Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love)

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Rule #1: You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter (The Rules of Love) Page 7

by Anne-Marie Meyer


  “I was just in the bathroom—” Ms. Swallows started.

  “So you know how there is a desperate need for toilet paper.”

  Her eyes widened. I gave her a pleading look. One that I hoped said, please go along with this, and not, I’m a crazy person.

  She studied me then slowly nodded. “Right. Yes. Such a thoughtful thing to do, Destiny.”

  I pinched my lips together and stepped toward them. “Well, I should probably go put this baby in there.” I moved toward the bathroom and slipped inside.

  After I splashed water on my face a few times, I patted my skin dry and took a deep breath. So much had happened, and I felt as if my nerves were on fire. It was hard work, sneaking around. But getting to know Tyson made it all worth it.

  Once I was cleaned up, I stacked the roll of toilet paper on top of the six-roll tower someone had built. When I got back to the table, I noticed that Dad wasn’t alone. Ms. Swallow was there.

  When I approached, I saw that they were talking. Dad had a strange expression on his face. Like he was trying to smile, but felt uncomfortable doing it.

  “Ms. Swallow is sitting with us?”

  Dad nodded. “Yeah. She was alone, so I figured we could keep her company.” He snapped his gaze over to me. “That’s okay, right?” His voice cracked in a way I’d never heard before.

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Dad, you okay?” I asked as I paused and tried to figure out where I was supposed to sit. Either by Dad—which felt weird. Or by Ms. Swallow—which felt weirder. So I settled with Dad.

  Justine brought our food as soon as my butt hit the bench. I wanted to kiss that woman. People couldn’t talk or ask questions about toilet paper or stolen moments in the supply closet with food in their mouths. We would just sit there, chewing.

  As all good things, the food eventually came to an end. When both Ms. Swallow and Dad put their napkins down and pushed their plates away, I knew I needed to intervene. I didn’t need Dad asking me about the bathroom, and I didn’t need Ms. Swallow asking me about Tyson.

  “So, your uncle is Ted?” I asked, cringing as I tried to swallow the fry I’d only half chewed.

  Ms. Swallow nodded. “That’s right. I actually just moved here from Iowa. He’s the only person I know.”

  “Iowa, really?” Dad asked as he leaned forward.

  I glanced over at him. Why was he acting like Iowa was the most fascinating place in the world? I wasn’t even sure where it was.

  They started talking about farms, or the Amish, I wasn’t really sure. All I could focus on was the swinging door that Tyson had disappeared through earlier. He was there. On the other side. My heart hammered in my chest.

  This wasn’t good. It was bad. Really, really bad.

  “That is fascinating,” Dad said, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced over to see him smile at Ms. Swallow. “Isn’t that fascinating, Destiny?”

  “What?” I asked before I bit my lip. I was pretty sure that whatever small talk they were sharing was definitely not fascinating.

  “Angelica here was just telling me that the world’s largest strawberry is in Iowa.”

  I stared at him. Was he serious? He was allergic to strawberries. And did he just call Ms. Swallow, Angelica? I was rapidly getting to know more about my teacher than I felt comfortable with. And for some reason, I was sensing this attraction vibe—at least from Dad—and it made my skin crawl.

  My mind really couldn’t process what was happening, so I did the only thing I seemed to be good at lately, I lied.

  “That is interesting. For someone who can eat strawberries.”

  Ms. Swallow’s eyebrows rose as she moved her gaze from me to Dad.

  He coughed, and I swear he purposely kicked me under the table. Or Ms. Swallow has a spastic leg. Whichever it was, I winced as pain shot up my leg.

  “I’m allergic,” Dad said as if he were apologizing.

  Ms. Swallow’s cheeks hinted red as she nodded. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Dad laughed. “Yeah, if I eat one—” he expanded his hands out from his cheeks to signify his face exploding.

  “That’s terrible,” Ms. Swallow said, taking a sip of her water.

  They both nodded, and a strange silence fell around them.

