The Homecoming Page 30


“Send her to me,” Iris said. “Tell her I want to discuss the SAT with her. In the meantime, I’ll pull up her transcript. And we’ll go from there.”

“Will you tell me what you find?” he asked.

She smiled at him. “Maybe. It depends.”

“Wanna grab a beer after work?” he asked.

“Jeez, it’s only Monday!”

“I’m not working at Cooper’s tonight. I don’t have many of those nights.”

“Okay then. Where? The beach?”

“Nah, it’s too cold and wet to sit on the deck. Let’s meet at Cliff’s.”

She’d been putting in a lot of time at Cliffhanger’s lately. “You’re on. Five?”

“Four-thirty, c’mon. I’m going to be so ready to be out of here by four, but I can hang out and clean chalkboards for a little while.”

“All right,” she said with a laugh. “See you there.”

And he was gone.

In a little town like Thunder Point, great teachers were hard to come by. The pay was on the low side because the budget was small and the town didn’t offer much beyond rugged coastline and quiet neighbors. And yet, they had some excellent, dedicated educators. Troy was one of the best. He’d taught junior high math for a couple of years in a private school, but he was a history major and had taken the Thunder Point job a couple of years ago. For a young guy, he was pretty worldly and seemed to know all the tricks and signs with the high school kids. He was devoted to them; he never missed a thing. When they were talking about the students, they were completely in tune.

Why couldn’t she love him? It would be so much less complicated. She was quite sure Seth was right—Troy loved her. He could be an excellent partner given a little encouragement.

But, curse the luck, she was still stuck on the guy who broke her heart years ago.

Eight

Misty Morning Rosario was a very small, thin, flat-chested fifteen-year-old. Unsmiling, as she was at the moment, she wasn’t very pretty. Iris had to concentrate to keep herself from making assumptions about what her issues might be.

“I bet everyone asks you about your name,” Iris said.

“Am I in trouble?” Misty asked.

“Oh, gosh, no. Not at all. Are you worried about something?”

Misty just shook her head. When Iris held silent for a minute, Misty finally answered, “It’s supposed to be Misty M. on my school paperwork. My parents, they were kind of hippies or something and I was born on—guess what? A misty morning. Could you think of anything more lame?”

“Well, my mother was a florist and named me Iris. I think I’ve finally made peace with it but growing up, I hated it. You know what really surprised me? Even girls who had regular names confessed to hating them! I think every twelve-or thirteen-year-old girl has fantasies about changing her name.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Even the girls named Kate and Mary and Sue,” Iris said. “How long have you lived in Thunder Point, Misty?”

“Two years, I guess. Since the start of eighth grade.”

“You’ve had such good grades. Are you the oldest child in your family?”

She nodded. “I have a little brother. His grades aren’t as good because he’s a screw-off.”

Iris laughed and could see Misty beginning to relax. “Did you know that most firstborn children are the most accomplished, especially academically? They show the most leadership skills, which I guess should be obvious.” They talked for a while about the deli Misty’s parents owned and operated in Bandon. It was bigger than Carrie’s deli and had tables for diners. Misty helped out on the weekends. Her dad was Portuguese and a lot of their deli items were his family recipes. They talked about everything Iris could think of—dogs, grandparents, babysitting.

“I was asking Mr. Headly about you earlier today. He mentioned that your grades are so good that he suggested taking the SAT this year and you...”

Misty’s eyes went downcast. She shrugged and clutched her hands in her lap.

“What is it, Misty? What worries you? You’re bound to do well. And depending on your score, you could retake it next year after a prep course and really kill it. Or, if the results are excellent, you could let it stand.”

She just shrugged again.

“Let’s talk about college, Misty. Are you worried about the cost? About leaving home? About college studies being harder?”

“I’m just not very interested in college,” she said softly.

“I’m so surprised. But that’s not a decision you have to make now. In fact, you don’t even have to decide next year. More to the point, since college isn’t required, you can decide at any point that it’s not right for you. But it makes sense to be prepared in case you decide to give it a try.”

“It doesn’t feel right now,” she said.

“It probably seems a long way off,” Iris said. “Misty, will you look at me?” Iris asked gently.

Misty lifted her eyes and Iris was not surprised to see she was near tears. Oh, Troy was right. Something was wrong. “What’s bothering you, honey?” Iris asked. “You can say anything in this office and it will go no further.”

“Not even to Mr. Headly?” she asked softly.

“Especially not Mr. Headly,” she said. “Just you and me.”

“You won’t get it,” Misty said.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been a counselor for a while now. There isn’t much I haven’t heard. Plus, I bet I had some of the same worries when I was your age.”

The girl hesitated a long moment, contemplating by chewing on her lower lip. And then she spoke. “I’ll just be alone,” she whispered. “Why should I go away to a big school just to be alone?”

Iris was completely surprised by this. “Why would you be alone?”

Yet another self-conscious shrug. “I won’t have any friends.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Iris asked.

“You ever had a best friend?” Misty asked.

Iris nodded. “Sure.”

“You ever have a best friend drop you?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I have. It’s very painful. Is that what happened, Misty?”

She nodded and her eyes filled with tears. It was a miracle they weren’t flooding over. “My best friend since eighth grade got a better friend. And they don’t like me.”

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