The Perfect Disaster

by Abby Tyler

  “Thank you.” She stuck the key in her pocket. “That’s very helpful.”

  “And on that other matter,” he said with a wink, “he got all the supplies you sent over.”

  “Thank you extra for that.”

  “He’s been working on that last one for days,” he said. “Burning the midnight oil.”

  “Which one is that?”

  “The happiness one.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  “Not a happy man right now, I ’spect.” Mr. Farley said, straightening to full height. He twitched his mustache. “Hopefully you can set him straight. I hear you’re good at that.”

  “Well, I’m not sure about that, at least not with Coach,” she said.

  Mr. Farley took a few steps away, then turned back. “I probably shouldn’t say nothing, as it isn’t my business.”

  He hesitated, and Ginny wrapped her fingers around the key, breath held.

  “He made that calendar you sent.”

  “Did he?” Her heart was about to pound out of her chest.

  “Your name was on it. I wouldn’t say nothing about it, ’cept I figure somebody ought to know if somebody’s writing their name on a calendar.”

  “Was it a…past date?” she asked. “Or future?”

  “Didn’t look that hard to know,” he said. “Just saw your name, that’s all.”

  Ginny’s student came in just then, and Mr. Farley hurried out.

  As Jason started in on his first routine, a set of balance moves to help him manage frustration and set his focus, Ginny’s thoughts turned back to Carter.

  He might have put her (or Roscoe) on his happiness list. And he definitely put something about her on his Favorites calendar. He had taken all her suggestions for activities for team building, expression, and self-esteem.

  Even though he hadn’t mended their rift in any way, they were still connected.

  It would have to be enough.

  Chapter 19

  Speaking at the Last Ditch was a tradition for the head football coach of Applebottom, but Carter wasn’t sure his heart was in it.

  Last year, he’d been fortunate enough to catch the flu, and Dodge had done it. After a year of dating random women in the district, the last thing he’d needed was to spot their hopeful faces in the stands for the biggest surprise-date event of the year.

  The Last Ditch was not his favorite Applebottom tradition. It was connected to the Harvest Dance. No one knew exactly how it started. The land around Table Rock Lake was forested and rocky, not conducive to crops whatsoever.

  But still, there was a Harvest Dance and to top it off, both students and the community at large were encouraged to create the most outlandish proposals imaginable to convince the object of their affection to be their date.

  It no longer mattered which gender asked whom. But as the dance neared, the town became littered with signs and temporary monuments chronicling attempts of the citizens, young and old, to secure a dance partner.

  One week prior to the dance was the final pep rally, which included the Last Ditch. Anyone who had not yet succeeded in finding a date for the dance could walk to the microphone and ask someone in front of the whole school as a grand gesture of courage.

  The cheerleaders ran out to the center of the gym floor in a blur of cartwheels, and the band cranked up. Carter glanced down the line of football players to be sure everyone seemed all right. Probably more than one of them would attempt a last-ditch proposal.

  The team filed onto the bleachers. The pep rally portion would happen first, and then at some point the Student Council president would arrive to start the Last Ditch. The event was capped at half an hour, so that an endless stream of students couldn’t to keep it going just to get out of class.

  The band played the school song and the fight song, and the cheerleaders danced. George, the captain of the football team, strode out to give a rousing speech about victory, not that it had ever happened in his years.

  Carter willed himself not to look out into the stands to spot Ginny, even though he knew she’d be there with the elementary school kids. All the schools sent their students over for the pep rallies to foster Applebottom spirit.

  He found her anyway, sitting along a row of kids who looked pretty uncomfortable to be there. More than one wore brightly colored headphones to muffle the noise.

  A little guy, probably not even seven years old, stood up and tried to bolt. Ginny neatly caught him and pulled him next to her, reaching into a bag at her feet to give him a squishy pink pig to squeeze. He settled down with it, and she looked up.

  And their gazes connected.

  He gave her a curt nod. He’d appreciated all the things he’d sent for the team to do. The superhero capes had gone over well. The priority lists. It gave them something to focus on as they closed out a losing season.

  The happiness list and favorites calendar had given him some pause. He’d done a little work on them and set them aside. Thinking too much about the past or future made him uncomfortable. He was good right here, thinking only about what was right in front of him.

  All the seniors were called down to the floor to be honored. More than one teacher could be seen sniffing as they listed the kids who were in their final year.

  Carter would be losing six players. He switched his attention to them, giving them an encouraging nod.

  Finally, a lanky boy in jeans, suspenders, and a bow tie approached the mic stand.

  “I’m Bernie Owens,” the boy said into the mic. “And I’m here to get us started with the Last Ditch.”

  A roar rose from the crowd.

  Bernie glanced at his watch. “We have a limited amount of time. So if you’re thinking of inviting that special person to the Harvest Dance, you better get on down here and be ready for your public humiliation.”

  One of the percussionists began a drumroll.

  Everyone swiveled their heads to see who would be the first to brave the potential social embarrassment of the Last Ditch. But no one came forward.

  “Anyone? Nobody this year?” Bernie called out.

