Her cheeks turned pink. “You know that yoga retreat I booked at Camp Rockbrook for this summer?”
I grabbed a slice of pizza and stuffed a bite into my mouth, nodding enthusiastically instead of answering. For the last few months, Joey had consumed my thoughts. I’d been a horrible friend.
“They double-booked the dates with a triathlon club.” Kennedy’s shoulders slumped. “This was going to be the first retreat in North Carolina, and I was dying to show everyone what we have to offer. Now it’s ruined. Stupid triathletes.”
“Maybe you can work something out,” I said. “Maybe you can split the time or share the facilities.”
“I’m not sharing my time with a bunch of uptight triathletes.”
“I’m surprised at you,” I said. “You’re the one telling me not to put people in boxes.”
“Yeah,” said Sloane. “Maybe these triathletes are super chill. Lacey’s friend Xan is nice.”
“The one who put the roofie in her drink?” Mia asked. “I still want to nail that guy to a wall.”
“What?” Kennedy looked horrified.
“That’s not what happened,” I said, wishing Lacey were here to set everything straight. “Xan is a good guy.”
Kennedy gulped her beer. “If he’s a triathlete, I doubt it.”
I laid my hand on her shoulder. “You should contact him and see if he knows the people who booked the Camp Rockbrook. Maybe he can help. Lacey will give you his number.”
“Gabi, I don’t expect you to fix my problems. I just wanted to drown my sorrows with some friends.”
“Cheers,” said Sloane, raising her glass of wine.
We all tapped glasses. I wished figuring out what to do about my feelings for Joey was as easy as sharing space with uptight triathletes.
The next morning, I still hadn’t heard from Joey. He hadn’t even texted to tell me he was back in the country. I’d hardly slept the night before, wondering and worrying about him.
I’d gotten used to seeing him, and I’d missed him so much over the last few days.
Guilt pricked my conscience as I strode down the silent halls of PES. I hadn’t missed a man since Montel. My heart squeezed at the betrayal. I’d held on to Montel with clenched fingers for so long. It felt like losing him all over again to admit I wanted the love of another man.
“Ask Mr. Morales to come to my office first thing after announcements,” I told Mr. Collins, who’d beaten me to the office even though I was forty-five minutes early.
“Oh!” he said, jumping to his feet with a guilty expression. “Haven’t you read your emails?”
I hung my coat on the rack and glared at Mr. Collins over my shoulder. “Of course I’ve read my emails.”
Well, maybe that was a white lie. I hadn’t readallmy emails. I’d skimmed the important ones and was waiting until I was officially back on the job to give them a thorough reading.
Mr. Collins cleared his throat. “Maybe you should read your emails,” he said.
I went into my office and sat behind my desk. I fired up my computer and logged into my email account. I skimmed my inbox, noting a correspondence from Chelsea Taylor that made me roll my eyes as well as an email from the superintendent regarding end-of-grade testing results.
My shoulders inched up to my ears when I saw the email from Morales, Fernando, with the subject line: Resignation.
With trembling fingers, I clicked on the email.
It has been my pleasure.Blah, blah, blah.Sorry to leave this wonderful school. Another opportunity has come along.
He’s quitting? I checked the date on the email. Two days ago. Correction—he’d quit. Right after we’d finished our conversation. He’d sent this from Costa Rica.
My vision doubled as I read the email again and again, until my eyes strained, and then I leaned across my desk and pressed the intercom for Mr. Collins.
“Yes?” he answered.
