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“You coming, Miss Johnson?” Tyler yells back at me.
I pick up my pace. I’m following after him, and I have no clue why.
We walk toward a small wooden stage where a bunch of kids from the class are sitting on bales of hay. Silver buckets are spaced five feet apart, and there’s another huge can full of apples.
“I need teams of two to come stand in front of each bucket,” an older gentleman with a cowboy hat explains.
“Dad, let’s do it!” Krew pulls on Tyler’s arm, dragging him up to the stage.
After a few more seconds of other students pairing off into teams, the old man explains the game. “This is calledPass the Apple. One team member will start with an apple tucked in their neck and walk it over to the middle. The other team member has to take the apple from them, tuck it in their neck, walk it over to the other bucket, and drop it inside. Here’s the only rule”—the old man pauses for dramatic effect—“you can’t use your hands.”
The kids laugh and clap in delight, and I catch Tyler raise his eyebrows at Krew.
“You can use the rest of your body to pass the apple, but if it drops on the ground, the first person has to go back and get a new apple. Does everyone understand?”
“Yes!” the kids say in unison.
The old man looks at the teams and shakes his head. “Now, hold up.” He goes over to Krew and gently moves him away from Tyler to a new bucket. “Your team won’t work because your partner is too tall.” He pulls Gibson from his bale of hay and pairs him with Krew. Then his eyes scan over the crowd until they land on me.
Oh, no.
I take a step back.
I’ve seen this game before at family reunions, and there is no way I’m playing it with Tyler.
But the man gestures for me to come to him. “You’re tall. You be partners with this gentleman.”
Tyler’s eyes light up with amusement.
“Come on, now.” The man waves me over again.
“I’m good.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to play.”
The students start chanting, “Ms. John-son! Ms. John-son! Ms. John-son!”
No amount of seven-year-old peer pressure will get me to play this game.
“I’ll do it!” Beverly raises her hand in the back. She removes her jacket, revealing a tank top underneath. My eyes scan over her toned arms and her very nice amount of cleavage. There’s a lot of bare J Lo skin, and suddenly I can’t stand the thought of Tyler playing this game with beautiful Bev.
I find myself walking up to the stage, motioning for Bev to sit back down. “I better do it for the kids.”
I’m face to face with Tyler.
The corner of his mouth rises into a crooked smile. “For the kids?”
“Shut up,” I say under my breath.
He laughs, fully aware of my motives.
“Are you ready for this, Miss Johnson?”
It’s no big deal.
I’m doing thisforthe kids.
“Ready? Go!” the man yells.
Tyler scrambles to the first bucket. It takes him a second, but he manages to get an apple into his neck and walk it over to me. I hesitate before going up on my tiptoes, but that alone isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to have toleanin.
