Page 113 of Bad For A Weekend

“What is?” I ask, impressed by the straightforward answer that showed no sign of the anxiety I know he experiences.

“Those things will keep people with malicious intent out, but what if the shooter is a student?” He rests his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers. “Our most valuable tool is our students’ relationships with us and each other. Our new social and emotional programs are designed to open the lines of communication and build trust. We want to give these kids the tools they need to voice frustrations and work out issues they have with each other. I don’t know if it’ll work, but so far, we’ve experienced some very positive results.”

“That’s great.”

“It is. It was a big expense, and I’m proud that the school board trusted me enough to invest.”

“You were responsible for these changes?”

“I researched the programs and presented them, but the real heroes are the school board who approved the funding and the staff who took the time to learn it all.”

“You’re being modest.”

“I promise you, I’m not. Anyone can present an idea, but it takes people in power to implement change.”

I look down at my questions and realize he answered the bulk of them with his thorough answers. But I don’t want this to end and feel there’s an opportunity here to learn more about him.

“I just have some general questions, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

His jaw ticks, and I wonder if it’s because I have more questions or because he doesn’t want me to leave.

“I already know your full name.” I tip my iPad up so he can’t see the questions that aren’t there, and I draw an exaggerated checkmark. “And I know your age. Um, do you live in the district you work in?”

“I do. I rent a condo not far from here, but I’m hoping to purchase in the next year.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“This is relevant to the interview?” He gives me a questioning look.

“We atThe Student Lifelike to get to know our interviewees so we can paint a full picture.”

“I see.” He leans back in his chair. “Honestly, I’m a homebody. If I’m not at work or the gym, then I’m home.”

I write out the answer that’ll never be printed before pretending to scour the page. “I think I have everything—oh, wait. One more. Are you married?”

He grins. “If you want to know if I’m single, just ask that.”

“It’s not for me.” The jig is up, but my pride stops me from admitting it.

“Okay, then, yes. I’m single. I recently got out of a relationship that left me needing to take some time to work on myself.”

“Oh.” There’s no way he’s talking about me. Three years is not recent. He not only moved on but landed himself a serious relationship. Disappointed, I close the cover on my iPad and stand. “Thank you for your time. The article will appear in next Thursday’s paper. You can contact my editor if you’d like a copy, or you can read it online.”

“That’s it?” He stands, too, looking dumbfounded at the abrupt end of the conversation.

Me too, buddy.But it’s either leave or cry. Actually, I’m pretty sure both will happen. I just need to control the order.

“Yep. It was nice to see you.” My smile turns genuine. “And I’m really glad you’re back where you belong.”

“Thanks. Me too.” He places a hand on his chest. “I mean, I’m glad you’re where you belong.”

Owen

Ikick my front door shut behind me and set down my bag of takeout and soda. Sighing, I inspect my still, mostly empty living room. I had gotten rid of all my furniture after I moved back in with my parents the first time, then I lived in the furnished pool house. After that, I went straight back to my parents, never needing furniture.

Now I’m starting all over again, and although I have more than enough money in my bank account, I don’t want to buy things that might not work in the home I plan on buying.

Not that I’ve secured a home. Quite the opposite, actually. If I were in Texas, my price range would buy a three-story home on ten acres. But in California, all I can apparently afford is a hovel two hours away from Claremont. My agent assured me she could find something. It’ll just take time. So, until then, I have a love seat in my living room that my parents had in their basement, my childhood bed in the bedroom, and not much else.

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