Redhead Blitz (16 page)

As they’d done numerous times the past two days, tears threatened to fill her eyes.
 
But just as persistently, she blinked them away.
 
After Sean’s parting words, she’d cried her yearly allotment.
 
But no more.
 
Let him think what he liked.
 
In a twisted kind of way she was glad he believed what so many others did, that she was free and easy with her body.
 
Maybe he’d make it easy and steer clear of
her
.

Chapter Thirteen

“Is Al around?”
 
Fred propped a polyester clad thigh on the corner of
Gigi’s
desk.
 
It wasn’t even lunch time and he already sported a mustard stain on the belly of his golf shirt.

“He’s up at the front office. Can I give him a message?” she offered.
 
Anything to get Fred on his way.
 
She had a million things to do.

Fred lowered his voice.
 
“L.R.’s office?”

“I’m not sure,” she lied.
 
It was none of his business who Al was meeting with.

“I bet L.R.’s breaking the news.”

News?

“It’ll be all over the building within the hour.” He checked behind him and then leaned toward
Gigi
, conspiratorially.
 

Jeesh
, he needed a breath mint
.

“Tiffany had her baby yesterday.”

Who?
 
“I don’t know who that is, but how wonderful for her.”
 
Why would L.R. have to
break the news
about someone having a baby?

“Tiffany, as in our ex-cheerleading advisor.”
 
Fred nodded when
Gigi
felt her eyes round in recognition.
 
Her stomach seized.
 
Talk about lousy timing.
 
Would she ever be able to rest easy about what happened with Sean?
 
Not if the past wasn’t allowed to die.

“I can’t believe she stayed in Newtown after her divorce.
 
Hank left town when his wife threw him out, but Tiffany’s stuck it out all these months.”

Gigi
didn’t want to encourage Fred, but he took her silence as a cue to continue gossiping.

“The same parents who gave the administration a hard time when the affair became public will probably freak out all over again.”

Chills suddenly rippled throughout
Gigi’s
body.
 
“I’m certain it will blow over quickly.”
 
She hoped that proved to be true. Surely people had more important things to do with their time.
 
Yeah, right.
 
She’d grown up surrounded by the same small town mentality.
 
Your business was
everyone’s
business.
 
Nausea struck, thinking about Al’s no-dating-coworkers-policy.
 
So far he hadn’t found out Sean.

Lord, please let it stay that way.

Fred stood and tugged at his waistband, the corners of his mouth downturned.
 
Probably because I’m not encouraging his hearsay.
 
Good.
 
Leave.

“Don’t be surprised if you have to start fielding phone calls for Al.
 
If you think he’s been touchy before now, just wait.”
 

Two more hours, max.
 
Then you can crash
.
 
Although classes had gone well and going over the game films with the team had been productive, Sean checked his watch, praying to make it to the end of this day.
 
Three near sleepless nights had him physically wiped.
 
The first two nights his mind had played and replayed
Gigi’s
rejection until he’d felt as if he’d been run over and ground into the turf by his entire team.
 
With cleats.
 
And then last night’s dream had been so unlike anything he’d ever given conscious thought to, he’d prowled the house until dawn.
 
If he had any hope of her having a change of heart, he might have considered it some kind of premonition.
 
Unfortunately, those hours of restless contemplation brought no bursts of confidence or miraculous solutions along with the sunrise.

The long day drained him of what little mental energy he’d possessed.
 
Determined not to be forced from his normal routine, he’d managed to walk into the athletic office to pick up his mail, but
Gigi
had focused her gaze on her computer monitor the entire time.
 
He tried to muster up some righteous anger, but his supply of that emotion had long since petered out.
 
When he’d heard her sniffling, he’d had a moment of hope she was suffering as much as he was, but she’d mumbled something about a virus going around and kept on working.

Sean rubbed at his chest, wondering how long it would take for his aching heart to heal.
 
He plodded back through the empty gym and entered the locker room.

“Butch.”

The young man was headed out the other door with his friends.
 
Obviously the kid assumed one week’s eligibility voided all his earlier academic problems.

The whole pack of boys halted to wait for Butch.
 
“Yeah, Coach?”

Sean didn’t want to embarrass the kid, but they had work to do.
 
Butch had made grades by the narrowest margin and that wasn’t good enough.
 
“You guys go ahead,” Sean told the others.
 
“I need to talk to Butch.
 
Oh, and load up on the vitamin C.
 
I heard there’s a bug going around the school.”

The teen’s shoulders slumped as he watched his friends leave, then he turned to Sean.
 
“Don’t tell me that I’ve got to hang around and study.
 
