Page 31 of A Chance at Forever
“Apparently, you do,” Steve interjected and smothered a laugh.
“Go ahead. Make fun of me. But I call it creative fishing.”
Everyone laughed and the levity continued for the rest of the evening.
At eight o’clock, Victoria announced her leave. Rusty’s presence sent her nerves jumping every time he came near her. He emanated power and authority tempered by a gentleness of spirit that endeared him to her friends and their kids. Mark and Stevie adored him, and she could see that Rusty and Steve shared a strong bond of friendship. Even Mia doted on him. Though Victoria trusted her friends’ judgment, she couldn’t count on her own. She’d been so wrong about Alan.
“I’ll drive you home,” Steve offered after Victoria bid everyone good night.
“Wait a minute. I’ll walk her home,” Rusty declared. “After all, we’re going in the same direction.”
Victoria’s heart skipped a beat. “No, no, stay and visit. There’s no need for you to leave on my account. I don’t need an escort.”
“I’m ready to call it a night myself. Besides, I don’t intend to let you walk alone.”
“This isn’t New York City,” she snapped when she lost the argument, and he helped her into her sweater. He carried the half-empty container of brownies. “Besides, I have Bud.”
Silence descended as they strolled beneath black velvet skies dusted with silver stars.
After a few minutes, Rusty commented, “You’re a hard woman to get to know, Tori.”
Her defenses stood guard against him. “Why does it matter to you?”
Rusty shot her a sharp look. “Because we have friends in common that we both love. Because I don’t understand your aversion to being friends with me.”
“Because I don’t want to get played by you. Someone told me that you don’t date. Well, to be clear, I’m not interested in dating, either. Oranythingtawdry.”
They reached her front porch, and she unlocked her door. “Perhaps you should remember what Robert Frost said in one of his poems. ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’” Without another word, she closed her door with a softclick.
Victoria trembled with remorse. She slid down the door and drew her knees up to her chin. Bud let out a questioning whine and nudged his head in between her knees and her arms. She held him close to her and buried her nose in his fur.
“I like him, Bud. I won’t be able to resist Rusty if I don’t stay away from him.”
Perhaps it was a moot point. From the light spilling beneath her door, she’d seen Rusty’s jaw tighten with anger when she insulted him. He’d leave her alone now.
A hollow success.
*
The air resonatedwith excitement at school the following week as everyone anticipated the kick-off pep rally on Friday. Victoria believed she was one of few teachers who enjoyed the loud, noisy pep rallies every Friday afternoon before the game that evening. During the last three years she’d missed this high school ritual and anticipated the fun.
Over the next few days, every club and organization on campus made banners with catchy slogans and hung them around the building. The cheerleaders pasted small construction paper footballs on every bare wall for students to sign as they passed through the halls. The game was on everyone’s mind as the Marysville Bears faced one of their toughest opponents of the season. The Sutter High Leopards from a neighboring town.
Victoria read the skit her drama class wrote and chuckled. “This is marvelous. Fast-paced, loaded with action, and funny. Who worked on it?”
Troy looked at Brian. “Well, we had help from an unexpected person. Billy Simpson came up with the idea and drew these sketches. Brian and I followed his directions.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Well! Will wonders never cease.”
Billy Simpson was a quiet freshman, a small fourteen-year-old bookworm-ish boy. He was teased by his peers in other classes, and Victoria hoped she could help him overcome his shyness through drama. So far he had performed below her expectations until now.
“Billy!” she called. He shuffled to the front of the auditorium and stood with his head down, causing his black plastic-framed glasses to slip to the end of his nose. “Is this your idea?” She indicated the script.
He nodded and pushed up his glasses. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Congratulations. I think we’ve finally found a niche for you. These sketches are excellent. How would you like to be in charge of sets and script writing?”
Billy’s smile was like the sun breaking through a dark cloud. To his immense pride, Troy and Brian slapped him on the back and offered their congratulations. Billy grew inches taller in self-esteem. It wasn’t every day two of the most popular guys in school accepted you into their clique.
