The Roman god of wine? She knew Liz liked to go to the Wine Down Wednesday event that a local restaurant hosted weekly. So that part made sense. Too bad the rest of it really didn’t.
That cramp in her foot seized up again. Point. Flex. Point. Flex. Point. Try not to go crazy.
“But I don’t get it.” For once, the English teacher had run out of eloquent words.
“No one does. But they all came in with a sizeable donation to The Cupid Caper, so the Student Council officers were all pretty glad.”
Before Amanda could say anything further, Lindsay’s cell phone rang. It vibrated loudly on the gym floor. “That’s my mom. I’m supposed to be home by 4:30. Hey, Mary Beth, do you still need a ride?”
Mary Beth stood up and walked over to her bag. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”
The officers all stood up and disbursed, leaving Amanda alone in the silent gym. As she walked back to the private bathroom for faculty for a quick shower before heading back to her room, Amanda couldn’t shake the threads that cluttered her mind like dusty cobwebs.
She now knew, from one of the coordinators of the event, that these notes were definitely not being sent from students to teachers.
But she also now knew they’d all been filled out by an assistant principal. And an assistant principal couldn’t be running some kind of dating club for her employees.
None of it made any sense. Had Cupid picked up some of Baccheus’ wine before he went out for target practice?
Luke sat on top of a table at the back of Amanda’s classroom. He’d tried to wedge himself in between a stack of projects and another stack of textbooks. Surrounded by signs of education, he took the moment to do a little studying of his own.
Studying the reasons he hadn’t been able to get Amanda Marsh off his mind since this time yesterday. Luke couldn’t pin down if his thoughts locked on repeat because she knew her way around a haiku or because she clearly cared as much about one of his favorite students as he did.
Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was the only redhead he’d ever seen that could carry off wearing fire-engine red.
And she was certainly the only redhead that sent sirens off in him like she did earlier today.
They’d worked under the same roof and taught the same students for two years. But in a matter of weeks, that would come to a quick end. He’d go to design curriculum at Spring Break and begin teaching at the STEM Academy in the fall.
And that’s why he needed to pull the plug on all those sirens and lights. It couldn’t go anywhere if they were teaching under the same roof. And it wasn’t going to go anywhere if they weren’t.
Luke promised himself he’d keep his emotions in check, enjoy dinner with a colleague, and see what they could come up with to help Violet.
And that was it.
“Sorry I’m running late.” Amanda breezed into the room, her deep titian hair pulled into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. Some of the strands clung together with a gentle dampness that caused the loose waves she normally wore to twist a little more than usual.
Luke felt his resolve sprint away as quickly as a fire truck en route to a four-alarm call.
There were four alarms in his world, no doubt about that.
Pulse jumping.
Breathing quickening.
Adrenaline surging.
Mind wandering places it hadn’t gone for a long time.
She’d clearly showered, but had chosen to dress back in the same clothes she’d worn earlier. The same bright red shirt, tailored neckline skimming from shoulder to shoulder, just at the edge of her ivory collarbones.
Luke’s fingers itched a bit, jealous of the fabric.
He felt a little ridiculous, envying cherry-red cotton. But nothing about his reaction to Amanda made sense anymore.
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it.” Luke wished the sentence applied to him. His pulse tapped harder, leaving a staccato in his veins as they criss-crossed his body. He knew he wasn’t fine. And he worried if he ever would be again.
She opened the cabinet behind her desk and pulled out her purse and a bag filled with papers to grade. “Just once I’d love to leave this behind, you know?”
Luke knew. He’d like to leave his rational mind—the one which told him dinner had to be about helping Violet and nothing more—behind. “Well, why don’t you?”
“Come on. You know why. If I don’t stay on top of this grading, then it’ll grow and grow and be the end of me.”
The end of him was going to come quickly, if he didn’t quit staring. Either his pulse would race him straight into the cardiac unit at the nearby hospital, or Amanda would notice his eyes locked on her and she’d slap him right back where he belonged.
And he wouldn’t blame her one bit.
“Yeah, I remember being one of those smug corporate people who talked about teachers having their summers off. And then I became a teacher and I realized they needed three months off to make up for all the overtime of grading at night.”
“That is truth being spoken right there. I love this job, but some nights, I’d just like to veg out in front of the TV.” Amanda’s eyes caught the fluorescent lighting overhead and twinkled a little as she smiled. She picked up her bag of grading, her purse, and a small gym bag. “You ready?”
“I am. Let me help you with that.”
As Amanda came near, Luke reached out. He placed a hand on her shoulder to slow her down. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he could almost feel the red cotton shirt burning his fingers where they landed on the gentle curve at the top of her arm.
Wordlessly, he slid the strap of the black gym bag to the edge of Amanda’s shoulder, then slid it down her arm with the pressure of two fingers.
Amanda turned her head slightly and locked her gaze on Luke’s. Her lips parted slightly and Luke heard a short breath pull in between them. She felt the charge in the air too.
