Page 38 of Fall Fake-Out

I push off him, scrambling backward so fast the blanket nearly takes me out a second time. Wade grabs my wrist before I roll backward down the bleachers like a bowling ball.

Unfortunately, that only makes things worse.

Because now it looks like Wade is pulling me back into his lap.

The students cheer, feet stomping against the bleachers as they chant, “Stevie! Stevie!”

I push off him again, and it’s a tangle of arms and swinging legs as I try to remove myself from our inappropriate spider position.

“I need to move away. Tonight. Maybe Canada.”

Beside me, Wade stares toward the sidelines with a gloating smile. “Ashtyn definitely saw that.”

Sure enough, Ashtyn stands frozen near the track, pompoms limp at her sides, looking like she wants to set me on fire.

Wade slowly looks back at me. And the idiot—the absolute idiot—grins.

“No, no, no,” I string the words together into one quick protest.

“What?” he asks innocently. “At least the bees left you alone.”

“That face means you’re enjoying this.”

His smile widens as his eyes flick meaningfully toward the crowd of students holding their phones up at us. “I think we just went Instagram official.”

Wade

My phone buzzes for the fourteenth time today. This text is from my sister.

Sadie

Explain.

Attached is an Instagram reel of Ari in my lap, my hands on her waist, her hair falling everywhere, while both of us look one second away from making out in public.

I watch the video again, even though I’ve already seen and been tagged in dozens of posts like this since the fiasco happened last night. Honestly, the videos make the whole thing look worse than I remember.

The comments underneath aren’t helping either.

STEVIE GOT A GIRLFRIEND???

MISS LANGFORD IS SO REAL FOR THIS

NOT THE PRINCIPAL PULLING TEACHERS

One of the football players even commented: TENSION CRAZIER THAN THE GAME

I should probably be horrified. None of this helps my case that I’m a respectable principal who deserves his job.

Instead, I grin.

Which honestly says a lot about the state of my mental health. It’s either jail time for inappropriate principal-student relationships or gossip about inappropriate sitting positions in the bleachers.

I’ll take the town gossip every single time.

“Are you gonna fish or look at your phone all day?” Jaxon asks beside me as he casts his line.

“Sorry. I got a lot going on.” I shove my phone into the pocket on my fishing vest and refocus on the sport I love so much.