Bouncing (14 page)

Alex squirmed a little. Why did this feel like an interrogation? “No, not always. Sometimes I ask girls out. But I usually don’t ask them out twice.”

Brit nodded as she seemed to be processing the information. “What exactly did happen that night in Rehoboth?”

Alex relaxed. This was the easy part, because the facts clearly demonstrated her innocence. “Anke left for the airport that morning. We said good-bye and I thought I’d never see her again. But she developed second thoughts about leaving Rehoboth. During the drive to the airport she realized that…she was in love with me. She managed to get bumped from her flight and came back looking for me.”

“And she couldn’t call you?”

“My phone was dead. She got a ride to my house, stole Kim’s bike, then spent the day wandering all over looking for me. We left the beach early because it was hot and went for drinks in town. Then I left early for Sal’s house. It was all just bad timing.”

“I’ll say. So you didn’t make up on the boardwalk? She still left?”

Alex cringed. Anke had no place to stay, so Alex had offered her lodging. Of course Anke wanted to sleep with Alex. Alex couldn’t do it, though. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Brit. Angry that Alex refused her, Anke once again accused her of an affair with Brit and attempted to strike her. At that point Alex had piled Anke’s luggage into her car and driven her back to the airport.

She was so exhausted by the ordeal that she decided to come home and hadn’t been back to the beach since. After arriving back in Clarks Summit, Alex had spent the past days cleaning her apartment and putting her school clothes in order, getting ready for the new school year. And all the while she was thinking of Britain and wondering what she could say to erase the horrible memory of those few moments on the boardwalk.

“Yes, she still left. I didn’t want her to stay, Brit. I don’t love her. It was really just an arrangement.”

Brit frowned and the color seemed to drain from her face.

“It sounds awful, doesn’t it?”

Brit turned toward Alex and looked over her shoulder to the stream and the trees. It was a beautiful place, a romantic spot to walk with a lover or a dog, or to bring kids for a picnic. Not a place for flings. Brit wasn’t a fling person, and no matter how eloquently Alex pleaded her case, Brit would never be able to understand her actions. Mindful of her manners, she replied cautiously.

“Well, to me it does,” Brit said. “I guess I’m a little old-fashioned. I believe in love and commitment.” She looked at Alex and shrugged. “You know—the white house with the picket fence and the growing old together.”

Alex was quiet as she stared into the distance, and Brit feared she’d been too judgmental after all. It saddened her, for the loss of what might have been, but in the end, it was really none of her business who Alex slept with or just what arrangements she made with her lovers. Brit placed her hand on Alex’s knee. “I’m sorry, Alex. I shouldn’t have said that. There’s nothing wrong with other people having flings, it’s just not what I would want in a relationship. I guess everyone just needs to understand the rules. And if that works for you and your girlfriends—who am I to judge you?”

“I guess the problem is that with women, sometimes the rules change,” Alex said.

Brit laughed. “Or not everyone wants to obey them. I guess that’s what happened with Anke, huh?”

Alex nodded in agreement.

“Has this ever happened before? Where someone expected more than you were willing to give?”

Alex shrugged, and her action suggested that she took no responsibility for the outcome of her previous affairs. Brit might have had many things in common with Alex, but relationship goals weren’t one of them. As much as she found Alex beautiful, as funny and intelligent as she knew her to be—all she could hope for was friendship. The bright day seemed somehow dreary as Brit admitted the facts. Alex was only interested in the one thing Brit wouldn’t give her. Sex. Trying to lighten the moment, Brit attempted a joke.

“You should be flattered, Alex—women can’t help themselves from falling for you.”

Brit suddenly realized what she’d revealed and recoiled until she noticed the comment had gone right over Alex’s head.
Whew.

“Well, the other night on that beach—I kinda thought there was some falling going on,” Alex said hopefully. Flirtatiously. “I like you Brit. I was hoping that we might…” She didn’t finish the statement, but let it hang in the air between them.

Suddenly, Brit was quite serious as their blue eyes met. There could be no more flirting. She wouldn’t do anything to mislead Alex. All playfulness disappeared from her tone. “That night was a fluke, Alex. Too much wine and too many stars, I guess.”

