m not interested, I’m curious. There’s a difference.

“How’d Miss Rivers fair after that article?”

Dean’s eyes go wide. “It’s not even the article. She’s… having a rough go. I feel bad for the woman, honestly I do. Bluebell is so amazing, but once you step foot on that high school campus, anyone is fair game, I swear.”

“What do you mean it’s not just the article?” I ask, remembering Riley’s sweet disposition behind the barn months ago. She encouraged Jo Jo to do cheerleading and while I wish that Jo Jo and I could still ride together, the hard truth of it is, I’m happy Jo Jo is enjoying her new sport. I’m also happy that she has an adult to look up to, if it can’t be me. Miss Riley Rivers is a teacher and a coach, and if Jo Jo is going to be persuaded or inspired by someone, I should feel lucky it’s Riley.

“Cadence Caine poured yogurt over her head in the lunchroom this week. I’m pretty sure Leah is her only friend,” Dean says, turning away from me for a moment to greet a few ranchers that sidle up next to him at the bar. Their sons are on the football team, and Dean coaches varsity. After a few minutes of on the field talk, Dean returns his focus my way.

“Leah’s her… friend? Isn’t she like… twenty years older than her?” The principal flashes through my mind. She’s been there since our junior year. How in the world did that friendship happen?

“I’d guess but obviously I don’t know for sure since I’m not asking my boss how old she is,” Dean says, laughing. “Idon’t know how they became friends but… they are. Leah goes into her classroom all the time. And Riley goes to Leah’s office a lot, too. It irritates the other teachers.”

I laugh at that. “Why? It doesn't got a thing to do with them.”

“I don’t disagree but… I don’t know. Jealousy, maybe?” He finishes his beer. “I think the article she wrote was smart. I’m not a parent, so I know I don’t know that I get a say in all this but I’ll tell you what, Jake. I’m around teenage boys all damn day and half the weekend for half the year. They are not too young to hear this stuff. Trust me. I am a walking thesaurus for all the ways in which teenage boys talk about getting laid.”

I can’t help but snort at that. Even if you’re having sex at that age, you’re not doing a good job. “That was us, too,” I recall, almost embarrassed now.

Dean clinks his glass against mine, albeit they’re both empty. “I gave her one of my couches a couple days ago,” he says.

Confusion knits my brows together, and he clarifies. “I was waiting for my new one to be delivered and wanted to get rid of the old one so I posted it in the break room. I didn’t know it was Miss Rivers who took the flyer. She called, gave me her address, and I showed up to an empty little house on the north side of Bluebell and she helped me drag it inside.”

Jealousy that I haven’t felt in years runs through me, making me curl my toes in my boots. “Is that right?”

He nods. “Yep. I asked her how she’s doing, since, you know, that yogurt thing happened right in front of me. And I’ve heard the teachers talking shit in the halls about that article.”

“I still don’t get the harm in that article where teachers are concerned,” I admit. “Parents not liking it, I get it. I don’tagree but I get it. But why the hell do the other teachers care?”

“They think she only got to the front page of the paper because of her ties to Leah. They think she’s gonna get whatever she wants. Better coaching gig. Newspaper articles. Whatever she wants, Leah makes it happen, I guess.” He waves a hand through the air. “I don’t know. I honestly try to stay out of all the drama on campus.”

I chew the inside of my cheek while I count a few seconds, trying not to look overly interested. “So how’s she holding up?”

“Everyone ignored her today.” He looks down at the bar, lines etched across his forehead as he struggles to recall something through the haze of three beers.

I shake my head.

“I like her. I think it was a good article. The cheer girls like her. I think she’s great.”

“Great, huh?” I eye him skeptically and before I can catch myself I ask, “You wanna sleep with her?”

My stomach twists, but it makes no sense that it would get all twisted and hot over Dean liking Riley. It’s gotta be all the beer on an empty stomach. I lift a finger to catch the bartender’s attention, then order myself a burger and fries.

“Sleep with her? No, not at all. I can’t really even be too friendly to her because she’s single and I’m single, and if I’m too nice, everyone’s gonna accuse me of wanting to sleep with her.”

“You really don’t?”

He shakes his head. “She’s sweet. Funny as all hell. She told me a joke at her house that had me in tears. But no. She’s not my type. And even if she were, it’s football season. I don’t need dick-stractions.”

“Cute.”

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