See Me After Class(86)

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Initials?”

I chuckle. “Maybe.”

“I’ll take that for now.”





Chapter Twenty





GREER





Greer: Pleeeease, Stella?

Stella: No way in hell. I did my duty last year.

Greer: I don’t feel good. I really need you to fill in.

Stella: Liar.

Greer: I’m not lying.

Stella: Then what’s wrong with you?

Greer: Headache, stomachache, legs ache.

Stella: The stiff air of the gymnasium will make you feel better.

Greer: Did I mention I have the poops? I can’t possibly chaperone with a situation like that.

Stella: I’ll bring you some Imodium on the way to the bar. That should help.

Greer: Ugh, why are you not a good friend right now?

Stella: Me? You’re the one not being a good friend, trying to guilt me into chaperoning the homecoming dance.

Greer: You’re more experienced. I think pregnancies are going to happen on my watch. That’s not something I can have on my conscience.

Stella: But, there is the possibility they might name the baby after you in nine months. That’s an honor.

Greer: Stella, I’m begging you. I’ll buy you lunch every day until the end of the semester.

Stella: Your attempt to bribe me with food is commendable. Unfortunately, I’m watching the game with Romeo tonight. He got tickets and invited me and Cora since Gunner and Arlo are chaperoning with you. I’m about to get a footlong hotdog and shove it down my gullet. Don’t worry, I’ll think of you the entire time.

Greer: You hate me.

Stella: I love you. But this is something you have to do on your own. Good luck. Have fun!

Ugh. I shove my phone into the pocket of my dress and step out of my car. I tried Keeks, too, but she texted back “reptile brain” and that was it. I didn’t dive deeper, because, good God, I could see her thinking it’s okay to show pictures since she’s into evidence and all.

No luck.

I’m stuck chaperoning with Gunner and Arlo. I’m just hoping Gunner can be a good buffer.

I cross the threshold of the school and hear the music thumping through the halls. God, I already feel uncomfortable. From what I can remember from school dances, you’re either on the dance floor, grinding against each other, or you’re one of the nervous high schoolers sitting to the side, watching everyone grind on each other.

Unfortunately, I was a grinder growing up.

I decided to dress nicely though. A simple black dress with pockets that flares at my hips and black heels. My hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and I added a touch of red lipstick, something I never wear at school, but I felt like I needed to make an effort.

“Greer, hold up.” I turn to find Gunner jogging up to me. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a navy button-up shirt, tucked in, and a brown belt wrapped around his waist.

“You look nice,” I say.

Proudly, he plucks at his top and says, “Lindsay got me this shirt.”

“Aw, really?”

“Yeah, she brought it over right before I left. I think it was just an excuse to get in some lovin’ before I had to leave.”

“Well, that’s sweet. It looks nice on you.”

“I’ll have to tell her other teachers were hitting on me.”

“Uh, I wasn’t hitting on you. I said you look nice,” I say as we push through the gym doors to a decorated space of black and silver stars, multiple tables and chairs, and a dance floor with disco ball hanging overhead, which makes me chuckle. That had to be a teacher who put that up, not a student. There’s dark purple uplighting along the walls, making the gym look less like a sweaty place where sports take place and more like a magical oasis for the student population.

“She doesn’t have to know you were just being complimentary.”

“Sure, do that. Make her feel insecure, see where that gets you.”

Gunner taps his chin. “Hmm, you might be right about that.”

“I know I am.” Taking in the space some more, I say, “It looks good in here.”

“The budget is pretty big, thanks to the PTA. They have a budget line set aside for dances. It also helps that the head of the PTA is a party planner for Chicago’s elite. She gets killer deals.”

“Then why do they have it in the gym? They could have it at an event hall.”

“Dewitt likes to keep all dances on campus. They did a hotel banquet room once and we quickly noticed the students were filtering off the dance floor and straight up to the rooms.”

“Oh yeah.” I chuckle. “That probably isn’t the best idea.”

“Nope, and it’s not as easy getting alcohol in here since Dewitt has a shake down at the doors and breath tests, as well as a check-in. If you buy tickets, you’re required to show up unless we receive a verbal message from the parent that the student can’t attend. And there’s also a checkout, where parents are informed that the kids left the dance.”

“Jesus, that’s pretty secure.”

“It’s why Dewitt always wins Principal of the Year for the state of Illinois. She’s about education and safety, and she thinks everything through.”