Page 50 of The Do-Over Girl

KALI

COLD WAR OR SIZZLING TRUCE?

Nikki knocks on the doorframe of my classroom, and I’m sadly and pathetically disappointed that it’s her and not Nash as she comes in. Nash continues to ghost me, though, in fairness, I’ve been ghosting him. I may have started it this time, making myself scarce over the weekend.

I put aside the papers I’ve been trying to read.

“Am I interrupting anything important?” Nikki sits in the chair next to my desk—the one for recalcitrant students, turning it to face me like it’s a guest chair.

“Not really. My concentration is shit.”

“Woe, such strong language from Miss Prissy Pants.”

I laugh at the resurrection of an old nickname she had for me from junior high—before my sass blossomed into what it is today. I give her my best arched-brow look, somehow channeling Charline Pike in my head.

“Boy trouble? This is fun. Just like high school—when we were the students instead of the less than fun adults in charge.”

I hate to admit to her, yet again, that she’s right, that I’m letting Nash get to me. So, I put a positive spin on it, like I frequently do, ignoring the warning sign of my tightening chest. “No. It’s just…I have a lot going on between classes, the cheering squad, and most importantly, our project.”

“Speaking of your cheering squad—you know how you have the cheerleaders working on a social media blitz?”

“It’s going really well. They’re up over a hundred thousand followers on TikTok now. #SaveAPA is a trending hashtag on IG, too.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Nikki waves her hand. “Did you know Mia started a GoFundMe campaign for the school? I know her heart’s in the right place, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“I’m sorry—I told her it couldn’t be affiliated with the school.”

“It’s not—technically. It’s Mia’s personal page. Along with a group of her cohorts, she’s told the story of APA and the town and makes her pitch as a new student who’s found a home here, how wonderful it is, and that she’d hate to see other kids in town miss out. It’s really very endearing. She spins a good story, and it looks like a lot of people agree.”

“Get to the point, Nikki.”

“She’s up to over a hundred clams in donations.”

I blow out a whistle—something I didn’t even realize I was capable of doing. “That’s amazing. I haven’t seen her page, though I’ve heard some of the kids talking about it and giggling.”

“That’s the other reason why I wanted to talk to you about it—the giggle factor. The video features Mia with none other than APA hockey star and heartthrob Dylan Zappola and a few other kids. It’s clear they’re a couple, and there’s some innuendo—”

“Oh no—I’m surprised Mia would go there.”

“No, not that kind of innuendo—they’re not using sex to sell the cause if that’s what you’re thinking.”

My brow automatically scrunches because it’s not like Nikki to beat around the bush.

“Spill it, Nikki.” Sometimes, I think my school teacher persona comes too naturally, like right now, as I stare her down like she is a recalcitrant student.

“You should watch it for yourself, but in short, there are some veiled comments about Mia and Dylan being the shadow couple for a certain couple on staff, the original Golden Couple. Then they go on about the school's legacy and how it would be a shame if it were all lost.”

“Golden Couple?” Though I’ve been calm until now, my nerves kick in at this news.

Just as Nikki is about to explain—or I hope she is—my phone rings, and I check it.

“Unknown caller, but I better take it. I’ve been sending my number out to a lot of alumni, and I’m starting to get some calls back.”

Nikki nods and flicks her hand to give me permission. I calm down and smile. I think she enjoys being my boss.

“Kali Austin,” I say.

“This is Jeb Petrucci with New England Sports Channel—more importantly, Kali, I’m an APA alum, and I got your letters and emails. Very persistent campaign you have going.”