Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(24)

“Is that so?”

Margie kept her fake grin in place as she spoke. “How is that cooking thing you’re doing?”

Zoe’s jaw tightened and Melanie stood back.

In the past, Zoe would light into Melanie with a snarky zinger that put the other woman back for a week.

The tight jaw lasted two breaths and Zoe shook her head. “It’s doing very well, thank you. I’m happy to say my pastime in high school afforded me a living.” The words she didn’t say hung between them, but God help Margie, she didn’t hear them.

Margie’s pastime was hooking up with everyone else’s boyfriend.

“That’s wonderful for you.”

An awkward moment of silence followed before Margie glanced at her feet, and then the yearbook in her hands. “Oh, I almost forgot. There are a few people I was hoping the two of you could identify.”

The three of them moved to a table and peered at the yearbook.

Looking at the pictures of a decade past had Melanie wondering where her old yearbook ended up. She’d left it with her mom when she went off to college, but then some of her belongings went with her dad to Texas.

The pages of the track team splayed out and some of the happier times in her life surfaced.

“I’m going to break out in a sweat just looking at these pictures,” Zoe said.

“Remember Coach Reynolds’s punishment for showing up late to practice?”

Zoe cringed. “Running Lob Hill . . . that sucked.”

Lob Hill sat beyond the track and football field on the far north of the school. There wasn’t a street or anything to it other than a forty percent incline that made running up it grueling. Whenever the team had shown out or arrived late, or simply pissed off the coach by not paying attention, Lob Hill was mentioned and they all took off running.

Reynolds held a stopwatch in his hand and if you didn’t return in fifteen minutes you were told to run the hill again.

Margie pointed to a face on the page. “Do you know who this is?”

The image didn’t strike any memories.

“I think he was only around the last year. Perry something . . . what was his last name?” Zoe squeezed her eyes as if activating her brain. “Anders . . . no, Anderson.”

“Oh, that’s right. Yeah, shy guy with great hair.” Melanie wondered if the kid had managed to keep it.

Margie pointed to a few more alumni before gathering what she needed and walking away.

“Just as annoying as an adult as she was a kid,” Zoe quietly said under her breath.

“People don’t change.”

“I did.”

Melanie narrowed her eyes. “No. You were always wicked smart and determined to be more than what this town thought you were. You may have changed your living conditions and lifestyle, but you’re still Zoe.” She pointed to the open yearbook. “You’re still this girl.”

Zoe shook her head, her eyes darkened. “That’s a prison man’s daughter who lives in a double-wide on the wrong side of town. I’m no longer her.”

The blood in Melanie’s face drained and her lips slacked open.

With a shake of her head, Zoe mumbled something about using the bathroom and scrambled off, leaving Melanie staring after her.

Where had that come from?

Melanie started after her when Luke cut Zoe off at the door to the gym. Even from a distance, she noticed Luke’s expression sharpen. It wasn’t long before he put his arm around Zoe’s shoulders and led her from the noisy gym. The sight of them reminded her of how much she envied their relationship in high school. How much she wanted a love like that. It wasn’t a surprise she’d fallen into Nathan’s hands so easily. It was as if without the wise guidance from her true friends, she’d been vulnerable for the taking.

She meandered out of the gym and onto the field. A few joggers were taking advantage of the fair weather and running the track. In the center of the field, the football team was running drills. Up in the stands were a gaggle of cackling girls staring at the small screens of their cell phones.

Not a lot had changed in ten years. The faces were different, the dynamics . . . not so much.

The pole vault pit sat in the southwest corner of the field. A tarp covered the mass of foam and cushion that kept the vaulters from hurting themselves when they landed after their jumps. The standards framed the pit but the poles and crossbars were put away in a locked shed.

Memories of her first jump, how uncoordinated she’d felt, surfaced. It took three months before she actually landed a decent vault. It had only been five feet, but God it felt good. She remembered the senior vaulters all cheering. Zoe had given a thumbs-up, and Jo told her to aim higher or join high jump.

She aimed higher.

“Can’t help yourself, can you?”

Melanie jumped and turned.

“You like sneaking up on people, Coach?”

Wyatt stood behind her with a smile. A sexy smile that warmed her.

“I didn’t sneak, you weren’t paying attention.”

Yeah, right . . . she sat on the pit and couldn’t help but bounce. The condition of the pit had deteriorated over the past decade. “Do you vault?” she asked him.

“I never got the hang of the turn. Luckily, coaching doesn’t require me to break anything. Did you vault in college?”