by Gage Grayson
“The school closing, our school closing.”
The way Dylan says it, it almost sounds like a poem, like part of a fucking haiku or something. But when I see the disturbed look on Eric’s face, I register what Dylan is actually saying.
Another feverish wave passes through me, but it doesn’t feel as good as the last one. Now I’m just starting to feel sick.
“Uh, could you elaborate on that?” Just hearing Jessie’s question helps subdue my anxiety, but I have a bad feeling about whatever news is coming next.
“I was just starting preliminary research, and when he caught me looking into everything, he told me to back off. And when I confronted him about it, he came clean about it all. The plan, his plan, is for a shopping center and some sort of events venue for tourists. Wine tourism, he mentioned—”
“Right on the high school campus? I mean, on that site when they…they tear it down?” Eric blurts nervously.
“That’s the plan exactly. This is all my father’s doing. He conceived this. He went to the state himself.”
“What was that about wine tourism?”
Now it’s Jessie’s turn to interrupt. Before Dylan can even respond to that, she explains herself.
“You know that I’m helping Dad run our vineyard now. Fuck, we serve the wine here, and when something like that’s mentioned…I can’t just ignore it.”
Eric turns his head gently towards his fiancée. The look he gives her has no apparent anger or hurt or outrage. The only thing I can tell about Eric’s expression is that there are words there—volumes—but it’s all in a language that almost nobody understands.
In fact, the only person who knows how to read that language is the woman he’s looking at right now. Whatever the message is, she seems to understand right away.
“I just want to make one thing clear,” Jess takes the time to look at me directly, and then Dylan, before continuing. “The way Henry is going about this is something I would never condone or even tolerate. If your goal is to resist this, to stop it, then I am one hundred percent on your side. We both are.”
Eric places his hand gently on top of where Jessie’s is resting on the table. They look at each other again, and now, both their expressions speak volumes only meant for each other.
“Same.”
My one word spurs Dylan to turn towards me with a smile that feels like a warm blanket.
“I appreciate you all being on board more than I can say. But, rest assured, I won’t even think about going back to New York until we stop this thing for good. Until then, no matter how long it takes, I’m staying right here in Fredericksburg.”
Damn, Dylan’s comforting, welcoming smile is still there.
And he’s still looking at me.
Things have been interesting since Dylan waltzed back into town. That original, excited feverishness is back, with a tingling, unsure feeling of anticipation dancing up and down my spine.
Yeah, it’s been interesting, alright. And, I’ll admit, this is more excitement I’ve had since I don’t know when.
But how interesting are things going to get? And how much excitement do I really need at this point, or any point, in my life?
I guess I’m going to find out, because it looks like Dylan’s staying, and I’m committed to take this ride wherever it goes.
Chapter 11
Dylan
“Dude, is this seriously your life now?”
I look up from the stack of papers in front of me to see Eric looking exasperated and a bit overwhelmed.
After learning the truth about the merger—and who’s behind it—Eric and Jessie were kind enough to take me in and give me the use of one of their spare rooms.
It’s been about a week since then, and I’ve basically turned Jessie and Eric’s kitchen into a makeshift office.
“In a nutshell? Yes.”
Eric lifts a stack of papers and shakes his head as he reads. With each line, he looks more defeated and confused than the last.
“I can’t make sense of a third of this. It’s like some of it may as well be written in Latin or something.” Eric tosses the stack of papers down in front of him moving on to another stack that has consumed the wooden surface.
“That’s because some of it is.”
“How do you do this, man?” Eric leans back in his chair and surveys the clutter on his table.
I can completely relate to how he feels. My first time researching law at the Harvard library had intimidated me, too—though that didn’t last long after utilizing some study tips I had learned from Brooke.
“The way I see it is that this,” I gesture to the mountain range of papers before me. “This is my playbook. This lets me set up the best offensive and defensive lines ever imagined. And the courtroom…well, that’s my new gridiron.”
Eric nods in understanding. He gets what I’m saying.
“So, basically, you spent a small fortune to go to Harvard just so you can learn how to research and read about what people already did before you?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
Our combined laughter fills the kitchen area. The frustration that has built up over hours of work has been lifted by some much-needed levity.
Eric rubs his face with his hands and lets out a noise that sounds like the unwanted love child of a groan and sigh.
His eyes lazily shift over to the kitchen counter, and there is a brief moment of surprise when he notices the time.
“Fuck, it’s nearly midnight.”
“Yup. Doesn’t take much for time to fly by when doing this stuff.”
“Well, I’m calling it a day. No more research for any of us for the rest of the night.”
I look down at the papers in my hand. All of the words feel like they blend together into one giant blur of black ink.
Suddenly, a break doesn’t sound all that bad—especially since we’ve been at this for the last eleven hours.
Eric gets up from his seat just as I begin to lean back in mine. There are several audible cracks as my spine readjusts after being hunched over the desk for so long.
