Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Oh, I’ve thought it all through. You’re too worried about things going wrong to let them go right. There’s not a chance in hell you’ll be the one to ask me to stay. And goodness knows you won’t be chasing me back to New York. So I’m simply going to plant my butt in the sand and stay until you come to your senses and give us the chance we deserve.”
“Nolan.” My eyes stung and my throat was as raw as if I’d swallowed broken shells. “Don’t do this. What if the part of a lifetime comes along, and you miss it because you’re here?”
“What if it already has?” he countered, raising a possibility I absolutely refused to consider.
“Dad! Dad! Ryder is throwing up.” Legend came rushing into the courtyard.
“For real throwing up or New Year’s prank throwing up?” Nolan narrowed his eyes.
“For real.” Legend wrinkled his nose. “It’s pretty yuck. Athena got the whole thing on video, though, if you wanna see?”
“That’s quite all right.” Nolan looked decidedly green himself.
“I’m on the way.” I slipped back into the only role I knew, a small-island single dad. Nolan might be destined for the big time, but I was meant to stay a solo act, and that was simply how things were.
Twenty-Five
Welcome back, ohana! We’d like to issue a warm aloha to Mr. Bell, who is joining us again this term! He’ll be in charge of the spring concert, and we’re so pleased to see his smiling face every day.
NOLAN
Merrick Winters was the most stubborn man on the planet. In the days since New Year’s Eve, he’d dodged my calls and seemed to think that if he stuck his head in the sand, he could pretend I hadn’t said I was staying. As if I might forget if he played ostrich long enough.
Nope, I’d called Principal Alana at a reasonable hour on New Year’s Day and signed up for another five and a half months in paradise. Merry be damned. He was so certain I wouldn’t stay, couldn’t stick it out, and I was utterly determined to show him otherwise.
However, the first day back at school dawned chilly and rainy. The girls fought on the whole walk to school, which made us late. I’d packed an extra thermos of coffee as a peace offering, but Merry already had a line of kids vying for his attention in his classroom. My classroom had sprung a roof leak during the break, so I now had a large bucket and the plink-plonk of raindrops to contend with.
As if that weren’t bad enough, all the schedules had changed with the start of the new semester, and chaos reigned in the halls as students and faculty alike had little clue where to be and when. Further, my classes were filled with cranky, over-sugared, under-slept students.
“I don’t want to sing that.” Kaitlyn seemed determined to start this term as we’d finished the last, despite her mother’s generous fancy restaurant gift card. A gift I couldn’t wait to use with Merry, and thinking of him made me even more irritable.
“I’ll open a suggestion box for new material tomorrow.” I waved a hand. “But for now, everyone up—”
“Why do we have to stand?” Liam K. had a brand-new shirt proclaiming him a Gamer 4 Life and bags under his eyes that suggested he’d spent all break nuking zombies. “I’m tired.”
“Have you tried a reasonable bedtime?” I snapped, then took a deep breath. Great teaching moment that wasn’t. I went to the basket of snacks I kept near the door. “Sorry. How about a juice pouch?”
“Um, Mr. Bell?” Kelvin, another eighth grader obsessed with gaming, had a newly squeaky voice. “I don’t think I’m an alto anymore?”
“Mr. Bell, I don’t feel so good.” Suddenly, Kaitlyn went from pissy to ill, undoubtedly the same stomach virus that had claimed Ryder and several of the guests at the New Year’s Eve party.
Speaking of Ryder, he and Legend were back for sixth grade choir class, and someone had the brilliant idea to gift Legend a laser pointer that did nifty tricks like projecting paw prints or big X marks. He, of course, had to try out all the features on my backside.
“A laser pointer? I’m disappointed. The year two thousand called and would like its tricks back.” I shook my head and motioned at his bag. “Also, you could harm someone’s vision. Put it away, please, or I’ll have to confiscate it.”
After class, though, it was Ryder, not Legend, who came up to me all apologetic and unusually solemn-faced.
“Nol—Mr. Bell, are you mad I got sick?” he asked in a low voice.
“Mad? Of course not.” I’d had a few private thoughts about the awful timing, but that wasn’t the poor kid’s fault. And if his father had used the brief illness as a reason not to see me, well, that was between the stubborn surfer and me.