The Game Changer - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Writing these two, no matter what is going on in the world or around me? Immaculate. A blast.

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---------- The Game Changer -----------

Chapter Three

With the mountain of proposals and missives in her inbox having been mostly sorted, Abbie leaned back in her chair, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.

Before she snapped them open, checking the time.

Okay, she supposed the one good thing about having been inundated with emails was what an effective distraction they’d been.

But it was officially 2:13, which meant her mom should be out of her follow-up appointment.

With that in mind, she snatched up her phone.

And frowned upon seeing that there were no missed texts, her stomach sinking nervously. Was that… bad? Did that mean they hadn’t wanted to share the news they’d gotten via text? Did it mean the appointment was going so late because they were getting unfavorable news?!

She clenched her free hand tightly, trying to stem any of the nervous trembling, as she quickly dialed Caroline’s number.

They were both together – Caroline had taken the entire day off to go with her mom to her appointment, so they’d both be there, no matter who she technically called.

But in her very bones, she knew that Caroline would be the best bet to answer and give it to her straight, no matter what the news was. Caroline had always been that way, even when Abbie had been a child. And Abbie got it; she was her mom’s baby. Her mom wanted to shield her from every bad thing in the world, even now that she was solidly an adult.

She got it, but she didn’t want it.

Caroline answered on the second ring. “Thirteen minutes after the appointment was scheduled to end – honestly, Abbacado, I’m a little shocked it took you this long.”

The teasing note in her tone was gentle, but definitely present, and Abbie felt tentatively relieved. Enough that her hand stopped shaking. Because if they’d gotten bad news, there would be no levity in Caroline’s voice.

“Yeah, well, I’m a little shocked – and disappointed – you didn’t call me immediately,” she shot back, her lips tugging into a frown.

“Abbie, honey, you’re at work,” her mom’s voice edged in, exasperation clear in her tone. “And we are fortunate enough to have you living back at home; we’re going to see you in a few hours.”

“The school year hasn’t even started yet, first of all. Second of all, work, schmirk. What did the doctor say?” She pressed.

She couldn’t even believe she had to say work, schmirk; she thought it was pretty obvious where her priorities were after walking away from her career to be here.

“She re-affirmed the report from the surgeon after last week’s appointment,” Caroline stated, and the relief in her voice, even over the phone, was evident.

“The tumor is completely removed, the biopsies from my lymph nodes are clear,” her mom added. Abbie appreciated it, even though she’d memorized every work the surgeon had said at last week’s follow-up.

But that had been with the surgeon, not the oncologist her mom would continue to see, now.

“I’m going to have a short course of radiation, starting Monday, and then I’ll start taking the hormone pill. But everything is looking very positive,” her mom promised.

And Abbie could tell she was being honest, just by the tone she used. It wasn’t the voice she had when she was trying to hide something.

The relief coursed through her even stronger, making her melt into her chair. “Okay. Okay, good.”

“And – for the record – we were going to call you,” Caroline said, “Once we got home. We’re still in the car.”

She rolled her eyes despite the fact that they couldn’t see it. “That’s that Bluetooth is for.”

They both chuckled, and she loved that she knew they’d both just locked eyes and rolled them right back at her, despite her not being able to see it.

“Anyway,” her mom cleared her throat, “Have you accepted that position on the Board of Trustees, yet?”

That horrible feeling she’d had in her stomach about her mom’s appointment was now replaced by a different churning sensation. Preferable, of course, to what she’d been feeling earlier when it came to her mom’s health.

But far from ideal.

“No,” she haltingly informed them, worrying at her bottom lip. “I’m still on the fence.”

She shouldn’t have told them she’d even gotten the offer.

But it was so easy to slip right back into old patterns. Even though she hadn’t lived with her parents since she’d moved to college – having moved right to Colorado after she’d graduated – living back at home, she’d found, was a strange thing.

Like, she was a fully-fledged woman, now. She’d spent the better part of the last decade living exactly the life she wanted, not being on anyone else’s schedule. At least, not beyond work. Making all of her own decisions.

And yet, when she sat down to have dinner with her mom and Caroline – especially in the last week and a half, after coming home from a day at Elliston – it felt so natural to slip into a similar mindset of when she’d been a teenager. Chatting about her day, about her interactions.

So, yeah, Rose asking her to join the Board had been a topic of conversation. Especially because it had popped into Abbie’s mind far too often in the last few days.

In fact, she’d had trouble making herself not think about it.

The fact that Rose was seeking her out, to ask Abbie to take the seat that Rose got to appoint. Like, what the hell was that even about?

