Playing at Love (7 page)

Chapter Seven

Tess was disappointed. No, she was ticked.

What a crock!
she thought as she stared down at the newspaper spread across the table. How fair was it that some stupid Neanderthal game got just as many inches of story as a group of talented musicians? She’d been there—she’d heard the crowd explode for Penny. Had they cheered like that for the football team?

After slumping into a kitchen chair, Tess kicked a leg of the table and bit her thumbnail. Maybe this Rick Duffy wasn’t going to be impartial after all. Maybe he was just another of the good old boys in this football-loving town.

She couldn’t help thinking about that meeting with Rick. He’d brought up the question of what would happen if they “tied”—the choir and the football team. What if neither program did what Walker asked? Or what if both of them did? Thanks to Rick’s first article, she’d been getting phone calls and e-mails. The support was rolling in. Getting the public involved was a great idea.

And then, of course, there was Jack. She’d promised herself she would stop thinking about him. But did dreaming count? That couldn’t be controlled!

Tess jumped when there was a knock on her front door. She had just been in the middle of replaying a fragment of the dream she’d had last night—the part when Jack showed up at her house, pounded on the door.

Just like now.

“Who is it?” she asked, aware the she was still in the yoga pants and FHS T-shirt she’d slept in. And what kind of lunatic shows up at someone’s house unannounced at 8:00 a.m. on a Sunday, anyway?

“Tess? Let me in. It’s Mac.”

Oh, that kind of lunatic. Tess snorted and opened the door. Mac was wearing a red zip-up sweater and holey jeans, her blond hair in a French braid. “What’s wrong with you?” Mac asked, eyeing her friend. “Ohhh, are you not alone?” she whispered, glancing past Tess into the apartment. “Who is he?”

“What?” Tess blinked. “Yes, of course I’m alone.”

Mac’s smile dropped. “Oh. Well, why is your face all red? You look kind of…overheated.”

“It’s nothing.” Tess shook her head, trying to get that last image of Jack out of her mind. “Come on in.”

Mac presented a to-go Starbucks cup, handed it off to Tess, then breezed inside.

“Thanks,” Tess said gratefully. “I needed this.”

“I haven’t read it yet,” Mac said, gesturing to the newspaper spread across the kitchen table. “Is it bad?”

Tess nodded.

Mac sank into a kitchen chair and read through the article. Tess waited, tapping a nail against her cup as she drank. She couldn’t decode Mac’s expression, but she didn’t seem nearly as enraged as Tess thought she should be. After a few minutes, Mac turned the page, glanced at both sides, and then flipped the whole paper over. “Where’s the rest?” she asked.

“What do you mean? That’s it. Just those four columns at the bottom.”

“That’s it?” Mac frowned. “Where’s the bad stuff?”

“What do you mean?” She pointed at the paper. “It’s all there. You have to read into it.”

Mac glanced at the paper again, still frowning.

“That Rick Duffy.” Tess pulled a carton of Greek yogurt from the fridge. “He totally took Jack’s side.” She handed Mac a spoon.

“No, he didn’t,” Mac said. “Tess, I’m sorry to tell you, but this is pretty unbiased stuff here.”

Tess folded her arms. “Why did he write so much about the game, then?”

Mac stared up at her friend. “He did exactly what he said he would do.” She pointed at the paper. “He wrote about the budget cuts and what all that means to the school and jobs and the programs two days ago, and then today he wrote equally about Penny’s performance and the game. There’s nothing editorial about this. He just reported the facts.”

“Facts?” Tess huffed, grabbing the spoon out of Mac’s hand. “No yogurt for traitors.”

…

Jack put down his pen and pushed back from the table. A fine way to spend a Saturday. After reading through the letter he’d just written, he balled it up in his fist and tossed it across the room to the trash can.

“Three points,” he said aloud after its perfect landing. “Nothing but net.”

He ran a hand over his chin stubble. It had been an impractical reaction—to write a letter to the editor like that—but it had been his first thought after reading Duffy’s article. So far, he’d written ten drafts. None was quite right. He was just about to grab the pen again when the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“I read it online.”

Jack sighed. “What do you think?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” Brad said. “I figured you needed to vent. So I’ll sit here and listen while you get everything off your chest.”

“Nah,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Come on.” Jack could hear the taunting smile in his brother’s voice. “You’re telling me that the fact a football game is forty-eight minutes and that singing girl was out on the field for no more than five doesn’t bother you?”