Alex looked crestfallen. “So…?”

Brit shook her head, not just to convey her thoughts but so they actually might stick and take hold in her own mind. “I can’t…” she finished the thought with a frown and a shrug.

Alex didn’t reply for a moment as she seemed to contemplate Brit’s words. “You’ll still coach though, right?”

Alex turned, leaned forward, and put a hand on Brit’s knee as her eyes sought Brit’s.

Brit looked away. “Alex, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Alex’s grip grew firmer. “Brit, please. I really need you. I’m desperate.”

Brit chewed on her bottom lip for a second. She really did want to coach. And while she might get a job somewhere else, it would be so easy to coach at Endless Mountains, where she would be teaching. She wouldn’t have to rush to get to after-school practices in another town, and make a long drive home afterward. It made perfect sense. She was a big girl. She could stick to business and coach with Alex without letting Alex’s charms affect her.

“Okay. We’re going to teach together and coach together, and I think we’ll be great friends, Alex. But let me be clear. I’ll never trust you with my heart.”

Alex sat for a long while after Brit left her, watching life happening around her. People walking, talking, laughing. Dogs prancing. Birds flying through tree branches and a brook burbling nearby. It was all so mundane and normal and perfect, and she would never be any of those things.

The stunning irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her, and if she wasn’t so looking forward to a good cry she might have laughed. How could she have met a woman who finally made her consider changing her lascivious ways, and said woman would have nothing to do with her because of her past?

It had been a foolish idea to reconsider her decision to remain single. Brit’s rejection had been a good thing. A relationship would have been wrong. Alex knew it. She just needed to figure out how to convince her heart.

Happy Hour

Whizzing by, the first few weeks seemed a blur to Brit as she packed her bag at the end of school one Friday toward the end of September. It amazed her how easily she fell into the routine of teaching, how good and natural it was for her to be in front of a class of students.

They were great, the students. She had the typical problems that every teacher faces—tardiness and inattention, a few rogue troublemakers—but they were a clear minority. The majority of her pupils were intelligent and interested in the subject matter, eager to fill their brains with all the knowledge she could pass their way.

She saw Alex every day, and they were friendly but didn’t have much time to talk at school. Their classrooms were on different floors and they monitored separate lunch periods. If things had gone differently for them, Brit might have sought Alex out, but they hadn’t, so she had been trying to keep a respectable distance. It was hard, though. In spite of what she knew about Alex, she couldn’t help thinking about her. She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt. Fortunately, she had the distraction of school to occupy her mind.

Alex had shared the news of her hiring with the team, and over the first days of school, all of the players introduced themselves. She was teaching nearly every player in either her introductory or senior biology classes. As she walked through the halls each day, some of them greeted her. “Hey, Coach” had begun to sound pleasingly familiar, and she was happy she’d stuck with her decision to coach.

A sense of peace came to her as she was settling into her job and into her life. Slowly, Brit was defining her future rather than allowing others to do it for her. New stories were being written, and it was refreshing to not simply reread the same old ones she knew by heart. It never would have occurred to her that she was sad before, but now, feeling happy for perhaps the first time since college, she realized she had been.

“Miss Dodge? Do you have a minute?”

Brit looked up from her desk into the questioning eyes of Erica Drummond, a sophomore student in her biology class. It was 2:50, the closing bell had just sounded, and a flurry of students was making as hasty a departure as possible, eager to begin their weekends. What could possibly bring Erica to her door at this time?

Brit saw the concern in her student’s eyes, though, and immediately invited her to come in. “What’s going on?” she asked.

Erica’s eyes filled with tears and she bit her lower lip. Brit walked a few steps toward the door, closing the gap between them, and gently squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “What is it?” she asked, more gently this time.

Brit’s alarm was growing by the second as she waited to know what was troubling Erica. She really didn’t know her that well and had only spoken to her in the confines of the classroom. Whatever it was, though, it had to be serious.