Why was Rose picking her? She’d seemed really genuine when insisting that she wasn’t trying to antagonize Abbie, so… why?

“Honey, why wouldn’t you take it?” Her mom asked, pulling her back to the moment.

“Not that we’re trying to pressure you,” Caroline added. “But – yeah, why?”

Abbie knew that they weren’t pressuring her, but… she rolled her lips tightly for a long moment, before answering, “I mean, I really do have a lot on my plate. The program is a mess, let alone the team.”

And that was the absolute truth.

“Fair point,” Caroline acknowledged. “And it’s entirely your decision to decide what you can take on right now.”

“Absolutely. You should only do what you feel is in your bandwidth,” her mom agreed, encouragingly.

There was a beat, before Caroline said, “I just – I can’t help but think that this would normally be something you’d want to do. Isn’t it the Board that gets the final vote on things like queer kids going to prom together?”

Abbie blew out a deep breath, completely deflating. “Yeah,” she confirmed, scrubbing her hand over her face again. “It is.”

And Caroline was correct. Abbie normally would love to get involved in something like this.

But the thing her parents didn’t know the half of was the Rose Elliston of it all.

Granted, there was no possible way for them to know. She’d mentioned to them that Rose was now the headmaster, but she’d only done so in passing, not giving them any time to comment or ask questions. The only thing they’d asked was if Abbie had kept in touch with Rose.

And they’d received the truthful answer – a resounding no.

“You have to give your answer today, right?” Her mom clarified.

“… yeah.” She hoped she didn’t sound as pouty to them as she did to herself.

“Oh, my mom’s calling,” Caroline cut in. “We have to fill her in – but I’m looking forward to hearing where you landed on this, tonight. Love you, Ab.”

Her mom echoed the sentiment.

“Love you, too,” she murmured back, before the line went dead.

She dropped her head back with a groan.

As much as she hated it… and she did hate it… there was only one thing to do: go to Rose and get answers as to all of the whys she hadn’t been able to solve. And time was ticking. As in, her parents were right – she had until, well, today, to give her answer.

And for all that Abbie would really love to tell Rose to just shove it, she couldn’t.

She’d tried, a couple of times, to bring herself to go to Rose’s office in the last couple of days. Whenever she let herself get worked up about the fact that: how dare Rose ask anything of Abbie, now? How dare Rose approach Abbie for any reason other than something strictly about her position as the Athletic Director? The one thing Abbie had requested from Rose – maybe ever, but definitely in adulthood – was for Rose to leave Abbie alone.

As much as was possible, given their unique career circumstances in the present moment. But still.

And Rose had waited, what, not even a freaking full week before coming to her practice and asking her a favor?

Was this a favor? It felt like one.

Oh, and Abbie had felt Rose’s approach on the field during her practice.

She’d refused to turn around, and sure, she’d been a little surprised that she’d been right. But it didn’t change the fact that she’d sworn she’d felt like she was being studied.

Granted, she’d had that feeling on the back of her neck – like she was being watched – every day that she’d been running practices out on the field. Rose, as far as she knew, hadn’t been there any other day, so – her surprise was appropriate.

The whole point was: of course, Rose took it upon herself and ignored Abbie’s single request that they mind their own business as much as possible, before the school year even started.

But every time she got on that train of thought and wanted to tell Rose and her offer to join the Board to go to hell… she paused.

For the exact reason her mom and Caroline had brought up – the Board made important decisions here at Elliston. Decisions that had affected Abbie, personally, when she’d been a student here. Decisions that still affected students, now.

Wasn’t it her responsibility to effect positive change when she was in the position to?

She’d really tried to live her life, especially as a public figure, with that in mind.

Clenching her jaw, she pushed herself up out of her chair.

She’d put this off as long as possible. Honestly, a part of her had been hoping for Rose to seek her out again. If Rose sought her out and essentially proved that she was disrespecting Abbie’s request to have space just for the sake of it, it would have made Abbie’s answer easier.

But nooo, Rose seemed to have gotten some semblance of maturity with age. Possibly. At the very least, she didn’t appear to be trying to antagonize Abbie anymore.

Granted, she’d thought that in college, the last time they’d seen one another, too. And she’d been dead wrong. Because the last time they’d seen each other, Rose had taken manipulation and antagonization to an entirely new level.

Whatever the reasoning behind it was, Abbie had never been cowed by Rose Elliston before, and she wouldn’t start, now.