  This was weird, and it made me very uncomfortable. Dad was a strict love only breaks your heart and leaves you lonely kind of guy. Watching him turn all schoolboy over Ms. Swallow was like watching an alien hijack his body.

  I needed to get away. Only thing was, moony-boy was my ride.

  I shoved the last fry into my mouth and turned to him. “Ready to go, Dad? I got homework to do.” I slid out of the booth and stood.

  Ms. Swallow grabbed her purse and shouldered it. “Yeah, I should get going.”

  Dad nodded as he followed after me. “Yeah. Big day tomorrow. Game day.”

  Ms. Swallow nodded as she tucked a strand of her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “I love high school football. Much better than the professional leagues. Wins mean more when it’s your school.”

  I stared at her dumbfounded. Was there a “How to Woo Joshua Davis” book out there somewhere? How did she know exactly what she needed to say to make Dad fall for her? From the slack-jaw look he had, it was working.

  “That’s exactly what I say,” he said as he extended his arm for her to follow him.

  Well, I guess we are walking Ms. Swallow to her car. Yippee.

  They kept talking at the register and out into the parking lot. They stood awkwardly next to her car as they finished talking about…something. I’d stopped listening at cow tipping.

  Finally, I got tired of standing there as the third wheel, walked over to our car, and climbed in. A few minutes later, Dad appeared and pulled the driver’s door open.

  “Hey, Tiny?” he asked as he ducked his head down.

  “Yep,” I said, straightening in my seat.

  “Mind if we give Angelica a ride home? She tried to start her car, but I think the ignition died. She’s going to leave it here and has no way home.”

  Great. More awkward flirting.

  But I wanted Dad to be happy, so I nodded. “Sure.”

  For some reason, it felt weird to ride up front, so I offered my seat to Ms. Swallow. She objected at first, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer and climbed into the back.

  Dad started the car, and their conversation continued. Not wanting to eavesdrop on them, I pulled out my phone and stared at Tyson’s number. After our interaction in the closet, I felt more comfortable texting him. And if I were honest, I missed talking to him.

  So I found his number and pressed the message button.

  Me: Wanna hear something weird?

  I waited. And then felt stupid. He wasn’t going to answer. He was at work. But then my phone chimed and his message appeared.

  Tyson: Always

  I smiled. I could hear his voice in my head as I read his words. This was not good, but I couldn’t help myself. I liked Tyson Blake.

  Me: My dad and Ms. Swallow are currently flirting like teenagers

  His message came faster this time.

  Tyson: Really? The Boss has a heart?

  I stared at it. Did he really just call my dad heartless?

  Tyson: That was a stupid answer. Let me try again. Wow, how did that happen?

  Good. He realized how bad that had sounded. It was nice that he was picking up on things like that.

  Me: We ran into her at Ted’s. Apparently he’s her uncle?

  Tyson: Oh that’s why she’s always eating here. I just figured she liked her grease with a side of fries.

  I chuckled as I glanced up at Dad and Ms. Swallow, who were still engrossed in conversation.

  Me: You won’t believe what he calls her. Angelica. That’s weird, huh? Teachers being called by their first names.

  Tyson: Totally weird.

  This was fun. I loved that I could talk to Tyson, and Dad was so preoccupied that I didn’t have to worry about him noticing.


  Me: How’s work?

  Was it wrong that I wanted to know more about him?

  Tyson: I work with George. I’m pretty sure he’s as old as dirt.

  I laughed.

  Tyson: Get this, he doesn’t really talk, he grunts. One grunt means, get out of my way. Two grunts means, you’re burning something. Three grunts means, stop talking, I’m watching my show. It’s a great system.

  I nodded as I typed my response.

  Me: Sounds amazing. I’ll have to keep that in mind for our next study session. I know the big game is tomorrow. Will Saturday work?

  I hit send and waited for his response. When it didn’t come right away, I worried I’d offended him. Was it wrong to suggest studying over the weekend? He probably had a much more happening social life than I did. A movie and a bucket of popcorn was my Saturday night.

