WHEN RYAN VOLUNTEERED him to chaperone the eighth-grade, year-end dance, Marcus knew exactly what his son was up to. Ryan had noticed—and commented on—the wave he’d sent Principal Hawkins that day he’d picked the boys up after school. Ryan had read way too much into a simple gesture.
Now he was determined to put Marcus in close proximity to his pretty school principal.
Which was why Marcus hadn’t mentioned meeting her at the coffee shop the other night. Though he had to admit, Addie was definitely eye-catching, and talking with her had been challenging and interesting.
But mostly, she’d made him laugh. Something he couldn’t remember doing in ages. She’d popped into his thoughts so many times since then.
But he’d found, and lost, the love of his life. He wasn’t going to find anyone else like Carolyn, and he’d worked hard the past couple years to reconcile himself to that.
The problem wasn’t his. It was Ryan’s. The boy was determined that Marcus would not spend his life alone, and put considerable effort into finding someone to replace his mother.
Somehow, that made Marcus sad.
Carolyn might not have been Ryan’s biological mother, but she’d loved him, wanted him and created a life that had been everything they could hope for. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that it hadn’t lasted.
Marcus forced himself to focus on the room around him instead of on the world that had been. If his son was any example, a room full of thirteen-year-olds could get into plenty of trouble.
Even with half a dozen chaperones around.
“So, how did he con you into doing this?” The woman’s voice came from behind him. Since the music wasn’t nearly as loud as at the dances when he was a kid, he could actually hear her. Marcus looked over his shoulder to find Addie standing there, a plastic cup of punch in one hand, the other hand shoving the riot of blond curls behind one ear.
Maybe she was the one controlling the volume of the music. He heard the half-dozen metal bracelets clatter as they fell along the length of her forearm.
“He said it was mandatory.”
She laughed. “We do push for each parent to do their turn, but we don’t use that word.”
“Apparently, my son does.” He stared into his own cup of overly sweet punch.
“We’ll work on that.” She moved beside him. “Look at the positive side. You’ve done your turn once this is over.” She smiled, and her face transformed, softened, sweetened.
He smiled back, unable to resist her infectious optimism. “How do you do this every day?”
“Do what? We only have two dances a year.”
He laughed. “No. Do this.” He pointed at the room. “Survive all this teenage energy. Just being around Ryan wears me out. You deal with it most of your day.”
“I guess I’m used to it. Being the principal gives me less student contact than when I was a teacher.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Sometimes.” She glanced toward the center of the gym floor. A grand total of two couples were dancing. “This is my first year as a principal, so it’s all new. I’m learning.”
New challenges. He understood that. He tried to find his son’s familiar blond head in the crowd. He’d been over by the basketball backboard with Dex, the neighbor kid who’d become Ryan’s new best friend. And while Ryan thought Dex was the next best thing, Marcus wasn’t convinced.
His concern must have shown on his face. “Don’t worry.” She leaned toward him. “We have a dozen parents here tonight. They can’t get into too much trouble.”
“Have you met my son?” Marcus looked at her askance. “He doesn’t need five seconds to find trouble.”
She laughed. “I’d say that’s pretty normal for his age. He’s a very inquisitive kid.”
“That’s for sure. From the minute he could talk he was asking questions.” He saw Ryan and Dex appear out of the crowd, chasing each other and laughing.
The silence between Marcus and Addie wasn’t quiet, but it was comfortable. They stood there through the length of a couple of songs, listening, watching, waiting. For what, he didn’t have a clue.
“Did you ever get around to reading your book?” she asked.
“Book?” Then he remembered the coffee shop. “No, I haven’t had time.” Nor the inclination. He was still waiting for his parents to appear on his doorstep as his sister had predicted.
A man came over shortly after the song ended, his smile too wide. “Hello, Addie.” The man stepped in too close to her. “How are you?”
“Hello, Mr. Wilson. How’s Bethany doing tonight?” Addie leaned around the man to observe the kids, despite the man’s attempts to dominate her attention.
“She’s having a good time. So glad you still have these types of activities for the kids. Keeps them off the streets and out of trouble.”
“We do what we can.”
Marcus watched, noting her forced smile and the way she leaned away from the guy. She didn’t like him, but she did a fairly good job of hiding that fact. The man stepped closer, and if it weren’t for the table directly behind them, she’d have probably stepped away. She was trapped, and the realization flashed in her eyes.
“Hello, I’m Marcus Skylar.” Marcus moved closer as well, sticking his hand out as a barrier between her and the other man. He actually looked surprised to see Marcus there. Addie looked relieved, and Marcus pushed Wilson to interact with him.
“And you are?”
The stranger looked perturbed, but shook Marcus’s hand. “Jack Wilson.” He stepped back, and Addie seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Excuse me.” She stepped away, granting Marcus a faint, thankful smile before she headed toward a couple of boys who seemed to be heading toward the door.
“Which kid is yours?” Marcus asked.
“My daughter’s over there.” Jack pointed toward a group of girls huddled along the bleachers, ignoring everyone around them. “The pretty one on the end.”
Marcus wasn’t sure which girl he meant. There were half a dozen of them, and all of them were dolled up. A sense of dread hit him. Thankfully, Ryan was still oblivious to girls. A reprieve...for a while at least.
But someday, and probably soon, Ryan was going to notice.
* * *
ADDIE ROAMED THROUGH the gym. The boys were mostly on one side, the girls on the other. She liked this age. They weren’t yet single-minded. The operative word being yet. She smiled and took another trip around the room.
A girl’s voice came from around the corner of the bleachers. “Boys are just stupid.”
“Oh, you’re just mad because Peter broke up with you right before the dance.”
“Am not.” She was definitely pouting.
“Are, too.” The girl laughed. “Come on, Jill. There are lots of other guys here. Look around.”
“I don’t want to. Guys suck,” she repeated.
“Did you see him?” The second girl’s excited, breathy voice perked up Addie’s ears.
“Who?” the first girl asked.
“The dark-haired guy,” she whispered.