Jack clenched his teeth. “Nope.”

“Sure.” Brad drew out the word.

“Fine,” Jack said, giving in to his frustration. “How in the hell did that dictate the same amount of coverage?”

“There ya go.”

“And what was a seventeen-year-old girl doing performing a Nirvana song?” Jack stood up, walked to the refrigerator, and pulled out a bottle of water. “Does she even know who that band was? Does she have any idea what she was singing?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m sure it was one of Tess’s strategies. Hard not to be a little impressed,” he added, and then took a long drink of water.

“Who’s Tess?”

Jack flinched, spilling water down his front. “Oh. Choir teacher.”

There was a beat. “She hot?”

Jack grabbed a towel and wiped his chin. “Doesn’t matter.”

Brad laughed. “She’s hot, isn’t she, brother? How hot?” Leave it to Brad to read his mind.

Jack sat down at the table and ran his free hand over his forehead. “Incredibly,” he admitted. “And the thing is, I know her. So do you.” With his hand still covering the top half of his face, Jack filled in his brother. By the end, Brad was in hysterics.

“You’re no help,” Jack said, fighting back his own self-deprecating smile.

“Oh buddy,” Brad said. “You’re dead.”

Jack exhaled. “Quite possibly.”

After he hung up, Jack walked to his bedroom to put on his workout clothes. He grabbed his gym bag and keys, in dire need of burning off some steam before he did anything impulsive. On the drive, he felt himself calming down. He was glad he’d talked to Brad and hadn’t sent a letter to Duffy’s editor. The more he thought about it, the more he did realize that it was a fairly neutral report on the evening’s events. And with the first away game coming up—against a school that barely had enough players to make a lineup—both Jack and the team would be getting a very short reprieve. And another check in the winner’s column.

He pulled into a parking spot in front of the gym but remained in the car, thinking. Despite the upcoming away game, if his team was going to make a bigger impression on public opinion, they would have to step up their energy. He would win the games he needed to and there would be no choice which program would be saved. But then he thought about Tess and how clever she probably was. Clever and beautiful. Didn’t matter—he could be just as clever.

Jack got out of his car, determined to begin his workout with one hundred push-ups. If
that
didn’t help him focus then nothing would. But the second he was in the plank position—his body straight, stiff, and parallel to the ground—his mind flashed to Tess’s face…her beckoning mouth. Suddenly, his arms began to shake under his weight and his elbows gave, landing him flat on his face, cursing.

His black Jeep was pretty indistinguishable, except for the Illinois license plates he still hadn’t changed. So Jack was a little surprised when he walked out to the parking lot after his workout and found a note on his windshield. The paper was lined with tiny rows and dots.
Subtle
, he thought, rolling his eyes. Black block letters spelled out what might happen to his tires if the football team didn’t throw their next game. Jack wadded the paper in his fist, chalking it up to some
Glee
-watching, overly enthusiastic student. Something about the fact that the note was written on a page of sheet music made him think he wasn’t exactly dealing with a seasoned professional.

Jack had forgotten the whole thing by the time he walked into the teachers’ lounge Monday morning.

“Coach! Over here!” Danny said, calling from the far end of the room.

Jack waved back and was about to head that way, but the second he took stock of the room, something felt wrong. First, it was eerily quiet in the usually noisy space—only whispers, as though no one wanted to be overheard. And second, there was a distinctive, very literal split right down the center of the room. Sports and general ed faculty were on the left side with Danny and the other coaches, while arts and liberal ed were on the right.

It was a war zone, complete with two sides and a front line. After arranging a fearless General Patton expression on his face, Jack strode up the middle aisle toward Danny, right past Tess…hoping he didn’t look as unnerved as he felt.

Chapter Eight

House key? Check. Earbuds? Check. Pumped-up attitude? Double check.

Tess locked the front door and slipped the single key into her sock, then trotted across the street to the park. It was still pretty early—especially for a Monday—and not many other joggers were out on the trail circling the large pond. Tess liked it that way. She didn’t want to worry about what she looked like. She never understood women who actually put on makeup and clothing that matched to go to the gym. What was the point in that? When she exercised, her whole body was in on it.

Her brain, however, was currently stretched to its limit. For one thing, all of last week had been crazy-busy and a bit chaotic. It started the previous Monday, with something about a note being left on Jack’s car over the weekend, and ended with some still-unnamed athletes replacing the choir seats with a row of bleachers from the stadium and then duct taping her office door shut. As far as pranks went, she couldn’t help being a little bit impressed, although it was a royal pain peeling ten layers of tape off the length of the door just to get into her office.