  Before I got his answer, Dad pulled up in front of a small yellow house and shifted the car into park. Ms. Swallow turned and smiled at the both of us.

  “Thanks so much for the ride, Josh”—ugh, that was weird—“and Destiny, I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

  I saluted her with two fingers, and she climbed out of the car.

  Dad leaned over before she could shut the door and said, “I’ll see you at the teacher’s lounge for coffee.”

  Ms. Swallow nodded and slammed the door.

  I stared at him. Whoa. “Smooth, Dad.”

  He shot me a look before we drove off. “What does that mean, Tiny?”

  Was he really going to make me say it? “Um, was I the only one in the car? You couldn’t stop talking to my chemistry teacher. You literally never drew breath. I mean, it was world record worthy.”

  He sighed. The one that said he was annoyed with me. “I did not, Tiny. I was just making pleasant conversation, that’s all. It wouldn’t hurt you to do the same.”

  I wanted to snort. I wanted to tell him that he was delusional, but I was tired and ready to be done for the night. So I said, “Fine.” And settled into my seat for the five-minute drive home.

  It wasn’t until I’d changed into my pajamas and crawled under my covers that my phone chimed. My heart picked up speed as I reached over and grabbed it from my nightstand.

  It was from Tyson.

  Tyson: Sorry, Tiny. Won’t work. I’m booked that day.

  I flopped back on my bed, burying my phone under some pillows. All the excitement I’d felt about spending more time with Tyson came crashing down around me. He had something else going on. My assumption about his active social life was true.

  He was always going to be the popular jock, and I would be the outcast dweeb. It’s literally written in the by-laws.

  And never the two shall meet.

  Chapter Ten

  I got to Ms. Swallow’s class early the next day. I wanted to catch her and ask her to not say anything to my dad about Tyson and I and our closet rendezvous.

  But she wasn’t there.

  I waited at her desk until the bell rang. All the kids had gathered at their lab tables before I gave up and headed to sit in my spot. Where Tyson also wasn’t.

  What was happening? Why was everyone missing?

  Ms. Swallow’s heels could be heard as she entered the room. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was carrying a mug of coffee. Suddenly, her coffee date with Dad floated into my mind.

  Of course. She was seeing Dad. Ugh. Had they been flirting?

  Memories of the night before came rushing back. Blegh. Adults shouldn’t be allowed to flirt. It comes across awkward and creepy.

  “Good morning, class,” she said, setting her mug down and pushing her hair from her face. She looked different today. She had on makeup.

  This was getting worse.

  Tyson appeared in the doorway, and I almost celebrated. Finally, something to take my mind off Dad and Ms. Swallow.

  But as soon as I took in his countenance, a worried feeling brewed in my gut. Something was wrong.

  “Do you have a slip, Mr. Blake?” Ms. Swallow asked, reaching out her hand and wiggling her fingers.

  Tyson ducked his head as he walked past her. “No,” he said. His voice was low.

  A frustrated expression passed over Ms. Swallow’s face. “Excuse me, Mr. Blake. That’s a tardy. Three tardies and I’ll have to send you to detention.”

  He shrugged as he dropped his backpack next to our table and sat. He kept his gaze focused on the table in front of him.

  Ms. Swallow gave him one more disapproving look before she turned to the board and began writing. I wanted to ask Tyson what was wrong. I wanted to tell him that I was here for him. I wanted to do…something.

  But he never looked my way. Instead, he pulled out his phone and started playing some candy game on it. I sighed as I turned my attention back to Ms. Swallow.

  No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my focus from shifting back over to Tyson. What was the matter? Did it have to do with his mom? So many questions floated around in my mind, and I didn’t realize until the bell rang that class was over.

  I stared down at my paper covered with a bunch of doodles and one sentence of notes.

  Bromine and Mercury. Liquid at room temperature.

  Was that what the lesson had been about? Honestly, I had no idea.

  Tyson was gone when I glanced back up. The need to catch up with him raced through my mind, so I grabbed my backpack and shoved my notebook into it as I made my way across the room.

