Tags:
Fiction,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Adult,
Romantic Comedy,
Dreams,
best friends,
small town,
Bachelor,
Surrender,
Mistaken Identity,
Community,
Ohio,
quirky,
little sister,
Forever Love,
Single Woman,
Captivated,
Challenges,
Family Tradition,
Spinning Hills,
Town History,
Amador Brothers,
Hammer & Nails,
Renovating Houses,
Line Streets,
Old-Fashion Town,
Settling Down,
Houseful Of Love,
Fixer-Upper,
Masquerade Parties,
Mystery Woman,
Sexy Charmer
Winning.
He and Marissa were called upon to settle arguments, help with spelling and punctuation, and approve dialogue and lyrics. It was exhausting, and the kids began to get antsy. They begged Johnny and Marissa to try out some of their choreography. They both agreed, knowing it would energize the tired kids, and they threw themselves into it, their efforts to outdo each other making the kids laugh.
Marissa won by a landslide. She was a great dancer. But Johnny went all out. His antics soon had Marissa laughing so hard, she was wiping tears from her eyes. He also tried to teach the kids a few moves, too. He did the running man, the robot, and the moonwalk.
“Mr. A can’t dance,” one of the kids declared before she collapsed into giggles.
“Has your boyfriend got good moves?” Javier asked Marissa, while gesturing to a framed picture of Brian on Marissa’s desk.
Marissa nodded. “He’s a great dancer.”
It was the only crappy moment in an otherwise great morning. Johnny looked at the clock. It was time to vote on names for the rival dance crews.
“Strikers, Hackers, and Longboards,” Johnny read out loud.
“Only three names made the list?” Marissa looked around, eyes wide, mouth open.
The kids respected her enough at that point to look suitably chagrined. They quickly voted on Strikers and Hackers, and broke for lunch.
Johnny stayed behind a moment, helping Marissa straighten out the classroom. “Thanks for letting me participate,” he said. “That was a lot of fun.” And it had gotten their professional relationship off to a good start, he thought, feeling relieved. But Marissa’s brow was furrowed and she looked distracted. “Eightball didn’t make the cut?” she asked.
Johnny shook his head. “It’s an eighth of an ounce. Like of cocaine, heroin, or meth.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot. What about black mollies?”
“Amphetamines.”
Her eyes widened even more. “Surely stiletto was okay, though?”
“It’s a knife used specifically for thrusting or stabbing.”
“I know, but it’s more commonly known as a high heel. We have fashion-conscious girls in the class. Maybe that’s what they meant.”
“Isaac suggested it.” Johnny chuckled. “I hardly think he wanted his dance crew to be named after six-inch heels.” Isaac had been the kid to high-five Javier when he’d called Marissa hot.
“Okay, then.” She folded her arms, looking determined. “What did you think was wrong with Bones? It’s tough, like skull and bones. It would make a great gang name.” Johnny whispered the double entendre into her ear. Her face burst into flames. “I know that! But Veronica suggested that one. She’s only thirteen and barely knows English. I don’t think that’s what she meant.”
“You’re probably right.” Johnny said, though he knew she was wrong. He’d seen the look in Veronica’s eyes when she’d suggested it, but he wasn’t too worried about it. There was more of an innocent, mischievous gleam in her eye than a knowing one, as if she’d been trying to one-up the other kids. “I just thought it would be better if we kept anything that could be misinterpreted out.”
“Oh. Well. That’s true. Good call,” she said, before walking to her desk to gather her things. “I need to run the draft of this first scene over to Amy so her kids can get started on set design,” she mumbled. He could tell by her stilted movements that she was still worried about how much the kids knew about drugs, weapons, and sex. He found himself longing to kiss the little wrinkle between her eyebrows, hug her tight, and tell her not to fret. She was such a good teacher. Fun and caring.
“Hey,” he called and she looked up. “It’s day one, and you’re already making a difference in these kids’ lives, Marissa.”
Her eyes softened and she clutched the script to her chest. “You really think so?”
“I really do. Just try not to get so caught up in trying to make that difference
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