Down on the grass by the trail, Tess did some stretching and a light warm-up before jumping to her feet, ready to start her run. She waved to a couple of people she recognized, but other than that, it was just her on the trail.

The first loop around the pond felt great. Her muscles were getting loose and a light sweat was starting to build under her ponytail.

Last Friday, marking the football team’s first away game, the choir had performed at the pep rally. They had been a huge hit, wowing the gym with a jazzy version of “Creep.” Penny hadn’t had a solo that time, which was fortunate, because she’d had a tiny issue with the choreography. Tess prayed that had been a fluke.

Despite the choir’s second successful performance, Tess still felt nervous. There was so much at stake. She jogged past the deserted jungle gym, pumping her arms, pushing herself harder.

Just as she was clearing the top of the hill, something caught her attention. It was a boy—a man, actually. He was sitting on a bench, half hidden behind a tree, his back to her. He looked kind of thuggish—long hair and a dirty T-shirt. Not that Franklin was a Norman Rockwell painting, but there’d never been much of a “thug” problem, which was probably why alarm bells were suddenly going off in her head. Tess had no idea what he could be doing on the side of the running trail at six in the morning. When she got closer, she saw that he had a girl on his lap. The couple might have been kissing or something similarly benign before she’d come upon them, but they weren’t kissing now. In fact, it looked like the girl was struggling to get away.

“Hey!” Tess shouted without thinking. “Are you okay?”

The second the thuggy guy was distracted, the girl pushed him off the bench and bolted. “Get back here!” he yelled after her. But by the time he made it to his feet, she had crossed the street and was gone.

Tess felt a cold shiver run down her spine as the thug turned her way. He didn’t say a word, but before Tess knew it, he was coming at her.

Tess had never been a sprinter; she was more about endurance than speed. And it didn’t help that everything felt like it was happening in slow motion as she turned on her heel and took off.

Her apartment was across the street from the park, but it was over the bridge on the other side of the pond. She would never make it.

Tess vaguely remembered that there was one emergency phone along the trail. Somewhere. She could hear the guy gaining on her, yelling curses the closer he got. She knew a little self-defense, but she didn’t think she had time to whirl around and karate chop the guy in the groin.

Panic burned her already aching lungs when she felt the thug’s hand on her shoulder. When she jerked away, she lost her footing and tumbled forward. A second later, she was on her feet again. But she didn’t make it ten steps before both her shoulders were seized. She felt herself being yanked back, then spun around.

The guy had black eyes. She’d heard of that before but had never seen it up close. It was terrifying. When he grabbed her by the arms, terror filled her heart; she didn’t know if she would scream first or vomit. Luckily, her body went into autopilot.

“Help!”
she shouted at the top of her lungs, pushing all the air out of her diaphragm like she was trying to hit a high note.
“Help me!”

“Shut up,” the thug barked, yanking her forward.

But Tess didn’t stop. She kept on screaming bloody murder.

The thug lifted one hand, like he was about to strike her, but then he seemed to notice something past her shoulder.

“Hey!”

Tess heard a distant voice coming from behind.

“Let her go!
Now
!”

The thug’s eyes grew wide, as though he was seeing an avalanche heading straight for him. He swore, dropped Tess’s arms, then turned and ran off.

Tess stared after him for a moment, then whipped her body around, not wanting to let anyone else sneak up on her. She almost screamed again when she caught sight of the single-file parade of twenty-plus matching blue shirts running down the hill. About ten yards in front of the pack was Jack.

“Tess! Are you all right?” he asked, once he made it to her. She blinked and nodded, pressing both hands over her pounding heart. After taking a moment to look her in the eyes, Jack stepped around her to peer across the street where the thug had disappeared. “I think he’s gone,” Jack said, standing in front of her again. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” she said, staring up at him. But she automatically crossed her arms, running her hands over her shoulders where the thug had grabbed her.

Jack noticed and reached out, peeled her hand away, then placed his over her arm. “Are you in pain?” he asked, his voice growing softer.

Tess shook her head. “I’m fine,” she answered, her breathing slowing down as the panic unleashed its grip.

