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Emily and Kyle had lunch duty. They leaned against the padded gym walls and stared silently out at the dining adolescents. She had just heard, and chosen to ignore, the third f-bomb of the period. “You know,” she said, trying to make conversation, “the biggest argument against homeschooling is that kids won’t learn social skills—but do you see great social skills here?”
Kyle looked at her. “You going to homeschool?”
“No, but there are families in my church who do, and I can’t say I blame them.”
Kyle snorted. “Religious fanatics. I’d find another church, Em.”
She bristled more at him calling her Em than she did at the fanatics comment. “They’re not fanatics,” she said. And I’m not your friend so don’t call me Em, she thought. Then, although, I did start this conversation so it’s my own fault.
“Whatever you say,” he said without looking at her.
“I know them. They’re not fanatics. And they don’t homeschool because of religion. They homeschool because they are trying to protect their children.
“From what?”
“From this!” She pointed at the students she loved so much: at Duke, who was currently flipping someone off; at Tyler, who had just dropped a hamburger bun and was now intentionally grinding it into the floor with his heel; at freshman Sydney, who had her hands so far up senior Blake’s leg that Emily knew she should intervene; at DeAnna, who sat ostracized at her own table, though there were only six tables in the whole cafeteria.
“You might have a point,” Kyle admitted. “But I still don’t think homeschooling is the answer.”
“Excuse me,” a voice on the other side of Kyle said. “Are you Miss Morse?”
Emily looked around Kyle and up into the face of an exceptionally attractive man. Dark brown locks fell over his tan forehead and into one of his chocolate brown eyes, almost touching his sharp, high cheekbones.
“I am,” she said, grateful her voice didn’t shake. She blinked, thought of James, and completely recovered. “I am,” she said again. “How can I help you?”
“Do you have a moment?” he said, looking at Kyle as if he wanted him to go away.
“Sure, let’s step outside,” she said. They stepped out into the hallway, where Larry was lurking, so she continued walking. “Let’s go into the conference room.” She entered the empty room and flicked on the lights, but she didn’t shut the door. She had learned a lot from James, and knew it wasn’t wise to be alone in a room with a man, especially one who looked like this.
He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jake Jasper. I’ve just moved to the island, for a while at least. I’m going to be the foreman at the wind turbine site.”
“Oh!” Emily exclaimed. “Well, then, welcome to the island!”
He smiled, revealing ridiculously straight, white teeth. “Thank you. I wanted to talk to you about my daughter, Juniper. She’ll be starting here tomorrow. She’s a junior, and they tell me you’re the softball coach.”
This perked her up. “I am! Tell me she’s a pitcher.”
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “You need a pitcher?”
“Indeed we do.”
“Well, that might help. But she also plays third.”
“Help what?”
“Juniper is furious with me.” He took a deep breath and a half step back. Then he put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. “It’s kind of a long story, but Juniper’s mom left a while back, and so now it’s just the two of us. I used to travel a lot for work, and so, we don’t have the best relationship. And well”—he looked at her—“I just uprooted my teenage daughter from her hometown, all her friends, and her class A softball team, and I moved her to the middle of the ocean, where she said there wasn’t even a softball team.” He looked confused.
“She was right. There didn’t used to be. This is our first year.”
His jaw clenched. “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”
“It is. I’m sorry that we won’t be what she’s used to, but we will have fun, and we would love to have her. Even if she’s not a pitcher.”
“Oh, she is. She’s amazing. But she’s also copping a major attitude since her mom left. I mean, she was no saint before. But since our split, her grades have slid, and she started hanging out with different kids ... I think just to irritate me ... another reason leaving Mattawooptock was a good idea ... sorry, I’m babbling.”
“Mattawooptock?” Emily asked. Even without paying attention, Emily knew that Mattawooptock was one of the strongest softball programs in the state.
“Yep. She wasn’t the starting pitcher, but she might get the spot next year. She says she would have had it this year, but I think that’s a stretch.” He paused, and then hastened to add, “Not that I’m asking you to let her pitch, or start her, or anything. I just wanted to give you a heads up before she shows up tomorrow copping major attitude and acting like she’s too good for your team. I wanted you to know I am completely aware of her antics and will support the school in dealing with them. Don’t hesitate to call me when you have issues, because ... I think you will.”
“Well!” Emily said, unsure of what to say next. This was the most pleasant parent conference she’d ever had. When it wasn’t necessary to defend herself, she wasn’t sure how to respond. “Thank you for coming in. I think she’ll be fine, really. We’ll take good care of her, and she’ll adjust. There are some great kids here, and I’ll ask a few of them to help make her feel welcome.”
His face lit up. “I hadn’t even thought to ask that. Thanks.” He nodded, there was an awkward pause, and then he stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Miss Morse. I mean it.”
She shook his hand. “Emily, please. And you’re welcome.”
Emily didn’t get a chance to talk to Thomas and Chloe together, alone, until the following morning. “I have a big favor to ask of you two.”
Chloe looked thrilled.
Thomas looked suspicious. “Does this have anything to do with the stupid windmills?”
“No, why?” Emily asked, surprised.
“Because people are prank calling my house all night long. And Marget is refusing to sell our family groceries. Big whoop. Like we’re not perfectly capable of going to the mainland and saving zillions of dollars not shopping at her stupid store.”
Emily stared at him, unsure of what to say. “Well, maybe it’s indirectly related to the windmills.”
Thomas groaned.
“What is it, Miss M?” Chloe asked.
“We’re getting a new girl today. And I need you two to befriend her, make her feel welcome—it’s not easy being the new kid here. I speak from experience.”
“Fine,” Thomas said. “Is she hot?”
Chloe jammed her elbow into his ribs. Hard.
“Ow!” he cried. But his eyes were sparkling.
“I have no idea if she’s attractive, but I need you to be nice to her either way.” Emily looked at Chloe. “She’s probably going to play softball.”
Chloe’s eyes lit up. “I’m on it, Miss Morse.” She looked at Thomas, then back at Emily. “We’re on it. Piece of cake. I’ll even invite her to church.”
Thomas groaned again.
“Great. Thanks. And don’t forget to keep inviting Thomas too. Now, she’s a junior, so you’ll be with her all day, Thomas. Her name is Juniper.”
Thomas swore. Then, “Sorry, Miss M. I just ... I didn’t realize she was here already. That’s the windmill chick.” He spoke the words with gravity, as if he were announcing an impending viral outbreak.
“So?” Emily asked.
“So?” Thomas cried, incredulous. “So you’re asking the current punching bag of all windmill hatred to take care of the future punching bag of windmill hatred? You really didn’t think this through, did you?”
Chloe looked at Thomas. “How do you already know about her?”
“Because her dad is renting one of our apartments. And because my parents told me about them. But I didn’t think they were here yet. This is going to suck so bad.”
Emily leaned forward in her chair. “Sounds like you and Juniper might need each other.”
Chloe flushed red, just a little. “It’ll be fine, Miss M. Don’t forget, Thomas is a drama queen.”
Emily thought maybe Chloe was feeling a little jealous and hurried to redirect. “I just thought this was a good task for you two. You’re the popular kids around here.”
Thomas snorted. “I’m not sure any fish is popular in a mud puddle, Miss Morse.”
