Be My Game Changer: A Sports Romance(14)

She casts a sympathetic glance his way as she whispers, “He wasn’t himself when he walked in today and looked exhausted, so I let him sleep. I’d do the same for any of my students. I don’t know what they’re dealing with at home, and sometimes there’s more behind them being sleepy than I could ever imagine. I’d rather let them rest while they can for a few minutes than lecture them about a history lesson that will still be available when they wake up.”

“Wow,” I breathe. Instinctively, I raise my hand to brush my thumb across her cheek. “He was right. You really are the best teacher.”

She tenses and I yank my hand away as she moves back slightly, taking a quick peek at E.J. before softly saying, “I just know there’s more to school and life than memorizing timelines and names. It’s very out of character for him to not come in loud and keep everyone smiling.” Her gaze travels back to him, hunched over, head resting on crossed arms on the desktop, the worry she feels for her student is palpable.

“Avery,” I whisper as she turns to me, “do you think there’s something bad going on at home?”

“I don’t know. I do know he works outside of school. A few weeks ago, he was in a grouchy mood, so unlike his usually playful self, but when I broached the subject, he immediately shut the conversation down. Said he was just tired. I have to take him at his word and trust that he’ll come to me if he needs to. And I hope he will, so I don’t push … because I worry if I push too hard, he won’t feel comfortable with me when he really does need someone.”

“Do you need someone?” The question tumbles out before I can stop it, earning a baffled expression from her. Yeah, I can’t believe I asked it either.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are.” I’m obviously not. Time for a subject change. “How do you take your coffee?”

“I’ll fix it.” I watch her put cream and sugar into the cup before stirring it. She doesn’t resume grading papers but instead leans back in her chair and looks up at me. “You can’t keep showing up here. I’m going to get in trouble even if you are the principal’s pet.”

The atmosphere relaxes a bit as I let out a breath. Spotting an extra chair a few paces away, I nod toward it. “Mind?” Her eyes follow, landing on the chair. Blinking slowly, she nods once. In a flash, I grab the chair and silently place it beside her desk before sitting. “I bet you speak from experience. Teacher’s pet in school?”

She gives me a stare and eye squint that confirms I’ve hit the nail on the head. “And I bet you were the jock who never showed up for class but always managed to ace every test. Miraculously, you always maintained your eligibility to play ball.”

Damn. She really does have a low opinion of athletes. And it’s clear I’m not the original source of it. “Is that assessment from personal experience or just a blanket assumption of meatheads in general?”

“More personal experience than I care to admit, but thankfully ancient history.”

“Can’t be too ancient if it’s still riling you up now. But I wouldn’t label myself a jock anyways. I did show up for all my classes because I planned to attend university. My dad’s alma mater’s bitter rival. So, no meathead pass for me because I was determined to get accepted.”

“You really went out of your way to make him angry.”

“Yep.”

“Did it work?”

“Yep. And I graduated with a degree in business, so I had a backup plan in case ball didn’t pan out.”

“Looks like you didn’t need that backup after all.”

I unconsciously rub my right elbow. “Never know. My career could end tonight, or next week, or five years from now. Nothing is certain.” She breaks eye contact, glancing across the room, but my gut says she just wanted to look away from me. “How about you? I’m guessing you didn’t rebel much.”

She smiles, nodding her head. “I didn’t have to. That role was filled by my little brother.”

“Brother? I’m an only child. I always wanted a brother.”

“Well, I have one brother and two sisters. I love them but wanted some peace and quiet growing up—and my own bathroom.”

“A quiet, empty house is overrated.” In childhood and adulthood. Although, the latter hasn’t ever bothered me much until recently.

“What about your mom? Does she still live in Canaan Falls?”

Her asking me a question is a good thing, shows at least a tad of interest on her part. Maybe I’m successfully prying my way into her hard shell after all. But out of all the topics, family isn’t the one I’d pick for first-coffee-date topics. Is this a date? Damn, I hope so. “Yes, she’s still here, but we don’t have much contact.”

“Why not?”

Normally, I’d hesitate to answer, instead I respond easily to Avery. “Because she never put a stop to my dad’s behavior, so I resented her equally for his actions. Even though she was on the receiving end too.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have pried,” Avery says, pink staining her cheeks.

“It’s okay. I blamed her, but I still defended her as soon as I was able to. And as soon as I could, I got her away from him permanently. I blamed her, but I wanted her safe. Now she is.”