  Carter had watched one of his players sweating it out, and knew he was thinking about doing a Last Ditch. Carter shifted behind his chair and pushed him on the back.

  It worked. Barry stood up and started out to the center of the gym. A great cheer rose up.

  Behind him, one of the players said, “I think he’s going to ask Amelia.”

  Despite his initial reluctance, Barry seemed fine when he got up to Bernie. He took the mic off the stand and swung the wire around like he was an experienced showman.

  “Good afternoon, Applebottom High!” he called. “I’m Barry, and today I’m here at the Last Ditch to ask a very special girl to attend the Harvest Dance with me.”

  Another cheer erupted from the crowd. When it died down, he went on. “I was supposed to plan this whole big thing, but some coach over there”—he aimed a finger at Carter and waited out the laughter—“had us in practice too much this week. So here goes.”

  Carter shook his head, arms crossed. He’d probably be called out more than once today. That was one of the things that came with teaching high school kids.

  “Hannah Malvern,” the boy called out, dramatically holding out one of his arms, “will you do me the honor of attending the Harvest Dance?”

  In the stands, a few people let out a gasp. Everyone looked around for this mysterious Hannah. At first no one stood up. Carter spotted a bit of a commotion farther up the stands. A blond girl was being nudged in every direction, her face as pale as milkweed.

  “Go, Hannah, go!” several people said. One tried to grab her hand and drag her to standing.

  The poor girl was mortified.

  But Carter could have told her that Barry wouldn’t give up. He’d seen the boy play.

  “I know you don’t like standing up in front of everyone,” Barry said. “But we’ve been studying together for three weeks, and you saved my grades, and this team that was about to h
ave to do without me.” More laughter. “I want everyone to know how amazing you are.”

  The girl looked like she might be getting braver. Finally, she stood up.

  The entire gym erupted in cheers.

  Down on the gym floor, Bernie took over the mic. “Come on down, Hannah,” he said.

  Hannah made her way down to the gym floor. Barry took her hand. “So is it a yes?” he asked.

  Hannah nodded.

  Another great cheer went up.

  Bernie lifted the mic. “Success! Who’s next?”

  This time two more guys and a girl came forward. They lined up beside Bernie.

  “Ladies first,” Bernie said, handing the mic to an athletic girl with her hair twisted up in a messy bun.

  “All right, everybody,” she said. “You guys all know that I’ve been after one guy since sophomore year, and I’ve never done anything about it. That ends today.”

  A chorus of whispers broke the quiet. From one far corner, a chant began. “David, David, David.”

  The girl pointed at him with a smile. “You got it. David Warner, get on up here. Because I’m asking you to the Harvest Dance.”

  A tall awkward boy with a massive curly head of hair stood up. He pointed at himself in the chest as if to say Who, me?

  Bernie took the mic. “Come on down here, David. Don’t make us come get you.”

  David jumped down from the side of the bleachers and headed to the center of the gym. Bernie held the mic to his face. “So what you say?”

  David leaned in. “But I don’t dance.”

  The girl grabbed the mic. “I can teach you.”

  David nodded to that, and another cheer rose up.

  The next two boys came, both with success. That was typical. A school-wide audience was the ultimate peer pressure.

  Another member of the football team lumbered up to Bernie. Dudley hadn’t played more than a few minutes that season, although Carter had tried to encourage him to go in a time or two. He was timid. Several of the players had been more or less pushed onto the team by their parents. Applebottom wasn’t big enough to have tryouts, so everyone made the team.

  “Another mighty Eagle about to spread his wings!” Bernie said. “It’s Dudley McPherson!”

  Dudley didn’t take the microphone from Bernie, but simply leaned in. His faced turned bright red as he said his words as fast as possible. “Jennifer Lightsey, will you go to the Harvest Dance with me?”

  A gasp came from the cheerleaders. A tall brunette with a giant red bow in her ponytail opened her mouth in shock. The other cheerleaders stood near her, hands clasped to their cheeks.

  Clearly this was unexpected.

  Jennifer backed away from the group until she bumped into the wall. Then she took off for the door and slipped out.

  The gym sat quiet for a long moment. Dudley hung his head.

  “Sorry, Dudley,” Bernie said. “It was worth a shot.” He turned back to the stands. “Anyone else?”

  Carter glanced back over at Ginny. She leaned in close with another teacher, both seeming concerned about Dudley’s rejection. The gym murmured.

  Dudley still stood there, looking forlorn and lost. He cut his eyes toward the team, and his expression sent Carter straight back to the day of his failed draft and even bigger failed proposal. His throat closed up.

  No one had stood with him that day. He’d had to wind his way through cameramen and announcers and players and coaches and team reps. Alone.

  That was not happening to Dudley. Not on his watch.

  He would not stand alone with his rejection.

  Ginny’s heart leapt when Carter headed toward the center of the gym. He was still looking at her.

  Why was he going to the mic while looking at her?

  Carly leaned in. “What’s he doing?” she asked.

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  Her heart thudded even harder. Carly squeezed her hand. Something was definitely up. People were looking from the coach to her, and murmuring.

  Was Carter going to do a Last Ditch himself? Was he going to ask her?

