Page 9 of The Trouble with Flings

She laughs, and damn, I love that sound. “That’s hilarious, but you’re telling me that your wild teenage rebellion was crowd control and risk management?”

“That counts,” I say, chuckling with her.

“You really are a Boy Scout,” she teases.

“I guess I should have told you about the time I hooked up with an older woman the summer before my freshman year of college, and she turned out to be one of my professors.”

“What?” Her eyes bloom wide. “Seriously?”

“I got an A in the course,” I say proudly. “But you wanted examples outside the bedroom.” I lift my glass in her direction. “Your turn, wild girl.”

“Mine is not as good as that one. I was a bit of a disaster in high school.” She takes a drink. “By my junior year, Jace had moved out and Mia had left for college. Jayla was all about skiing and sports, and Jared is a few years younger than me, so I have no idea what he was up to. I was bored all the time, at home and in school, which left me irritated and restless. I skipped school way too much and basically did everything except what I was supposed to be doing. I almost lost credit junior year.”

“You really did rebel. How’d you save yourself?”

“I didn’t. The principal, Mrs. Kanton, did. She called me into her office to talk some sense into me and told me if I didn’t straighten up, I was going to have to repeat the year, and I’d end up watching my friends graduate and spending the rest of my life trying to recover from my poor choices.”

“And that was enough to get you to step into line?” Somehow I can’t see that.

“Hardly. I was belligerent. I told her she didn’t know anything and that I was going to take her job one day.”

It’s easy to imagine the strong woman across from me as an arrogant teen, giving a seasoned principal hell, but it’s so different from something I would have done at that age, I raise my brows. “You said that to your principal?”

“I sure did,” she says, completely unrepentant. “I was a real pleasure.”

“You had more guts than half the kids I knew back then. What did she say?”

“She said based on my current behavior and track record, she didn’t think that was possible, and I told her that she had no idea what I was capable of. Only I probably had fangs when I said it.”

“Damn. How’d she react?”

“She looked me right in the eye and said, ‘Prove it.’” Jennifer sits back with her wineglass, and her expression shifts to something more thoughtful.

“She challenged you.”

“That she did. She figured out what made me tick, and I spent the next several years working my butt off to prove her wrong. I’d stop by her office to show off an A on a paper, and she’d say something like, Nice job, but anyone can get a few good grades. Keeping it up takes dedication. I’m not sure you have that. She pushed all my buttons, but when she retired a few years ago, I took her job, and you know what she said to me?” The pride in her eyes is inescapable.

“What?”

“She said she never doubted me for a second, but all those years, she never gave an inch. Even when I completed my master’s, she said, ‘That’s great, but I’ve still got my job.’”

“It sounds like she knew exactly what you needed to stay focused.”

“I know she did. I think almost failing made me a better teacher, because I know what it feels like to be a floundering kid from a great family, and that helped me to understand how much harder it is for kids who have no one in their corner.”

She takes a drink and says, “And I’m a better principal because she cared enough not to suspend me and to keep up that ruse for all those years in an effort to keep me focused on the prize. That’s who I always want to be for my students. The one who cares enough to figure out how to get through to them.”

I wonder if she knows how much more beautiful that makes her. “The world needs more people like you.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m a hard-ass,” she says.

“That’s one of the things that makes you so striking. You’re a tough city girl with a gracious heart who’s not afraid to use it for her students but guards it at all costs for herself.”

I watch her reluctantly accept the compliment, turning away to gaze out at the water, moonlight catching in her eyes. That’s when it hits me. I want to know every little thing about her.

Chapter Three

Jennifer