“It’s about my eyes. They’re blue. You gave us our homework for the weekend and told us to figure out the genetics of our family members. I started working on it in study hall last period. My eyes are blue, Miss Dodge, and my parents’ are brown. My three brothers have brown eyes. I must have been adopted, or my mother had an affair!” Erica burst into tears when she finished speaking.

Sighing in relief, Brit pulled Erica into a tight but brief hug. “Relax. Sit down,” she said. “I’ll show you how it works.”

Grabbing a pen and paper from her drawer, Brit began to draw the grid of genetic combinations for eye color that had been the homework assignment. “So, Erica, you have blue eyes. What does that tell us about your genes?”

“I’m recessive.”

“Exactly. Blue-eyed people know their genes for sure, because they must have two blue alleles to have blue eyes. They get one gene from each parent.” Brit drew the chart that depicted Erica’s family genes, filling in the two blue alleles for her, and also one in each of her parents’ eyes.

“So your parents both have brown eyes?” Erica nodded. “What can we say for sure about someone with brown eyes?”

“They’re dominant?”

“Yes. They must have at least one brown, dominant allele. But they don’t have to have two brown alleles. They could have one brown and one blue.” Brit wrote the combinations down for Erica to study. “See?” she asked, and when Erica nodded again, Brit filled in the blanks on her parents’ charts, giving both of them a brown-blue genetic combination. “So, here you have it. Your parents can both have brown eyes and have a twenty-five percent chance of having a blue-eyed daughter. Understand?”

Erica continued to study the paper, and Brit watched the relief of comprehension wash over her face. Then she buried her face in her hands and mumbled, “I. Am. So. Stupid.”

Brit laughed. “No, you’re not. It’s just a little confusing at first, that’s all. You’ll get it now, though, I’m sure.”

Erica looked again at the drawing Brit had made. “My family is actually perfect, I guess. They should have had three children with brown eyes and one with blue, and they did.”

“You’re right. Feel better?”

Erica sniffled. “Much.”

“Good. Now go home and have a nice weekend.”

Erica seemed to overcome her embarrassment as she smiled. “Thank you, sooooo much!”

“No worries, Erica.”

It was now three and Brit figured it was time to head home. There were numerous routes to the teachers’ parking lot, and one of them—which wasn’t the shortest of her choices—took her past Alex’s classroom. She was surprised to see Alex’s door open. What was Alex doing here late on a Friday? Surely she had a busy social calendar that required a hasty Friday afternoon escape from school.

Alex was seated at her desk studying paperwork and didn’t immediately notice as Brit walked in. She supposed she should have knocked, but seeing Alex sitting there looking absolutely gorgeous caused Brit to forget her manners. Alex’s curls fell loosely around her face, and as she looked down at the paper that held her attention, her face tilted just a little, her full lips pursed, she was a breathtaking sight. Brit stopped and swallowed before she spoke.

After a moment she found her voice. “Hey.”

Alex looked up, and Brit could tell from twenty feet away that her blue eyes had become turquoise to match the silk shirt she wore. She smiled in greeting, placed her paper on the desk, and leaned back in her chair. “How’s it going?”

“Well.”

“Tell me about it,” Alex suggested.

Brit sat at the edge of Alex’s desk and shared a few of the joys and triumphs of her first weeks of school. If only she could calm the pounding in her chest, the bundles of nerves that frizzled when she was around her. If she could quiet the attraction she could work on being friends. But the pull of Alex’s eyes drew Brit, the warmth of her smile and her laughter so inviting Brit felt herself leaning back so she didn’t fall into Alex’s arms.

Alex watched Brit thoughtfully. The happiness in her voice was as unmistakable as the twinkle in her eyes. Alex added her opinions and comments where she thought necessary, but otherwise she just sat and allowed Brit to talk, only half listening. Whenever Brit was around, Alex’s concentration wavered. And since Brit had made it clear how she felt about Alex, she had to gain control of her hormones or she was in for trouble.

After ten minutes of babbling, Britain brought her hand to her mouth, obviously dismayed. “Oh, my God! I sound like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. I’m sorry.”

Alex shook her head. “Don’t be silly. I was the same way. It’s good to see you so happy. And if it means anything—the students love you. They have nothing but positive things to say.”