He was quiet for a moment. “I know, Iris, and I wouldn’t blame you. I never would have deliberately hurt you in the first place. I sure won’t in the second place.”

“Good. Be careful, then.”

“I promise.”

“No monkey business,” she said, taking a big mouthful of ice cream.

“We’ll just go to dinner one night. Not in Thunder Point,” he suggested.

“No,” she said. “That would be monkey business.”

“No, it would be dinner,” he said. “You had dinner with Troy. A friendly, non-romantic dinner...”

“Troy is different.”

“Troy can give you gifts but I can’t?”

“That’s right, you know why? Because Troy didn’t steal my virginity and break my heart and Troy is a colleague and friend. We have an adult relationship.”

“Troy loves you,” Seth said.

“Now you’re being ridiculous,” she said. “I have an understanding with Troy.”

“Oh?” he asked. “Friends with benefits?”

“Ack,” she said, punching him in the arm. “I don’t have benefits with anyone!”

He rubbed his arm. “That’s encouraging,” he said. “What is it about me that makes you want to hit me?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m not like this with anyone else. I think when I’m around you I regress to my eight-year-old self.”

“Try to get a handle on that, will you? You’re stronger than you look.”

“I could’ve helped you tonight, you know,” she said, grinning suddenly. “I could’ve taken one of the men and held him while you managed the other one. We did it back in the day. Playground justice—we stood up for each other.”

“We were really young then, Iris. I don’t want you to defend my honor anymore. And I’d like you to stop slugging me!”

“You were so scrappy, but I could take you,” she said. “It’s good that you gave Keith Urban his haircut back, though.”

“Do you really want to bring up the subject of hair, Miss Brillo?”

“Now see, I could be damaged for life from careless comments like that!” But she laughed very happily. “You really did look like a wild child. Some throwback rescued from a jungle or something with your long golden hair when everyone else had buzz cuts...”

“My mother loved my hair,” he said. “By the way, you can’t take me anymore so stop slugging me!”

“You did good tonight, Seth. I watched from the dining room.”

“Watched me take one in the face?” he asked.

“It was just an elbow,” she said. “Kind of an accident. You managed very well. It was impressive, actually. I think you actually grew after high school. How tall are you, anyway?”

He stared at her. “Six-one and six-two, depending which leg I’m standing on,” he said, raising a tawny brow.

And she melted into laughter.

They sat in the parking lot and laughed like fools. The ice cream was long gone or long melted when Iris took him back to his truck parked in front of the clinic.

* * *

On Saturday Grace was busy with weddings so Iris didn’t even have time to report in that the Friday night confrontation had been beyond interesting. Then Seth called on Sunday morning. He had a most charming lisp that left her struggling not to laugh. “Can we try dinner pleath? Maybe out of town where no one knowth uth? Like Cooth Bay?”

She held her hand over her mouth for a moment. “How is your lip?” she managed to croak out.

“Ith fat. What about dinner?”

“Sure. In a couple of weeks. I’m not going to make this real easy for you, Seth. I’m pretty wary.”

“I gueth I don’t blame you.”

She crumbled into hysterical laughter. In fact, every time she thought about him all weekend she smiled. Sometimes she just laughed out loud. From the grumpy way he insisted on eating even though he was bleeding on his bread, to his fear of needles to finally saying a nice good-night after ice cream—it all reminded her how much she had missed his company. But she was determined to guard her heart. He’d ripped it out once, she wasn’t going to help him do it again.

But she was still smiling on Monday morning even though it was chilly and wet with a steady drizzle under gray clouds. She wouldn’t be riding her bike to school many more days this year. It was definitely a driving day.

She stood in the hallway outside her office doorway, smiling and saying good morning to the kids. This was where she felt at home; this was where she knew she belonged.

Rachel Delaney walked by and said good morning. She had a fat lip, too. Not unlike Seth’s, except she was fortunate enough not to have stitches.

Iris snagged Rachel’s sweater. “Hey, how’s it going?” she asked.

Rachel smiled a lopsided smile, her hand going self-consciously to her mouth. “It’s all good, Miss McKinley.”

“Got a boo-boo?” Iris asked, looking at her lip.

Rachel chuckled. “Blame Cammie. We were working on a few cheers and moves over the weekend and I took a knee to the face. Pretty gross, huh? I guess it could’a been worse. She could’a broken my nose!”

“I hope that particular move is out of the routine now,” Iris said.

“I think we can get it,” Rachel said. “But I think I’ll be the jumper and not the catcher next time.” She tried her smile again.

Brett Davis sauntered toward Rachel, his eyes all sleepy and sexy. He came up behind her and slipped his arm through hers. “Morning, Miss McKinley.”

“How’s it going, Brett?” she asked. Unless she’d missed some breaking news, Brett was the big man on campus. He was a popular football player in a town where football was king. He was a year older than Rachel. They looked so perfect together, a regular Barbie and Ken, but they were sexy. Iris knew all about this yet would never get used to it, these children filled with heat and pheromones.

“Good, good. We killed Franklin High in Bandon Friday night,” Brett said.

“I heard. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, it was awesome.”

Then he led his girlfriend away down the hall, affectionately nuzzling her temple, slipping his arm around her waist. He was very like Seth had been—polite, good-looking, attentive. As far as Iris could see from her close watch on the academics of the team, he was also a good student. She wondered if Rachel helped him with his homework the way Iris had helped Seth.

Rachel seemed very good-natured and kind, and Iris had been watching. Her mother, Sassy, had been conceited and superior, dismissive of girls she deemed lesser and only interested in having a large collection of boys. Rachel hadn’t seemed to inherit that—points to Sassy for raising her well.

Iris stood in the hall until the bell rang. Then she tackled her desk. Each year in the fall, seniors were looking at colleges, at scholarships—sports and academic and those based on financial assistance—while Iris was scheduling testing. The sophomores and juniors were taking their first stab at SATs while seniors who hadn’t done well were trying one last time. She had prep classes scheduled. She was meeting with students in large groups to take aptitude quizzes to help them decide on a study path. There were college applications and selection for seniors. Besides graduation, this was the busiest time of year.