Page 12 of Blind Date
“How was your day?” Greta walked into my classroom.
“It was good.” I smiled. “How was yours?”
“It’s like beating my head against the wall trying to teach these little serpents Chemistry.” She fell into one of the desk chairs. “By the way. Did you sign up for the blind date auction?”
“God no.” I laughed. “I’m not interested in going on a date with any man right now.”
“It’s for the school.”
“Well, I’m not. I’ll leave it to the other teachers.” I smirked. “You sign up.”
“I did. I’m a delight, and these are rich men we’re talking about. Maybe it’ll work out, and I’ll never have to teach Chemistry again. It’s one date, Sam. One blind date. You don’t even have to like him. You sit there, let the man be charming, and eat the world’s nicest dinner, while some lonely rich person practices having a personality, and theschool gets the funds it needs to keep certain programs. Where’s the downside to all of that?”
“The downside is that the last time I trusted a man to be charming for two hours, he was charming for three years, and then I found out he’d been sharing that charm with a woman named Brittany from his gym.”
“It’s been six months, Sam.”
“And the wound is still fresh. I don’t know if I can ever trust a man again. I met his mother and bought her birthday and Christmas gifts. I learned to make his disgusting protein pancakes, and I drove four hours to watch him do a triathlon in the pouring rain. I stood there, holding up a sign, cheering his dumbass on, and the entire time, there was a Brittany. I’m such a fool.”
“In your defense, you didn’t know about Gym Girl Brittany.”
“There’s always a Brittany. That’s the thing nobody tells you. You can do everything right. You can hold the sign in the rain, and somewhere, there is always a Brittany. Out there, waiting and stretching her perfect body.”
“Okay, that’s a little bleak, Sam. Brittany was Chris’s character flaw. Not yours. It’s time to move on.”
“I’m busy. I have a teenager who communicates exclusively by slamming doors and a shitload of papers to grade. Besides, I’m under construction right now. I put up cones, and you cannot park there yet.”
“Under construction? And how long is this construction project going to take before it’s completed?” she asked. “Because I’ve driven past that lot for a while now, and I don’t see a lot of workers.”
“They’re on a break.”
“For six months? Fine. Don’t participate. But for the record. You teachingGatsbyto the students about how the saddest people are the ones who won’t let any good in,while you yourself put up cones around your own heart. The irony.” She shook her head. “For what it’s worth. Chris was a coward and a fool, and his pancakes sounded revolting. You, my friend, deserve somebody who’d hold the sign in the rain for you. And when you find him, I get full credit, and I’m your maid of honor at your wedding. I won’t wear pink, so start thinking of other colors. Until next time, love.” She smiled and left my classroom.
I gathered my things and headed to the soccer field to watch Zoey’s soccer practice. She was a natural—something she inherited from her loser father.
“Excuse me, Miss Hollis?”
“Mr. Pipps. How are you?”
“We need to have a chat about Zoey.” He sat on the bench next to me.
“What about her?”
“She’s a bright girl,” he said, pushing up his thick, black-rimmed glasses.
“She is.” I smiled.
“Very bright.”
“Why, thank you, Walter.”
“She’s possibly the brightest math student in all of my classes, which poses a problem.”
I understood why the students called him ‘The Turtle.’ Not only did his face resemble one, but he was slow as hell. Slow when he walked. Slow when he talked.
“Yesterday,” he paused. “I asked the class a question. A difficult question that Zoey happened to answer correctly.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” My brow furrowed.