The sound of bottles clanking together draws my attention, and Mack pulls a couple bottles of Miller from the fridge.
“You know, Vinnie’s is open ‘til two. We could order some pizza. And Netflix added Varsity Blues to its roster.”
I can’t help but groan at the mention of the football movie.
We were about fourteen years old when that movie came out, though it didn’t stop us from sneaking into the movie theater to watch it. There was a lot of that movie we would come to identify with.
But then, that was part of the problem.
“I’m good with some late-night beer and pizza, but no Varsity Blues.”
“Alright, I can live with that compromise. But if we’re not watching Varsity Blues, then we’re getting pineapple on the pizza.”
I take the beer that Eric’s holding out toward me with a furrowed brow. “Seriously? You’re pulling the pineapple bit?”
“Compromise, right?” Eric smirks—he knows he’s won.
“Alright, fine. Varsity Blues it is, but no pineapples.”
Eric takes a victory drink of his beer as he pulls his cell from his pocket.
I make my way toward the living room as Eric places the call for pizza. I plop down in one of the chairs and take a long swill of beer.
For reasons I don’t know—or rather I don’t want to acknowledge—I find myself wishing that Brooke was here to join us for beer, pizza, and the movie. I don’t know if it’s still her favorite, but Brooke loved Varsity Blues—or, rather, Paul Walker.
“Alright, pizza is ordered and on the way.”
“Sounds good. Now let’s get this movie over with.”
Eric laughs and sits down on the couch. Instead of leaning back and relaxing, Eric leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. There’s a serious look in his eyes that can only mean one thing.
“Not so fast, hotshot.”
“What’s with all those lingering looks between you and Brooke?”
Wait, what? Does this mean she’s been looking at me when I’m not looking, too?
“What do you expect, Mack? Brooke was a huge part of my life for years. She was my first kiss, my first date, my first dance, my first time, and my first love.”
“There’s a lot of history there. Looking at Brooke, whether I want to or mean to, is all a matter of habit. Put yourself in my shoes. Would you be doing any different if it were Jessie?”
“Well, Jessie and I are not you and Brooke. I mean, you two were the fairy tale ideal for all of us growing up. Jessie and I are a completely different story. We were just friends in high school. Fuck, if you told me back then that she and I would be together now, I’d have laughed until I pissed myself.”
“Yeah, well, trust me then. It’s just a force of habit. That’s it.” That’s all it can be.
“Are you sure there’s nothing more there?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Eric raises an eyebrow and takes a drink of his beer. “How does it not matter, Dylan?”
“Because nothing will ever come of Brooke and me. Regardless of what I feel or what she feels.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Well, for starters, my career. I’ve made a life, a world, for myself there. Texas isn’t where I belong, Eric.”
“Why not?”
“Because I need more than this small-town life. I need more than back country roads, tail gate parties, and seeing the same people day in and day out. Fuck, I can’t even stand country music.”
Eric’s mid-drink when he starts coughing, and he nearly chokes on his beer. “Wait. You don’t like country music?”
“I fucking hate it.”
“But we went to country concerts all the time”
“Yeah, because everyone else wanted to go.”
Eric looks like I’ve completely shattered his world, and I feel a bit of happiness in that after he essentially blackmailed me into watching Varsity Blues with him.
“So, that’s that?” Eric prods.
“I’m going to tell you now, Mack. One thing this job has taught me is that not everyone gets a happy ending. Yeah, there are people out there who belong together who will last until the end of time. But that’s a true rarity. I’ve seen what love really is.”
“Well, share your infinite wisdom with me then. What is love?”
I only just open my mouth to speak, but Eric is quick to raise his hand and stop me from speaking.
“And don’t you dare say ‘baby don’t hurt me.’”
I shake my head and stifle a laugh. “You laugh, but that song is a verifiable classic. And, truthfully, love is incredible messy, complicated, and I’ve got no interest in it at all.”
Eric’s eyebrow arches as he looks at me in a bit of disbelief, and I know what’s coming next.
“That sounds incredibly pessimistic, Dylan. Almost morbidly depressing.”
“Maybe it is, but there’s also one overwhelming huge factor that you’re also forgetting about that would get in the way of Brooke and me.”
“Oh, this ought to be good.”
“If there’s one thing I know about Brooke Sinclair, it’s that there is no way she will ever leave Texas. It’s her home.”
Chapter 12
Brooke
“Are you sure about this, Brooke?”
“I am, Helen. Dylan is the best lawyer in the state of New York, maybe even the entire country at this point. If he says that this is a good idea, then I believe him.”
Helen and the group of teachers who’ve shown up all look back and forth at one another. They’re scared and nervous. Not that I can blame them.
“Look, if Dylan believes that a press conference is going to give us an edge, then it’s going to give us an edge. I trust him, and so should you.”
I never thought I’d be sticking up for Dylan Andrews of all people, but I trust his judgment in this matter like I would trust his judgment on a football field.