She shut and locked the door to her office. The Athletic Director office was in the same building, at least, as the Headmaster’s office. Abbie had been trying to spend as much time as possible in here in the last few days, trying to get it set up for the start of school next week.

Her office as soccer coach, down near the locker room, was far more put-together. But she couldn’t help it; she had a far clearer vision as the soccer coach than as the Athletic Director.

Taking her time, she started down the hall. It really hadn’t ceased to amaze her how different Elliston felt, now that she was an adult, a faculty member, rather than a student. It –

Her already lackadaisical pace slowed when she heard a child’s giggle sound from behind her.

Frowning, she turned around.

Only to see… an empty hallway?

All right, that was straight out of a horror movie.

Slowly, she turned to face forward and took a few more steps… hearing the giggle again after only a few seconds.

Quickly, she spun around.

And caught a flash of brown hair before a pint-sized human quickly slipped behind a row of lockers several feet behind her.

Abbie didn’t believe in anything supernatural, but damn if she wasn’t relieved at the confirmation that she wasn’t experiencing some sort of The Shining here.

She turned around to face forward again, this time only taking a small step, as she deliberately let out a whistle. As if she was none-the-wiser about having a child stalker.

After her second step, though, she whirled around, and caught said stalker right in the act. “Gotcha.”

The little girl came to a quick pause, stumbling over her feet, before she stared up at Abbie with wide eyes. “How’d you know?” She asked, pushing her bottom lip into a pout.

Her little hands came to fall on her waist and Abbie had never seen someone so little in an Elliston uniform, but damn if it wasn’t absolutely adorable. The girl was just over three feet tall, her hair in a half-up, half-down ponytail, as she held Abbie’s stare, unwavering.

She bit her lip against a laugh, deciding not to mention the obvious laughter. “I have a sixth sense,” she whispered, conspiratorially. “Eyes in the back of my head, some might say.”

In fact, some sports outlets had said similar over the years, with her uncanny ability to seem to sense where the ball was going to be as it sailed toward her in the goal.

“That’s no fun. ’nless you can show me how?” The girl asked, tilting her head up at Abbie.

She held her hands out to the side before dropping them. “I wish I could, kiddo, but it’s something you have to learn over time.”

The girl’s dark eyes rolled, far too hard for such a young kid, in Abbie’s opinion. In a way that was adorably comical. A way that felt… familiar. Had she seen her around the school in the last week?

“Wait til you’re older,” the girl muttered in a mocking tone, accompanied by a long-suffering sigh.

This time, Abbie absolutely couldn’t hold back the slight chuckle that escaped her. “You hear that a lot?”

“All the time,” the kid informed her, moving from her hands on her hips to crossing them over her chest. “Mom and dad say it all the time,” she repeated, as if to emphasize the seriousness of the offense.

“Hey, on that note – how old are you?” Abbie asked, looking the girl over.

Sure, she was in an Elliston uniform, but… she seemed so small. And – she peered around, up and down the hallway – no one else was here? No adults, nothing. There was no way this was right.

The girl’s dark eyes narrowed at her, her chin jutting up at her defiantly. “I’m not gonna tell you that.”

A baffled, exasperated laugh fell from her lips. “What? Why not?”

The girl reeled back, as if offended or something. “You’re a stranger!”

Abbie gamely bit at her inner cheek, trying to hold back her smile. Something about the very serious demeanor of this kid said she’d take it personally if she felt Abbie was laughing at her. “That’s a great point. Okay, I’ll tell you about me – I’m Abbie. I just turned thirty a couple of weeks ago. And I’m the new girls’ soccer coach here.”

She didn’t feel like getting into a discussion about what an athletic director was; best to keep it simple.

The girl blinked up at her, as if measuring her. It was very clear, though, when something seemed to slot into place, and her dark, doubtful eyes lit up with the smile that slid over her face. “You’re, um, you’re the new coach? I love soccer!” She nodded, exuberantly. “I – I wanted to play on the team and my mom said I can’t.”

She stuck her bottom lip out in an even more pronounced pout than before.

“Let me guess – she said to wait until you’re older?” Abbie asked, sympathetically.

She must have said or done the right thing, though, because the little girl took a few steps closer toward her, nodding intently. “Yeah, she did! She, she said I can’t play for Elliston ’til I’m in high school.”

“That’s a bummer,” she agreed, “But, unfortunately, your mom is right about the school team. You can join other leagues to play in with kids your age, until then.”

After all, Abbie’s entire life had been changed when she’d joined her first junior league.

The girl shot Abbie a look like she was, maybe, the dumbest person alive. “I know. I’m on a team! But I wanted to play here.”

