Page 12 of Our Secret Moments

“I’ll see you,” I reply, still feeling the warmth and satisfaction of a good day ahead right down to my fingertips.

If you have ever wondered how many times a person could fall asleep in Annie Rotford’s class without her knowing, the answer is zero. Yet, George manages to get a few seconds in before she slams a book closed and pushes something over on purpose. She’s never openly discussed the common pattern of people falling asleep in her class, but it’s obvious that her voice puts people to sleep.

“George,” I whisper, nudging him with my shoulder. His head lolls forward before his eyes shoot open, his blonde hairfalling in his face. “You need to stay awake. What the hell have you been doing?”

It’s not unusual for him to fall asleep in class. Holding his head up has become my part-time job and I don’t mind it, but he’s been extra tired today. He wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth. I would find it gross if he didn’t have the looks and the attitude of a golden retriever.

“Jacks was watching some videos the other day,” he mumbles out of the side of his mouth, pretending to take notes even though I know what he’s writing doesn’t make any sense. “And he wanted to try something new. So, he bought this toy from–”

I hold up my hand. “Forget I asked,” I say, shivering. “You and Jacks are cute, but you’re also a little sickening. It should be illegal for two people to love each other that much.”

His cheeks flush. “I know, sometimes I think–”

“Are you and your friend finished talking, Catherine, or am I boring you?” Rotford’s voice brings us both back to the conversation as the rest of class snickers. Not everyone in our class is as nice as George, which is why I’m grateful to have him as my one friend in this class rather than have twenty bad ones. We both nod in unison. “Good. I think this would interest the both of you.”

I straighten my posture, instantly intrigued. When Rotford starts a rant like that, you know it’s bound to be good. Everyone in the class quietens as she switches the powerpoint on the main board, the title changing from our last assignment feedback to a picture of… A football field?

What the hell?

“As you know, Drayton runs a series of campus-wide magazines to keep with tradition and keep students engaged in what is going on in and outside of the state. We try to keep up with every aspect of the curriculum, every course and even every fraternity and sorority, as ridiculous as it sounds,” she begins.

She changes the slide to a picture of an old newspaper from Drayton. It’s black and white so it must be old. “After a staff briefing with the head of the sports department, it has come to my attention that the Titans Daily, the newspaper designated for the football team, has been abandoned for five years. Nobody has picked it up again and nobody has even purchased any of the old copies. Now, I know that running the school newspapers is not a part of your course or what you signed up for when applying for this at Drayton,butit does give many opportunities in the outside world if you are able to start somewhere small. As a favour to Coach Mackenzie, I offered to ask you all if anyone would be up for taking over the newspaper. We’re looking for someone who will give it a modern spin, reintroduce the players and what Coach Mackenzie says, ‘Make football great again.’”

Everyone in the class bursts out into laughter at Mrs Rotford using such casual language.

After the laughter dies down, the whole room goes quiet. Nobody raises their hands, nobody suggests taking it over and nobody evendaresto look at her. Most of us don’t even like sports, so it’s understandable. I can tolerate a good game when I’m in the mood for it, but writing about it and the players is a whole other thing. I’ve never really considered sports journalism and the module we had on it had been quick enough to forget about.

Rotford sighs. “I thought this would be the case,” she mutters. She looks up, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room before her eyes land on me. I feel the sweat pick up on my neck. It feels like she’s looking straight through into my soul. “That’s why I chose someone in advance anyway.”

No.

No.

No.

She couldn’t possibly be talking about me. I know I’ve started to up my game this year, but this is where I draw the line. I want her approval more than anything. I want to succeed in this class above all, but this?

This would be absolute torture.

“Catherine Fables,” she announces and my blood runs cold. Everyone’s head turns to me and I swallow the lump in my throat. George elbows me in the rib as I blink at her. “Congratulations. The assistant coach will take you down to meet Mackenzie now. This will be a great learning experience for you. Enjoy.”

My mouth practically hangs open.

I stay put in my seat, trying to wrap my head around it as George packs away my stuff for me since I’m apparently incapable. I’m shoved out of the door before I can even process what’s happening.

A young blonde woman with green eyes greets me at the door, a clipboard in hand as she rests her hand on my shoulder. “I’m guessing it wasn’t voluntary, huh?” I shake my head. “You’ll be fine. I looked through some of the things you’ve written. Rotford gave them to me over the weekend. You’re really good. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, somehow telling my feet to continue walking.

“I’m Olivia, by the way,” she says, smiling up at me. I’m thinking about introducing myself, but she already knows who I am. I want to ask how long she’s been working at Drayton given how young she is, but I think better of myself and try to mentally prepare myself on the walk over to the other side of campus.

Football is not my thing. At all. I watched a few of Connor and Wes’s games growing up by default, but I’ve never been completely interested. It seems fun and a little violent. Nothing that necessarily checks my boxes for entertainment. So, I try toshake off all the nerves and paint on my bestI’m totally fine and normalface as Olivia pushes open the door to the Coach’s office.

Coach Mackenzie looks exactly as he did as the first time I met him when Wes, Nora, Elle, Connor, and I had a playdate. He’s freakishly tall, a dirty brunette, an unkept beard, and a beer belly. His blue eyes light up when he sees me.

It’s been years since I’ve seen him.

After my dad became mayor, he started to distance himself from the people that made him who he is and the friends that picked us both back up after my mom died. It was too awkward to visit him on my own, but I still make sure to send him a Christmas card every year when my dad forgets.

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