“Well, okay then. I will get on the phone with Superintendent Davies first thing on Monday morning and get everything in the works. He’s as dead set against this as we all are, so if this is going to help our cause then he will want to help see it done,” Helen says with an optimistic determination that makes me smile.
“Perfect. And try to reach out to all the parents you can, here and in Llano. I’ve been talking to some of the teachers up there, and they’ve already said they’ve pledged their support for the cause, too.”
“Well, they’ve got just as much to lose. Half their jobs are going to be lost too,” Miss Shipley chimes in.
I give the middle-aged math teacher a nod of agreement.
My eyes look over the brunette woman and take in her features. Carly is normally vibrant and cheerful, but I can see the fear and anxiousness in her dark eyes. The woman is a single mother of two, who works her ass off to be the best teacher and mother she can. It’s for people like her that we must win this fight and keep our school open.
“Dylan suggested writing some small speeches, too. Something that will really identify with the public and get people in our corner.”
“We can do that easily enough,” Helen agrees.
Everyone else in the room nods and shares their agreement with the principal.
“Well, that’s that. Why don’t we meet up again on Tuesday and go from there?”
There’s a unanimous agreement among the group, and everyone gets up to leave. We all shake hands and go our separate ways.
I’m the last out of the classroom.
Jessie is leaning against the wall, across the hallway from my classroom, waiting for me with her arms crossed over her chest.
“So, how did it go?”
“Everyone’s on board. Helen is going to be calling the district’s Superintendent on Monday morning, and everyone is going to write some speeches, too. So, I’m hopeful.”
“Good, because I have some even better news for you,” Jessie says with overflowing optimism as she stands up from the wall.
“Oh? Now I’m curious.”
“Well, to help out, I went around to the different vineyards. I sat down and talked to them all about this merger and what it means for the future of this town. Turns out a lot of them are in agreement with us and have pledged their support for the teachers.”
Damn, that is good news! With a handful of vineyard owners on our side, it’ll only boost our cause.
If the people who stand to benefit most from this merger are standing against it, then it can only help further move support into our corner.
Given Jessie’s natural charm and way with people, I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s managed to bring some of those owners into our corner, but I am.
“So, who all did you get into our corner?”
Jessie interlocks her arm with mine as we walk down the hallway. She’s smiling so brightly that I can’t help but feel just as giddy.
“Well, honestly, most of them don’t matter. But the one that does is Willow Hills.”
“You got Willow fucking Hills to back us?”
Jessie nods excitedly.
Willow Hills Vineyard is the largest winery in all of Texas. They’ve got vineyards all over the state, but their largest is here in Fredericksburg where they started.
If any vineyard has the most to gain from the merger, it’s them. So, for them to pledge their support for us is absolutely incredible.
“What the fuck did you do to get their support? Sign over your soul? Give Ted a blow job?”
“Oh, fuck no! Besides, Ted’s so old, I doubt he could get it up with Viagra. No, all I had to do was tell him how important the school is to our town and how vital it is.”
“And he agreed?”
“Yup. Turns out that he’s really fond of the school and doesn’t want to see his grandson play for any other football team than ours.”
I stare at Jessie in disbelief.
Ted Jameson has never struck me as the sentimental type. The man is all about profit and the almighty dollar. Anything that adds zeroes to his net worth gets his support. So, for him to back us—knowing he’ll lose out on a lot of money—completely blows me away.
“Have you ever thought about going into politics, Jess? If you can convince Ted to turn down money, then you could easily be president.”
“Nah, I prefer to use my gifts for the betterment of mankind. And getting Eric to buy me ice cream whenever I want.”
Jessie smirks mischievously, and it makes me laugh.
“Jessie, we both know that Eric would buy you ice cream any time you wanted just by pouting and batting your eyelashes at him. He’s about as easy to wrap around your finger as a piece of string.”
“That’s true. Plus, he gets laid whenever he gets me some, too.”
I can’t help but laugh at my bestie and pull her in close so that I can plant a giant kiss on her cheek.
“Speaking of the men in our lives, how is it working so closely with Dylan?”
I knew that it was only a matter of time before Jessie broached this subject. I should be thankful that I made it a whole week before she sprung it on me.
“I’m grateful for everything he’s doing. His work and expertise have been an incredible help.”
“That’s not what I asked, Brooke.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth!”
“The truth is I don’t know,” I blurt out in exasperation. “Being around him just feels so fucking good. And to see him fighting for this so hard means more than he’ll ever know.”
“But?”
“But it’s also hard on the head. And the heart. Part of me wishes he would just fuck off back to New York City so I wouldn’t have to feel like this.”
“Feel like what?”
“Like I’m falling in love with him all over again.”
“Oh…”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Jessie’s features soften in sympathy.
She was here for me all those years ago when Dylan took off and left. She sat with me night after night, eating every kind of junk food imaginable as I cried. I swore I wouldn’t ever let myself feel for Dylan again.