The gym bag hit the floor with a soft thud. The sensible thing to do would have been to just grab it. But Luke didn’t want to be sensible.
He’d lived by rules and order for his whole life. A love for science—where hypotheses were tested and laws explained why the sky was blue and why people didn’t float off into space—had fed Luke’s Type-A personality for more than three decades.
“Tell me…”He barely recognized his own voice.
Amanda never blinked, never closed that sigh-sized space between her lips. “What?”
“Tell me, what does your Mr. Shakespeare say someone like me? Someone who believes in only what they can test, what they can see?”
Her voice formed the perfect counterpoint to his, soft where his had been rough as the words pushed their way past the usual reserve that would have held the emotions securely back.
“’Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind/And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind’.”
Something about the words she chose made sense. Luke’s fingers still rested on her sleeve, just above the elbow. Maybe it was the physical connection.
Maybe it was something else. Maybe he should have paid more attention to The Bard.
“When did he say that?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
“And what do you say, Amanda Marsh? Do you believe all those words you teach students?”
She shifted a little and the change of position caused Luke’s hand to drop back to his side.
“I believe in the sincerity of the people who wrote them. I believe in people who took that chance.”
It seemed as though she spoke of something very personal, but something he knew nothing about. Her words felt guarded. On second thought, he knew all about staying guarded.
“Do you still want a chance to get to know each other better?”
He waited as the pause hung in the air. He’d tried to tell himself this impromptu evening was really about helping Violet. But if that’s all it was, why wasn’t he already in the car, driving there? Why was he standing i
n a classroom waiting for a sign from a red-headed romantic?
“Of course. We should probably get going.”
Luke reached down to pick up the gym bag. He knew he should take the bag of grading as well, but he couldn’t be responsible for his actions if he got close enough to take it from Amanda’s hand. As he stood fully upright, he noticed the poster on the back wall declaring the start of The Cupid Caper.
Hearts, glitter, and a roly-poly guy in a diaper with a bow and arrow.
Clearly ol’ Will Shakespeare knew the little winged man. No one would deny the English teacher did too. No one who knew line after line of poetry like she did could be charged with a lack of emotional insight.
So where did that leave him—the guy who wanted—no, needed—to make everything work according to logic and order?
Cupid stared at Luke from the confines of his poster. It had been so easy to deny all things relationships when he worked in the lab. The safety glasses and heavy lab coat reinforced every stereotype he’d believed about himself: scientific, analytical, reasoned, rational.
Luke thought that he was still that same guy, even though he’d traded the corporate lab for a public school’s lab.
He wasn’t used to being the subject, but clearly there was some experiment being played on him now by a short little golden-haired scientist in a diaper.
Luke shook his head and stepped forward out of the fog that had been holding him. It was time to quit being a variable and get back to being the control group.
Control. That was it. He just needed stay detached, approach this rationally and scientifically, and get back in control.
Ever since the waitress brought their two glasses of iced tea, something had been different. Amanda wanted to squeeze the change in the air like the lemon wedge floating on top of her drink. She wanted to press Luke and find out just what had happened.
One minute she had to fight for breath in order to quote Shakespeare to him, and now, moments later, he was asking about the footwear she used as the drill team sponsor. She’d never transitioned from heart-racing to mundane quite so fast.
In fact, all she could think of as she stirred the lemon’s juice into her tea, was that she’d wanted this moment for two years. But now that she was at dinner with Luke Baker, well, she was bored out of her mind.
She wanted to notice Luke’s dark blue eyes, or the generally strong set of his jaw. She wanted to focus on the cheap red glass candleholder that this Italian restaurant used to convey a little bit of atmosphere. She wanted to do anything but think about a line from Shakespeare’s Richard II.
When words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain.
Shakespeare was a liar.
Since they’d sat down, Luke’s words had been few. And what conversation had been generated sounded ridiculous at best.
She just simply could not believe Luke Baker was the least bit interested in her description of why she liked split-soled jazz shoes when she held practices in the gym.
“That’s really interesting, Amanda.”
Oh, that was it. This had to end. “No it’s not, Luke.”
“What?” He looked at her with clear surprise.
“Tell me, what’s your favorite brand of Bunsen burner.”
“I’ve got the basic Humboldts in the classroom.”
Amanda placed her glass of tea back on the table. “Fascinating.”
“You don’t really care, do you?” Luke rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward.
“Nope. And I doubt you care anything about split-soled jazz shoes.” She leaned forward in her own imitation of his position. “What’s going on, Luke?”
He sat back up straight. She’d gotten his attention. “What do you mean?”
“An hour ago, you were asking me for William Shakespeare’s opinion on the scientific method, and now you’re asking questions about which I know you have no true interest in the answer. Something happened, and I think you should be straight with me. You’re the one who asked me to come tonight—you said you wanted to get to know me.”
“I’m trying. I asked you about your work with the drill team. I assumed that was important to you.”