Though Abbie had several nieces and nephews – technically, she supposed they were her… step-cousins, once removed? But who had the time or energy for that kind of lingo – she had never been spoken to with so much sass.

She was highly entertained by it, though. “That’s great. What position do you play?”

“I’m a goalie,” she announced, proudly. “What do you play?”

“I’m a goalie, too,” she affirmed, entirely too endeared, before she bent down to whisper, “Can I let you in on a secret?”

It was literally the world’s worst kept secret, but she had a feeling the kid would appreciate it.

The girl nodded, eyes widening in excitement to be let in on a grown-up secret. “What is it?” She whispered.

“I just played soccer in the Olympics.” Wait, would a kid this young even know… “The Olympics are–”

“I know what the ’lympics are!” The girl cut her off, bouncing up onto her tiptoes in obvious excitement. “I watched them with my mom and dad!”

The suspicion in her eyes was completely gone, replaced with a wide-eyed brightness.

“You were on TV! And – Abbie, um, D-Dalton?” She asked, her mouth dropping open into an ‘o’ as she stared up at Abbie.

She grinned, pointing at herself with her thumbs. “That’s me.”

“They said your name on the TV! I remember! I seen lots of your games!” There was an unmistakable pride in her tone as she hopped in place where she stood. “I’m Cassie! And I’m four. But almost five.”

“It’s very lovely to meet you, Cassie.” Abbie offered her hand.

Which Cassie reached out and took. Even though Abbie’s hand absolutely dwarfed her tiny one, she was incredibly amused at the way Cassie firmly clasped at the bottom of her hand in order to take control of the handshake.

“Where’re you going?” Cassie asked as she dropped her hand, staring up at her. “I can help you ’cuz you’re new.”

Perfect. This way, Abbie wouldn’t need to potentially kind-of-kidnap a child in order to make sure she wasn’t abandoning her in the halls.

“I’m trying to go to the Headmaster’s office.” She reached up and tapped her chin. “Do you know how to get there?”

Cassie scoffed. “Yes, I do,” she stated, emphatically. “And I’m going there, too!”

“Great,” Abbie clapped her hands together. “Let’s go together, then?”

“Yep!” Cassie nodded decisively, and started walking down the hall, a little skip in her step. “Um, Abbie, since you’re the coach and stuff, can I play for you?”

Abbie grinned, and you know? She really liked that the kid took her shot when she had it. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with your mom on this. When you’re older, you definitely can. The other girls on the team are just a little big for you, now.” She held up her index finger and thumb.

Cassie sighed, heavily. “Okay. But when I’m older?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, and for a second, it gave her the slightest bit of mental pause.

Frankly, she hadn’t thought too much about the future. Obviously, she knew she wasn’t beholden to this comment to a four-almost-five-year-old about something that was almost a decade to come. But where would Abbie be in ten years?

The future wasn’t clear for her, yet. Admittedly, it rarely had been, in terms of something long-term; she’d always known she couldn’t be a professional player forever.

She’d just always thought that… when the time came for her career to end – barring serious injury – she’d have the time to sit and think about the next step. About the long-term plan.

But she hadn’t really had any time to sit and think for the last month, not really.

She felt like every day since hearing the news of her mom being sick had passed in a blur. The only reason she’d managed to play so well in the Olympics was because of the place she went when she played – a place where she shut her brain totally off from the real world. And shutting her brain off during those games had been the biggest blessing, her only reprieve from racing thoughts of panic and devastation.

And whenever she’d been able to let herself think clear-headed and logically, her thoughts had consisted of figuring out the logistics of retiring, buying out her seasonal contract, buying the soonest ticket home that she possibly could.

It was only in the last couple of weeks since she’d actually returned home and her mom had undergone her surgery, that she was finally starting to be able to breathe.

Six weeks ago, she would have never imagined she’d be here: retired, living at home with her parents, working at Elliston… with Rose. Yet, here she was.

Holding hands with a kid, who was leading her right toward Rose’s office, asking to play on her team in ten years.

She reached up and drew a hand through her hair, let out a deep breath, and had to remind herself: this was still her life, and still in her control.

Especially as the door to Headmaster Elliston’s office came into view, because the last place Abbie could let herself feel out of control was in front of Rose.

“Here we are!” Cassie announced, throwing her a triumphant look, like see, I told you I’d get us here!

Heidi, the admin outside of Rose’s office, was on the landline, typing notes onto the computer at the same time. She halted immediately when she saw the two of them, her eyes widening in obvious question and curiosity.