  “Destiny?” Ms. Swallow stopped me as she stepped into my path.

  I wanted to groan, but instead I glanced over at her. “Yeah?”

  She looked nervous. Why was she nervous?

  “I just wanted to make sure that we’re okay. Last night, I did not mean to monopolize the time you were spending with your dad.”

  I peeked past her, hoping to see Tyson walk down the hall. No such luck. I needed to get out there before the throng of students swallowed him up.

  “It’s fine. I’m happy you two are getting along.”

  She continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “It’s just been hard, me not knowing anyone here. Your father has been so nice to me. And then yesterday, it was really nice that you guys allowed me to join in.”

  This conversation was never going to end. I glanced over at her. “I’m happy for you. But I should really get to class.”

  It seemed as if she’d suddenly remembered that she’d cornered me in her room. Her cheeks turned red as she stepped aside. “Yes. Sorry. You’re free to go.”

  I nodded and moved toward the door. But then the reason I’d come into class so early rushed back to me. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Sure. Anything.”

  “Can you not tell my dad that you put me and Tyson together as lab partners. Or that you saw us in the closet at Ted’s?”

  Her brow furrowed. Did she really need to think this hard about it?

  She hesitated and then nodded. “Sure. It’ll be between you and me.”

  I smiled and continued out the door, calling, “Thank you,” behind me.

  Now out in the hall, my hopes deflated. Tyson was gone. There was no way I was going to catch up to him now. Blast Ms. Swallow and her need to tell me her whole life story.

  I threaded my thumbs through the straps of my backpack and ducked my head. Might as well head to English.

  Just as I passed the lunchroom, a hand reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me into a supply closet. I yelped and tried to break free—until I saw it was Tyson.

  He shut the door, flipped on the light, and glanced over at me. He still looked upset.

  “Is this going to be a habit of yours? Forcing me into closets?” I asked as he studied me. Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I met his gaze. There was something there that I couldn’t quite read but made me desperate to know what he was thinking.

  He laughed, glancing to the side and then back over at me. When his gaze returned, there was an intensity to it that caused my breath to catch in my th
roat. He was going through something, and I couldn’t figure it out. I cared about Tyson, and seeing him this upset affected me in a way that I couldn’t describe.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Before I could react, he crossed the room and slipped his hands around my waist. My heart pounded as I glanced up at him. This whole closet-thing was rapidly becoming my favorite move ever.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice coming out breathy.

  “Something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.” Just as the last words left his lips, he dipped down and pressed them against mine.

  Fireworks exploded across my skin at every point of contact. It only took a second for me to get over the shock and respond. At first, I was nervous. What if I did it wrong? What if I bit him? Suddenly, I was Porter in our second-grade kiss debacle. Why had I been so critical of him?

  Thankfully, Tyson had experience. He pulled me closer and deepened the kiss. His lips moved against mine as if he were looking for something. I responded, forcing out all my thoughts of inadequacy and losing myself in the moment.

  I allowed my hands to slide up his chest and up to his shoulders. I could feel every muscle twitch as I moved across them. When I reached his hair, I let my fingers play with each strand.

  And just as quickly as it started, he pulled back. A look of pain flashed in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Destiny,” he said as he grabbed his backpack and moved toward the door. “You deserve better.” He met my gaze for a moment, before he dropped it. “Just forget I did this, okay?”

  He paused, as if waiting for me to answer. The only rational thing I could do was lie. It was the only thing I seemed to be able to do lately.

  So I opened my puffy lips and said, “Of course.”

  He pulled open the door and left.

  I stood in the middle of the supply closet, not really understanding what had happened.

  Tyson Blake had kissed me. Me.

  I stumbled over to an overturned bucket and sat down. I placed my head between my knees and took a deep breath—just as my elementary school nurse had told me to do when I felt overwhelmed.

  How did that happen? And why?

  I sat up and grabbed my phone. I needed Rebecca.

 

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