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“Running into one of your students?”
“To be honest, I’m surprised I haven’t seen more of them today.” She twirled her finger around in the air. “Small town and all.”
Yeah, after the places he’d been since enlisting in the Army at twenty, Chace had kind of forgotten that aspect of Hickory Ridge. “Is it weird?”
“Not really. But I get along pretty well with most of my students.” She blew on her hot chocolate before taking a tentative sip. “Now, the parents sometimes are a different story, especially when they want to discuss their child’s performance in a public place.”
“They actually do that?” He popped the last of his second hot dog into his mouth.
“There’ve been a few.” She ran her index finger around the rim of her paper cup. “I try to be as polite as possible and ask that they contact me at school.”
“Does it work?”
“It has so far. Besides, the parents with the most concerns aren’t the ones with struggling students.”
“Then what’s their beef?”
“Overall grade point average mainly.”
He licked ketchup off his thumb. “Why?”
“Class rankings, sports eligibility, college acceptance, and scholarships are probably the top four.”
Since his plan had always been to join the military, all he needed to maintain was a 2.0 to play sports. None of the rest concerned him. Not that he just did enough to get by. No, despite being a jock and some of the antics he managed to engage in, Chace did well in school, graduating with a 3.90 GPA.
Would have had a 4.0 if he’d done better in freshman English, but some of the shit his teacher required them to read and then write about in the first semester held absolutely no interest for him whatsoever. So, he did what most of his friends did—he half-assed it.
Until the second term when Mrs. Snyder assigned Mary Shelley’sFrankenstein.
“What are you thinking about?” Holly interrupted his thoughts.
He looked at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Sure you want to know?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Frankenstein.”
Holly wrinkled her nose as if she could actually smell her distaste for the classic thriller. “Why?”
“First, because it was about the only book I enjoyed reading in freshman English.” Chace leaned close enough to count the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “And second, because we read it together two years later when you were a freshman and were afraid you’d have nightmares.”
“Which I did.”
“Do you make your students read it?”
Holly shook her head. “I only teach sophomores and seniors.”
“No scary books required in those grades?”
“Not in general, no. Besides, I’m older now and no longer that impressionable teenager.”
“I see.” His gaze held hers. “Are you wiser too?”
“Sometimes,” she murmured, scooting her chair back.
“The cookie decorating contest will begin in thirty minutes at Sugar Rush. All interested participants should make their way to the bakery now,” a male voice interrupted “The Hanukkah Song” to announce through the speaker system.
“Can we?” Wren jumped up from her seat.
