I’m giving myself a pep talk as I head to the administrative office to drop off the copies when a student charges around the corner and plows into me, leaving me on the floor and sending my neat stack of paper all over the hall.
“Oh, shit. Sorry, sorry.” But then the little turd runs off without bothering to lend me a hand.
And I always thought I’d enjoy working in a high school.
My day gets better when I knock on Mr. Barstow’s door a few minutes later and enter to find Miranda, Rider’s favorite hookup, sitting on the credenza.
She’s ultra-blonde with blindingly white teeth that stand out against her inordinately tan skin. But commercial enhancements notwithstanding, she’s gorgeous. So attractive, in fact, it makes me reconsider why I questioned Rider’s standards. Because the women he sleeps with are stunningly beautiful, and I’m not arrogant enough to put myself in that category.
No, I don’t have some weird self-confidence issue. I mean, yes, I’m sensitive about the foster kid thing, but that’s why I try not to think about it. And I’m in touch with my strengths, but blonde bombshell is not one of them. I’m nerd-tastic and proud. Girl-next-door with a side vibe of stern librarian. I’d rather read a book than hit up a kegger. I’m cool with all of that.
However, I’m also a firm believer in not burying my head in the sand, so I get why this girl is in Rider’s bangable category and I’m not. This is a good reminder that Rider is in a different league.
Obviously,thisis why he never tried to sleep with me.
Judging by her wide eyes, she’s just as surprised to see me as I am to see her.
We’ve never officially met, but I’m pretty sure Rider ditched me to fool around with her freshman year.
I clear my throat. “H-hi, I’m looking for Mr. Barstow. I have his copies.”
Without taking her attention off me, she yells, “Daddy!”
I flinch. Then realize what she said and hang my head.
Awesome. Just what I need. To work for her freaking father.
The assistant principal enters from the adjoining office. “Miranda, I told you not to do that.” When he sees me, he points to my desk. “Drop them off there. Thanks.”
Well, at least I got a thank you this time.
He leaves just as quickly, and then I’m left with Miranda, who is looking me up and down. I mentally catalogue what I’m wearing and internally cringe when I think about how I used a black sharpie to fill in the scratches on my shoes. A neat trick I picked up fromPretty Woman. Thank you, Julia Roberts. But based on the way Miranda is eyeballing them, I wonder if she can tell.
“You’re bleeding.” She points to my legs where blood trickles down my knee.
Oh.I look down and sigh.
“It’s nothing. Some kid ran into me.”
She makes a face. “You need to clean it up before my father notices and freaks out. Anything dealing with ‘bodily fluids’ requires a report.”
I nod, remembering something about that from the stack of paperwork I filled out when I was hired.
Her phone pings, and I’m hoping to use that distraction to get back to the copy room when she holds up one finger.
Why does she want me to wait?
She finishes her text and pins me with a long stare. “You look familiar. How do I know you?”
Of course she has no idea who I am while I’ll never forget who she is to Rider.
“I’m not sure,” I say slowly, deciding to leave Rider out of this equation. I’m never in favor of raising high-drama topics while at work. “Maybe we passed each other on campus?”
“Hmm.” Something about the way her eyes narrow makes me nervous.
After an awkward moment, I motion to the hallway. “Well, I have to get back to work, so—”
Before I can finish, the door opens behind me and a huge smile spreads on Miranda’s face, and she squeals, “Baby, I’m so glad you could pick me up!”