“It is. I’m proud of my girls on the team. They work hard and I’m honored to be their director. But I just have a hard time believing you invited me to dinner tonight to talk about our plans for the spring competition circuit.” Amanda picked up her napkin, folded it deliberately, then laid it back in her lap. She’d hoped he would take over during the pause in conversation, but he didn’t. “So, cut to the chase.”
She looked right at him, a small fountain of determination flowing into her mind and her spirit. All of a sudden, she needed the truth from him. She didn’t think he knew about her secret crush, but she didn’t want to know that the guy she’d watched from afar for so long suddenly thought better of inviting her out to a meal. Wouldn’t that just confirm every thought she’d ever had that romance—except the kind in books—was dead?
Amanda flashed back to high school, when she’d been stood up for a dance after a football game. One simple careless act on the part of one stupid teenage boy made her second-guess herself for a long time. She really didn’t want tonight to rank in the same general area.
And she really didn’t want to go back to second-guessing herself. She’d stayed away from dating for a while because she was too busy.
But she knew she was lying to herself. The reality was that it felt far, far easier to watch anonymously from the sidelines than to engage and get pushed away, like she had every time before. She’d never even flirted with Luke Baker because she didn’t want it to backfire on her.
And now today, when he’d actually made her want to pinch herself in that chemistry lab, it seemed like everything was rapidly coming to ‘same song, different verse.’
“I don’t know, Amanda. I owe you an apology. Just please don’t reach for your keys. Not yet.”
He must have been a mind reader. She’d already been thinking just that.
“Ok. Can we just start over then? Maybe talk about something we both care about? Like Violet Clark?”
Luke nodded and she noticed his broad shoulders drop a bit.
“I talked to the transportation department today,” he said. “There definitely won’t be any bus service for Violet to take advantage of. We’re going to have to come up with a viable private transportation plan for her, or the STEM Academy won’t be an option.”
“Well, I might have an idea.”
Luke leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearms again. “I’m open to any good ideas right now.”
“Well, it has to do with The Cupid Caper.”
“She can’t ride a haiku to school, Amanda.”
Amanda’s mouth twitched up at the corners reflexively, paired with a short laugh. “I didn’t mean like that, silly. The grand prize this year is a one-year lease on a car for the winners. I heard today that four different teachers got enrolled in The Cupid Caper. If we could find out who they are, and convince them to turn over their prize to Violet—if they win, of course—that would solve our problem right there.”
“Sounds like an interesting idea, Amanda, but how do we make sure one of the teachers wins? We can’t do that.”
“Well, we know who two of the teachers are. Katelyn Pantego is another one. And we know that the winners are determined by popular vote on the night of the dance, based on the couples who accurately guess each other’s secret Cupids during the week.”
“Pantego’s out.” Luke picked up the knife from his place setting and drummed the edge on the table. “I went to talk to Liz Langton today like I said I would. She said Katelyn was embarrassed by it and didn’t want to take part. But she wouldn’t give any other details. She just said we didn’t need to worry, that the nominations didn’t come from a student.”
Amanda threw out her hands. “Because they came from her!”
As she gestured, the side of her palm came into full contact with
her iced tea glass, sending it rolling on its side and draining into a big puddle on the floor. At once, six tables’ worth of eyes turned and stared right at her.
Great, Amanda thought. Red hair. Red shirt. Red cheeks.
“I just told her about the tiramisu here.” Luke spoke up loudly enough for everyone to hear. “It’s worthy of such a reaction. You should try it.”
He held out his napkin. Amanda took it gratefully. While most of the tea hand landed on the floor, some of it had also landed square in her lap, soaking through her napkin. She pushed hers aside and tried to blot some of the liquid out of her pants as best she could.
“You ok?” Luke’s low voice came across as measured, edged with concern.
“I’ll be fine. But now I’m going to need tiramisu.”
“We can arrange that.” He smiled confidently. “But first, we’ve got to get back to the subject at hand. What do you mean The Cupid Caper entries came from her?”
Amanda felt her adrenaline cranking again. The whole thing just seemed so fishy. But she didn’t have any reason to doubt Lindsay, who’d always been a trustworthy student and drill team officer. “One of my drill team officers is also an officer in Student Council. She said she handled the teacher envelopes and the forms had all been filled out in Liz’s handwriting.”
Luke’s brow furrowed, teasing a set of wrinkles across his strong forehead. “So one of your officers put together our envelopes and the other two. Did she say who they were?”
“You know…I didn’t even think to ask.” Amanda could have slapped herself upside the head. “I was too shocked when she said the forms were signed off by Liz. My mind started swirling.”
She looked straight at Luke. His eyes were steady and focused intently back on her.
And darn it if her mind didn’t start swirling again.
Amanda started talking again as fast as she could to keep her mind from running off the rails. “Well, we know Pantego is one of the others. So that just leaves one other person. But honestly, I don’t see how that helps us with the Violet issue, anyway.”
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