  Maybe that was why he had sent Ginny the note. To break the ice. To let her know he wasn’t upset anymore.

  Ginny knew exactly what the students were going through. She felt hot and cold at the same time. The possibility that she would throw up was real. She clasped her hands tightly together, trying to keep herself under control.

  “Hey, Applebottom!” Carter called out.

  “Hey, Coach!” the crowd shouted back.

  “I’m up here to stand with Dudley,” Carter said, gesturing toward his team. “It’s not easy to come up here and get turned down.” He glanced at the cheerleaders, still missing one of their members. “Or to do the turning down. It takes a lot of courage.”

  Applause broke out across the gym.

  Ginny felt her stomach start to drop. Carter wasn’t doing a Last Ditch. He was just supporting his student. She tried to rein in her disappointment.

  Carter waved at his team. “Come on over here. We’ll stand together with Dudley.”

  The players ambled over from their chairs. Carter waited for them to settle around him, then went on. “We’ve been working on becoming a stronger team. Along the way we learned a lot more about each other and what our strengths are. We all even made capes.”

  At that moment every member of the football team unfurled their superhero capes and fastened them around their necks.

  Ginny sucked in a breath. Her capes!

  “I wanted to talk about somebody who’s made a real difference to our team in the last week or so.” His eyes searched the crowd, but didn’t land anywhere in particular.

  Was he going to actually talk to her in front of everyone? At the Last Ditch?

  Bernie must’ve had the same question, because he leaned over and said, “You do know this is the Last-Ditch portion of the pep rally, right, Coach?”

  “I do,” Carter said. His voice reverberated through around the gym, and straight into Ginny’s chest. “One of the things that we learned this week was to recognize when we had made mistakes, and to try to fix them.”

  Carly reached over and squeezed her hand. Ginny’s stomach started flipping again. This was worse than any roller coaster she’d ever ridden.

  “I wanted to have a very special Last Ditch today. I know that the Harvest Dance is traditionally a couples dance where people pair off and attend together. But this year I wanted to welcome everybody to the dance. Whether or not you worked up the courage in the last few weeks to ask someone. Whether or not you feel like you fit in or don’t. I want to see you there next weekend. And if you don’t have anybody to dance with, come to me and we will all dance together.”

  A great cheer went up and Carter gave the room a strong nod.

  And then he walked away from the mic.

  Ginny’s heart fell. She’d done exactly what she set out to do. She’d helped them forge a stronger team. She’d made Carter see beyond the rejection he got a long time ago. It had led him to try to help others, like Dudley. He’d changed the Harvest Dance for the better, right there in front of everyone.

  But it hadn’t helped her at all. Nothing had changed between her and Carter.

  It really was over.

  Chapter 20

  Ginny sincerely regretted signing up to chaperone the dance. Even though she had not endured humiliation anything like poor Dudley at the Last Ditch, she still had this negative feeling come over her every time she thought about the pep rally.

  Carly offered to come over and get ready together. Ginny took her up on it, because she really needed to be with a friend, no different than if she were going into the dance as a high school student without a date, despite what Carter said.

  Ginny surveyed her flat, dull hair and wondered why in the world she thought Carter would ever have been interested in her at all.

  They only had two dates. She laughed at herself in the mirror. “You didn’t even get a third and out.
”

  But she had gotten the kiss. That made her at least a little bit different.

  Carly came over around six. The chaperones were due at the dance at seven. Ginny felt she was mostly ready. She’d pinned part of her hair back and stuck a couple rhinestone clips in it. And she actually had makeup on.

  But the moment Carly popped in and saw her, she said, “Oh no. That will never do.”

  She immediately started pulling the combs out of Ginny’s hair, and looked around the bathroom until she found a curling wand to plug in.

  “It’s not like it’s my dance,” Ginny argued. “Let the girls outshine me.”

  “This is not a high school dance,” Carly said. “This is a community dance. I want that jerk football coach to see how beautiful you look and feel regret all the way to the tips of his crummy little shoes.”

  This made Ginny laugh.

  Of course Carly would look stunning with her long blond hair in loose curls and a shimmery dark gold dress that perfectly conjured the idea of autumn and the harvest.

  Ginny’s navy-blue bridesmaid dress still hung on the hook by the door.

  Carly examined it. “This is pretty. I don’t think I ever had a dress from a wedding that I wore again.”

  “It was a really posh affair.”

  “You must have some fancy friends back in Chicago.”

  “Not really. One of them just came from a rich family. She was super sweet herself.”

  “Curling iron is fired up and ready.” Carly walked across the bathroom and instructed Ginny to sit on the stool.

  For the next twenty minutes, she worked magic on Ginny’s shoulder-length hair, curling it in spirals that Ginny never could have managed on her own.

  When she finished, Ginny looked like a dark-haired Goldilocks.

  “So is this some new look I don’t know about?” she asked.

  “We’re not done, dummy,” she said. “Now we need the epic brush out.”

  Carly ran through the curls for what felt like an hour, using her hands to control the hair as it slid through the bristles. Ginny tried not to think of Carter, whether he would dance, or how she would feel to see him there. She had a job to do. Chaperone the kids and go home.