Page 74 of The Boyfriend Swap

My eyes widened. “What? How? Why?” I realized I probably sounded like a high school journalist and blushed.

Hogan chuckled. “I don’t have all the details because it went through the superintendent, but the funds came from a law firm’s private charitable fund and were specifically allocated to the music program at this school for the next five years.”

My mouth fell open, but the only word I could form was, “Wow.”

“It looks like you’re stuck with us for a little bit longer, Ms. Lane. Are you okay with that?”

Faking calmness, I answered, “Yes. Yes, I am,” and presented Principal Hogan with a smile. But as my legs resumed shaking like tree branches during a hurricane, I feared they’d give out before I made it back to my classroom.

The funds came from a law firm’s private charitable fund.

After work, I (easily) persuaded Anne Marie to meet me at one of our favorite neighborhood bars, Dive 75, for happy hour.

“Cheers to you not being out of a job and me not needing a new roommate after you’re forced to move back in with your parents in Philly.” Anne Marie raised her five-dollar pint of Bud Light and clinked it against mine. We were sitting at the bar so Anne Marie could flirt with her crush, Steve the bartender, but the place was at capacity and he had little time to chat.

I took a gulp of my beer. “And cheers to the students not missing out on a music education because they’re too busy learning to converse with German tourists.”

“On behalf of my German ancestors, I must defend the ability to speak fluently in German.Prost,” she said before lifting her glass again and smiling at Steve, who grinned back and slid a bowl of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in front of us. Besides the cheap happy hour specials and friendly bartender, another reason we loved Dive 75 was the free candy. The place didn’t serve food, but patrons were allowed to bring it in from other places. Most of the millennials who frequented Dive 75 were more about liquid sustenance than solid eats anyway.

I pulled a piece of chocolate from the bowl. “The only word you know, I presume?”

Anne Marie shook her head. “Nein. I also knowbier,lederhose, andOktoberfest.”

“All of the essentials.” I chuckled. “I’m not adverse to foreign language curriculum, but I’m happy my school doesn’t have to choose.”

Despite being thrilled my school’s music program had been rescued, I couldn’t get over Principal Hogan’s comments that the hero was a law firm. “Do you think it was Sidney’s way of apologizing for kissing Perry?” I asked Anne Marie, who had pulled her blonde hair out of the ponytail holding it captive and replenished her lipstick, presumably because Steve was now talking to two cute girls sitting at the other side of the bar.

She smirked at me. “Not likely. How would she know about your school? It’s not like she asked me. And besides, she’s on a leave of absence from work.”

I didn’t truly think it was Sidney, but I felt the need to rule her out as a possibility before letting my mind wander to who else it could be. “Why is she on leave?” I asked, before taking a bite of my peanut butter cup and snarling because beer and chocolate were as bad a combination as toothpaste and orange juice.

“Harvey cited personal reasons.” In response to my blank expression, she clarified. “Mr. Bellows. Her dad. Big man on campus.”

I smiled. “Gotcha.”

“I’d like whatever personal issues she’s having. She’s in Barbados.”

My stomach dropped. “You think she’s with Will?” Maybe they’d gotten back together. They’d only been broken up a matter of hours before he called me. For all I knew, they’d made up. Maybe he realized I was right about his interest in me being directly related to losing her. What if she begged him to take her back with reminders of her advanced sexual talents and he caved? This possibility should have made me feel justified in my decision to turn him down and it did—a little. But it mostly made me mad with envy.

Anne Marie looked at me like I’d sprouted horns. “You’re joking, right? You know it was Will, and all you need to confirm it is the name of the law firm.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Or you can just ask him yourself.” She chugged the rest of her beer and called out for Steve. When he glanced our way, she said, “Can we get another round and two Redheaded Slut shots?” before typing something on her phone.

I narrowly escaped choking on my beer.

Anne Marie looked up from her phone. “According to food.com, it’s Jägermeister, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice.”

“I know how to make them, Marianne,” Steve said, using his nickname for Anne Marie. His nickname for me was Lainie. This worked well when we were hit on by undesirables, although up until recently, Perry was usually with us.

“Make one for yourself too,” Anne Marie said.

Steve wordlessly placed another clean shot glass onto the bar, finished mixing the ingredients, and placed one in front of each of us. “What are we toasting?”

Anne Marie lifted her shot glass. “To banishing all ginger-haired sluts to Barbados.”

Steve and I raised our shot glasses to our mouths, but Anne Marie held up her hand. “I’m not finished yet.” She stared me down. “And to childhood crushes and sexy attorneys slash saviors of music education.” She slid the shot down her throat.

Steve looked at her curiously and held his glass up to mine. “To what Marianne just said.”

I clinked my glass against his and whispered, “To Will,” before slamming the shot.

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