I pulled my grades up.”

Sean could relate to the frustration in his tone, but letting him off the hook could put them right back in the position they were in before.
 
“Your grades did improve, and I’m proud of you.
 
But it’s going to take more hard work to get you to the point that we don’t have to worry about eligibility every week.”

Butch’s
eyes narrowed, his expression bordering on belligerent.
 
Sean had a zero tolerance level for that from both his students and his players, so even though his exhaustion tempted him to let the kid leave and learn his lesson the hard way, he plowed ahead.

“You barely squeaked by in Spanish, and I know you have a test in there on Wednesday.”
 
Although some students considered them a pain in the ass, teacher Web pages had proven to be a Godsend for keeping track of
Butch’s
tests and assignments.

Butch averted his gaze, backing down from the visual game of chicken he’d initiated.

Sean closed the distance between them in order to lower his voice.
 
“Can you honestly tell me that you’re prepared for that test?
 
I mean, I’d love to head home, believe me.
 
But I also don’t want you to have to tell your dad this Friday that you can’t play.”

Butch let the strap of his backpack fall off his shoulder, catching it in his hand.
 
His averted eyes reflected acquiescence and, unlike the bravura he displayed on the football field, perhaps a bit of defeat.
 
“Yeah, I know.
 
He gave me endless amounts of grief last time.
 
Okay, I guess maybe I’m not as ready as I could be.”

With mixed feelings about extending his work day, Sean patted
Butch’s
back.
 
“I tell you what, go grab a bite and meet me at the door outside the gym hallway in, say, forty-five minutes.”

An hour and a half later, they were wrapping up their study session.
 
Sean had made a decent dent in his stack of to-be-graded papers, while Butch ate and then came back to memorize Spanish terms.
 
He’d quizzed Butch and was pleased with the results.

“You know, Butch, I think you’re capable of much more than you think you are.”

Butch shoved his Spanish notebook into his overloaded backpack. “It’s just because you’re helping me.
 
I could never do it on my own.”

Sean didn’t believe that.
 
But Butch was like most of his other students.
 
Their idea of hitting the books was finishing homework.

“Of course you can.” Sean started putting his own papers away.
 
“I didn’t teach you a thing tonight.
 
I just made you do it.”
 
He paused and met the young man’s gaze.
 
“You could totally do this on your own.
 
You just need to formulate a game plan and dedicate yourself to it.”
 
The sports reference had
Butch’s
eyes widening.
 
Gotcha
.
 
“Do you think I go into a game without a game plan?”

“No?”

“Dude, why do you think we
study
game tapes?
 
Ours and the opponent’s.”

Butch nodded, his brow creasing.

“We work as a team every day after school.
 
If we have a great practice one day we should take the rest of the week off?”

Butch scoffed.
 
“No way.”

“Right, that’d be suicide.
 
Same thing with your school work.
 
You’ve got to stick with the program.
 
Practice, drill, study...”
 
He watched
Butch’s
eyes cloud over with boredom and he stood, smacking his hand on the table.
 
“Dedicate yourself to the plan, keep the long-term goal in mind.”
 
As the Butch straightened to attention, Sean sensed the proverbial light bulb flicker within himself.
 
Was he listening to his own advice?

“You’re right, Coach.
 
But, it’s going to wipe out my free time to do all that with my school stuff.”

“Maybe it will, but what’s your goal?
 
To spend a couple hours every night goofing around with your buddies or to play college football and have every recruiter after you?”

Butch cracked his knuckles as he stared off somewhere over
Sean’s shoulder.

“Man, when you put it that way, it really is a no-brainer.”

Energy gave Sean a buzz.
 
Maybe they were both starting to understand.
 
“And it’s not like you have to give up every bit of fun.
 
It’s your senior year and you deserve to have a good time.
 
But if you dedicate as much time to your class work as you do to video games and cruising around with the guys, your weekly eligibility will become a non-issue.”

“That would be cool not to have to worry about it every
frickin
’ week.”

You can say that again
.
 
“Tell you what.
 
That’s your homework for me.”

“Huh?”

“You write down a game plan, what it’ll take to achieve your goal.
 
If it makes sense, we’ll skip these little sessions and you give it a try on your own.”

“You’d trust me to work by myself?”

“Sure.
 
If it’s a good plan and you stick with it, you won’t need me.”

But as Butch left the office and silence settled around Sean, he wanted to kick himself.
 
Here he was telling the kid that a man could attain his goals by forming a plan and sticking to it, but when it had come to winning
Gigi
, he’d immediately accepted defeat.
 
Screw that
.