Page 37 of The Do-Over Girl

“Where’s your side-kick—Stevie, the novelist?”

“I have no idea because he’s not actually my sidekick.”

“There you go. Showing some spunk, Kali.” He grins in approval, and I don’t know whether I like it or if it annoys me.

I sigh and let my tension go because I’m tired of worrying about his agenda and our past. It’s all too exhausting. Maybe it’s time I drop some of the baggage. “You ready for tonight?”

“You know the answer to that—unless you’re talking about something else besides the game.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.

“I deserved that.” I swat his arm anyway.

He captures my hand and holds it against his forearm, and the hard muscles there flex, giving me palpitations. It’s only his forearm.

“I have something for you.”

My heart speeds up for real now, like I’m anticipating something special. His words feel intimate, but I steel myself and chill the hell out because it’s not like that between us. Or it shouldn’t be. Right?

He pulls out his phone and scrolls. “I just emailed you a list of ex-NHL players who’ve signed up to play in the APA benefit game. I think we have a good split for an East-against-West line-up. Archie will coach the East, and I’ve got old Smitty to coach the West.”

I open my mouth and stare at his grin. Then I throw my arms around him, nearly spilling his coffee. I practically jump into his lap with my excitement. “You’re kidding. This is perfect. You’ve worked a miracle. I’ve been trying to get this set up for days and days, and just like that, you’ve—”

“Take it easy there, Lollipop,” he whispers in my ear as his arms come around me, and he warms up to my embrace once his surprise wears off. “I’m very excitable where you’re concerned, and you don’t want to get me all—”

I back off immediately, letting him go like a hot iron. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“Don’t be sorry. I like it when you’re grateful.”

I swat him again and turn my attention back to my plate of food and coffee.

Charline comes over and puts a plate of food in front of Nash. “Here’s your French Toast Special, Nash. I threw in some sausages and eggs for protein because I know that’s what you athletes need.”

“You’re the best, Mrs. Pike. Whatever we’re paying you, it’s not enough.”

She smiles. “Don’t you worry. I worked in extra for the food in your rent.” She turns back to the stove and then stops. “And don’t you forget—no hanky-panky. I saw that PDA. I’m not blind, deaf, and dumb, you know. Not yet, at least.”

I burst out laughing because I can’t help it, and Nash does, too, but he settles down to eat in no time.

* * *

Saturday night dance

There’s an air of excitement at the school’s gym. I arrived early to help Mia and her friends, including most of the cheerleaders, decorate the space.

“This dance is going to be epic,” Mia says. “After last night's win, it’s like the hockey team owns this town. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You and the cheering squad deserve some of the credit with your social media campaign. You’re killing it out there.” I pause in cutting long strips of crepe paper to make my point. “How many Tiktok followers do you have now?”

Shelly takes the crepe paper from me. “The @SaveAPA handle and hashtag have over ten thousand followers on TikTok. I don’t know how many on IG or YouTube. Thousands.” She prances away, very pleased with herself.

“They got a radio station DJ to volunteer his services tonight because the social media campaign has gotten so big,” Mia says. “It’s way cool.”

I nod while I project what the proceeds will add up to because all the money will go to the APA fund, and it’s almost substantial enough to impress the trustees.

“Everyone will be here tonight,” Sondra says.

She’s right. In fact, such a huge crowd is expected that the entire APA faculty, staff, and a good number of community members are chaperoning. Mrs. Pike will be here, and even Steve Oliver has been recruited as a volunteer.

Nikki rushes by and stops. “How’s it going here? Do you have everything you need? You need any more people?”