I call her as soon as I hang up the phone with Rushmore, both excited about the news and confused about the things that Ridley has been keeping from me. My call goes to voicemail, so I send her a text.
“Ridley, please call me. We need to talk.”
When she doesn’t answer, I text her. I tell her everything. That her father spilled the beans about her being a student at Greenbridge Academy; and that I’m—surprise!—going to be teaching there in no less than three days.
Still, I want to talk to her, to see her face, and hear her voice. But all I get in reply are breezy text messages.
She’s protecting herself again. Putting her guard up. Well, she’s going to learn soon enough, I can’t have that happening.
20
Ridley
He’s going to break up with me. He’s moving here to teach, he knows everything, and he’s breaking up with me.
Between his packing and me going to long hours of intense swim practice before the start of my final semester at Greenbridge, we play phone tag.
But on my end, I have to admit it’s a half hearted phone tag; I know he won’t break up with me over text.
Because Crosby is a better person than I am.
21
Crosby
The students at this school barely need me to tell them anything about game design. The students who chose my class are already so advanced for their age, we end up just shooting the shit for an hour about their favorite games.
If the rest of the semester goes this smoothly, I won’t feel good about taking the money.
But I’ll have to stick around. I mean, no way I would quit. I’d teach for free just to be in the same town as Ridley.
I mull over how I can make the class a little more challenging for all these little brainiacs while I study the vegan cheese selections in the school cafeteria. What kind of a school has more than one choice of vegan cheese?
I never had the opportunity to attend Greenbridge when I lived here. After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom raised me on a waitress’s salary plus the little bit of help from child support. She didn’t ask for much from my dad other than what was legally required. She managed to make ends meet but we were relegated to second-hand clothes for school, and I sometimes got the free backpack of donated school supplies.
When I began my senior year, it broke my mom’s heart to tell me we wouldn’t be able to afford for me to go away to college. Broke my dad’s heart, too, when it turned out I didn’t ask him for help. Instead I went to community college and then broke into the business fairly young. I got lucky. I worked hard, and still do, but mostly I feel lucky.
And now here I am, a successful game designer, my father’s about to marry one of the richest housewives in America, and I’m boning my future stepsister and the entire family is either sad or mad about it.
I move on from the vegan cheese and instead help myself to a veggie hot dog with mustard. As I navigate around some students with my tray, I nearly run right into a gaggle of what looks like the mean girls of the school. Perfect eyebrows, designer handbags, and pouty lips.
And right in the dead center of the pack, walking just a step ahead of everyone else with the haughtiest, most gorgeous face I’ve ever seen, is Ridley Rushmore.
She spots me immediately and our eyes lock.
Her expression is, of course, unreadable.
My feelings are all over my face. And that’s why I was a nerd in high school and she is the queen bee.
My eyes travel down to her uniform. Skinny plaid necktie, cardigan, and pleated plaid skirt hiked up just shy of what’s allowed. My mouth goes dry, my heart races, my hands sweat.
My head reminds my cock and my heart that she lied to me. But wait, did she actually lie?
One thing is for certain, we need to talk in private.
“Hi,” I say, barely hiding the fact that I’m a teacher, saying hello to his high school girlfriend.
She smiles brilliantly and rolls her eyes playfully. “Everyone? Meet my soon-to-be stepbrother, nerd extraordinaire.”