Page 70 of The Do-Over Girl

KALI

Another month goes by, and we spend every night together, alternating our rooms. Mrs. Pike sends me conspiratorial looks and winks every morning.

Nash’s team keeps winning games. I shouldn’t refer to Andrews Point Academy’s hockey team as Nash’s team, but that’s where my mind goes. It’s the way he takes ownership, the way the guys follow him around in school, and the way they emulate him in his seriousness and hard work.

With the benefit game and gala a few days away, we have a meeting with the board of trustees.

I’m sandwiched between Nikki and Nash on one side of the table, and four board members sit opposite us. The chair sits at the head and brings the meeting to order.

He asks Nikki to report first.

“We have income and pledges for well over five million dollars. To collect the money, all we need to do is play the APA benefit game. Aside from Nash’s million-dollar donation, the biggest chunk of money is coming from the NHL network, which is airing the game live.”

The chair nods. Then he looks to Nash.

“What about the state tournament?”

“It starts in ten days. We’re the top seed. We’re going to win it.”

Nikki inserts, “Winning the state tournament was not a condition of the pledges or—”

“No worries,” Nash says.

The chair aims his gaze at me. “So, all you need to do is make sure the benefit game and gala come off without any glitches.” Then he turns to Nash. “And all you need to do is win the state tournament.”

Nikki leans forward and aims a steely-eyed stare at the chair. “If we do that—correction—when we do that, what kind of commitment will we get from you?”

“If you do that, the finances and reputation of Andrews Point Academy will be in good enough standing to collect on all the pledges and for the Board of Trustees to consider committing to Andrews Point Academy running for another ten years.”

She nods, and I exhale a breath, squeezing her arm and beaming a smile.

“Gentlemen,” I say, feeling it, “I think you might even consider a twenty-year commitment before we’re finished.”

A couple of the trustees nod and smile, but the chair gives a non-committal bland nod as if he’s telling me we still have a lot to prove. “We’re up to it,” I say in answer to his silent question.

* * *

“The Andrews Point Academy Marinershockey team has a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving with an undefeated record.” Steve reads the Portland newspaper sports page to us out loud. Charline smiles as she prepares to carve the turkey.

“You know, it’s rude to read the paper at the dinner table, right?” Nash says, smirk in place. Steve’s face drops like he can’t believe Nash is complaining until I nudge Nash with a smile to let Steve know he was kidding.

“You should know better than to take him seriously by now.”

“Yeah, Steve. What’s up with that? Why aren’t we pals by now?” Nash is still kidding. He’s far too content to worry about anything, least of all what Steve thinks of him.

But Steve isn’t stupid. “We are pals. That’s why I just read out loud how you’re the new hockey god around these parts.”

Nash snorts, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “You know what they say, Steve?”

“This I’ve got to hear,” he says, rolling his eyes, and I laugh, pleased that he’s buying into Nash’s ever-present irreverence.

“They say the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I’m surprised, being the literary expert you are, that you didn’t know this.”

Steve snorts and gives Nash a surreptitious finger. Then he stands to help Charline with the turkey.

“You’re not going to fall,” I say. “The team’s only close call was against Cabot Cove, and you won that within thirty seconds in overtime once you gave them a talking to.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you finished the season undefeated,” Charline said, passing the mashed potatoes.