She looked up at Jack, at his sheer size, and she suddenly felt very protected. She almost wanted to hug him. His hand was still touching her arm, so they were halfway there already. Her heart started pounding again, but for a different reason this time. She also couldn’t help noticing the way his T-shirt sleeves were stretched over his biceps. Why was she checking out his biceps at a time like this? Or the way his slightly sweaty hair was curling around his ears? She felt the urge to coil some of it around her finger.

“Guys,” Jack said, turning his head to talk to his team, who had gathered behind him. “Keep moving; I’ll catch up in a minute.”

The boys in blue shirts obediently turned and trotted up the hill.

“Is that the whole football team?” Tess asked, lifting a hand to wave good-bye to them. “How did you get them out here so early on a Mond—”

“What the
hell
, Tess?” Jack growled, startling her. “The sun is barely up and this place isn’t lit. And you’re out here alone?”

“I-I,” she stammered.

“Seriously.” He exhaled in fury then tilted his chin, looking up at the morning sky. “What are you thinking being out here all alone? Huh?” He bent his head down to hers and put a heavy hand on each of her shoulders. His dark eyes were blazing. “This could’ve been major trouble. Do you realize that?”

“I run this trail all the time,” she said, feeling her own anger flare. “
Alone
. And let go of me.” She shook his hands off and stepped back, chagrined when she tripped, just a little. “This park is perfectly safe.”

“Oh, obviously,” Jack snapped, wiping a patch of sweat off his forehead.

“I come here every morning,” she snapped in return. “I live right across the street.” She gestured toward her red brick apartment building.

“Don’t come out here alone,” Jack said. It sounded like an order.

Tess couldn’t help laughing; maybe she was in shock. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

“If I’m not mistaken,” Jack said, “I’m the man who just saved you.”

Tess scoffed resentfully. “Thank you, Jack, for
saving
me.” She hated how ungrateful she sounded, but his macho attitude was infuriating. “Better catch up with your team,” she said, pointing up the hill. “Before some ninety-pound freshman leaves another petrifying note on your car.”

As she turned and began to jog home, Tess was surprised by how wobbly her legs felt. She really had just been through something terrifying. And yes, Jack had “saved” her. But…grrr! Why did he have to be such a pig about it afterward? Her hand was still trembling as she twisted the key in her front door.

She turned around to look back at the park. She could just see the last of the blue shirts disappearing into the trees. Jack was last in line.

…

Ridiculous woman
, Jack thought as he caught up to the back of the team. Maybe he shouldn’t have yelled at her like that, but when he’d seen what was happening, how that guy had her by the arms, and how she was screaming…

It felt like a brick had fallen in Jack’s gut.

And then she’d actually yelled at him. At
him
! After what he’d just done for her.
Ridiculous
, he repeated, running another frustrated hand through his hair. Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have lectured her like that. His time might’ve been more productively spent by focusing on how cute she’d looked in her little running shorts and that tank top and— “Coach?”

Jack had been zoning out as he ran behind his players, counting his paces and thinking about Tess’s short shorts. He looked up and found Andy trotting by his side.

“Hi, Andy,” Jack said. “Are you keeping up okay? Only about two miles to go.”

“Oh, sure. Fine, Coach,” the kid replied through huffs and puffs of labored breath.

Jack couldn’t help chuckling. He was proud of the kid for keeping up.

“Is your friend okay?” Andy asked.

“Friend?” Jack looked at him, puzzled.

“That lady from before?”

“Oh.” Jack nodded and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was relieved that at least Andy hadn’t recognized Tess as one of the teachers. He didn’t want what had just happened to get back to the school. “Yes, she’s fine, Andy. Thanks.”

It had thrown Jack, hearing Tess being referred to as his “friend.” Were they friends? Could someone he used to be crazy about, but whom he hadn’t had a real conversation with in fifteen years, constitute a friend? Jack didn’t know. What he
did
know was that it wasn’t mere friendship he’d felt for her as he was sprinting down that path, her shouts for help echoing in his ears.

He felt that brick in his gut again, causing him to stumble off the path for a second.

“So, am I going to see you in the weight room later today?” Jack asked Andy, quickly downshifting subjects in his own brain.

“Yeah,” Andy said, really starting to pant now.

Jack grinned and slapped him on the back. “That’s great. Keep it up.” He took one more swipe at his forehead. “Well, I’m going to move up to the front of the line before whoever is leading takes us to McDonald’s instead of back to the school.”

Andy laughed. “Good one, Coach.”

Jack grinned and picked up the pace, shouting encouragement as he passed his players.