Rock Bottom Girl(138)

We were late enough that we drove the five blocks to the high school. Jake and I were decked out in our college caps and gowns, and Libby was rocking a little black dress that she and my mom found on their monthly shopping spree to the outlets.

I’d rushed through the hair and makeup tutorial the girls had posted for me on the message board. Even in the off-season, they’d made a sport out of pushing me to make an effort. And I enjoyed it. Thanks to my team, I regularly turned up in public as a reasonably put-together woman.

Jake didn’t have a preference for Made-Up Me vs. Just-Rolled-Out-of-Bed Me. But I had fun making the effort on occasion.

We parked and funneled into the stadium with the better part of Culpepper. Good weather dictated an outdoor ceremony, and today was good. Balmy and sunny. Students were lining up in caps and gowns, sporting heels and sunglasses. It was a good day. I could almost smell the promise of the future on the late spring breeze.

Libby ducked off to sit with friends while Jake and I headed to the teachers’ section on the field next to the graduating class. We took our seats in the back row like the rebels we still aspired to be. Floyd grabbed the seat next to me. Amie Jo turned around from the front row and waved.

“Bet you never thought you two would be making nice on this field,” Jake teased.

I elbowed him. “We’ve all grown up a lot since high school.”

“Some of us more than others.”

“Hey, what are my parents and your uncles doing here?” I asked, spotting the foursome in the audience. They’d become fast friends since Thanksgiving. Mom joined Jake’s poker nights, and Dad had been a regular attendee of Lewis’s book club. They were planning a cruise with Jake’s mom and Walter in the new year.

“Are you kidding?” Floyd said. “This is the social event of the year.”

The first bars of “Pomp and Circumstance” crackled over the loudspeaker, and we all rose.

Culpepper liked to keep commencement short. No one in town had time to sit through three hours of speakers. I tuned out Principal Eccles’s remarks on past and future and relaxed against Jake’s arm on the back of my chair.

Not so long ago, my future had been a lonely, anxiety-inducing mystery. Now, it was an adventure.

“I’d like to take this moment to invite Jake Weston to the podium,” Principal Eccles said.

“What’s going on?” I whispered. Jake hadn’t mentioned that he was part of the program.

“I gotta do this thing quick,” he said with a wink.

I watched him walk to the podium and shake hands with the principal.

She stepped aside and let him have the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my great honor this year to present the Teacher of the Year award. This year’s recipient has not only been an exemplary member of the faculty but an integral part of the Culpepper community. The only thing more impressive than her bravery is the capacity of her heart. She set out to make every student feel like they belonged in this school, on her team, in this town.” His voice tightened, and he cleared his throat.

Uh-oh. Jake was getting emotional. Could he possibly be talking about—

“Marley Cicero, if you’d join me up here,” Jake said.

“Me?” I pointed at myself.

Jake grinned. Floyd elbowed me. “Get your ass up there, Cicero!”

I only vaguely heard the applause from the students or the faculty or the crowd. I was too busy wading through molasses. This wasn’t happening. I hadn’t even been a real teacher for half the year.

My feet moved of their own accord, carrying me closer to Jake. My Jake.

Principal Eccles handed me the award. It was heavy and glass and had my name engraved in gold. Marley Cicero, Teacher of the Year. At least, that’s what I think it said. My eyes were a little blurry. It was probably pollen.

“I’d also like to take this moment to ask Marley something in private,” Jake said into the microphone.

I distinctly heard several of my senior girls scream, and when I glanced their way, they were standing on their chairs to get a better view.

“Marley?”

I looked back at Jake and found him in front of me, down on one knee.

“Holy shit.”

“What do you say, Mars? You and me? Forever. We’ll take Libby and Homer along for the ride.”

He was holding a black box, but I couldn’t see what was in it because my stupid wet eyes were geysering off my face. Why hadn’t I done the waterproof mascara Natalee mentioned?

I didn’t trust my voice. But I trusted my heart. I nodded so hard the cap fell off my head, and then Jake was picking me up and swinging me around to the wild cheers of the crowd.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, you amateurs.” Amie Jo elbowed her way up to us and picked up the box I’d knocked out of Jake’s grasp. She grabbed my hand, wrestled the ring onto it, then turned and smiled pretty for the crowd.

The deal sealed, I kissed Jake in an entirely unprofessional, unteacherly way. Some students probably had to bleach their eyes afterward. But I didn’t care. We’d started in the shadows under the bleachers. And here we were, twenty years later, standing in the sun.

We resumed our seats, and the rest of the ceremony was a blur. So were the congratulations and celebrations afterward. I got so many hugs from my players my neck was sore by the time we got back to the parking lot.