Abbie started to slow her pace, unsure of how to succinctly explain how she’d come across Cassie in the hall, but obviously she had to?

Before she could even open her mouth, though, Heidi quickly muted the phone call she was on before gesturing over her shoulder. “Go right in.” Before she unmuted and went back to the call.

She tilted her head in confusion at the response, but she supposed it was a good thing. Because she was being tugged along by Cassie, who hadn’t given Heidi the time of day in her determined strut right over to Rose’s office door.

God, it was still so weird to think of this office as Rose’s.

Abbie didn’t even have the time to debate knocking or not, because Cassie made that decision for them. She’d already reached up and twisted the knob, grunting at the weight of the large wooden door when she tried to push it open.

Abbie reached out and helped; hey, Cassie had already done the hard part and made the choice to interrupt Rose’s afternoon without so much as a knock. The last she could do was assist her new friend.

“Heidi? Wh–” Rose’s question as they entered the office was abruptly cut off, as she stared at them from behind her desk.

Eyes first landing on Abbie, the slightest of smiles – it seemed? – tugging at her mouth, before she dipped her gaze to Cassie, and obvious confusion slid over her face. Her full lips pulled into a deep frown, then.

“What’s going on?” She asked slowly, looking between them.

Shaking her head, Rose pushed her chair back and stood, revealing yet another of her suits. This was now the third time Abbie was seeing Rose here, in this capacity, and the third time Rose was wearing a very well-fitted suit. Well, the jacket was off – as it had been both times, before – draped over the back of her chair. The button-up she wore with this one was a pale blue, the sleeves crisply rolled up to her elbows.

When Rose had walked out to her practice the other day, for a second, it had been jarring. To see her looking like… this, while out on the field. If there was any location Abbie could so clearly picture Rose, it was on the soccer field – especially because she refused to think about the last night they’d seen one another, which would be her only other real contender.

But… the Rose on the soccer field in her mind didn’t wear sexy-fitted suits. Jarring.

Blinking herself back to the moment, she admitted, “I don’t really know.”

Cassie released her hand and walked farther into the office, undaunted. Which was rich, because Abbie – when she’d been a student much older than Cassie – had been very daunted by this office.

Breathing out an incredulous laugh, she gestured at her. “I found her in the hallway, and figured I should bring her here.”

“Uh-huh,” Rose hummed, holding Abbie’s gaze for a beat, before she dropped her hands to her hips and trained that serious stare at Cassie. “What’s going on?” She repeated, her voice firm but not hard.

Abbie frowned at it, because… all right, she definitely wasn’t an expert, but was that the right tone to take with a four-year-old? Sure, Rose was technically the headmaster here, but in Abbie’s experience with her, it wasn’t like she’d say Rose had the best interpersonal skills.

Cassie stared right back, though, her jaw tilting up defiantly, as she dropped her hands to her own hips. “I don’t like it there.”

… oookay? Abbie glanced between them, feeling positive that she was missing something, here. She had to be missing some context, right?

She slid her gaze from Rose to Cassie… then back… and it dawned on her.

The thing that made Cassie seem familiar… was Rose. Their mirrored poses – hands on hips, crossed over her chest – the facial expressions. Hell, even Cassie’s tone when she’d been suspicious of Abbie!

The shock slammed into her, dizzyingly hard, and she nearly stumbled backwards from it. Her breath was knocked out of her with the realization – Rose was a mother.

“Cassandra Schiff, how many times have we discussed this?” Rose asked, quietly but sternly, as she walked out from behind the desk.

Cassie heaved a heavy shrug. “I dunno, like ten? But – it’s not even real school in there!” She insisted. “Not ’til Monday!”

“You cannot leave your classroom by yourself,” Rose stated, as she reached the other side of her desk and leaned back against it, putting her only a couple of feet away from Cassie in a stand-off.

“But Mom, I had to help my new friend come find your office!” Cassie insisted, gesturing to Abbie, proudly. Like she’d pulled an ace from her sleeve.

Abbie held up her hands, still feeling so, completely, rocked by this news. “I promise I didn’t kidnap… your kid?”

Yeah, that was going to take some getting used to. A lot of getting used to, actually.

Wow.

Rose’s lips quirked into an amused yet exasperated grin. “Thank you, Abbie, I’m aware.” Her gaze moved right back to Cassie, the smile falling away. “Because she doesn’t need anyone to help her to go MIA from her classroom; she does that very well all on her own.”

“It’s not a classroom!” Cassie defended, ardently, stomping her foot. “It’s day care! And Miss Meg isn’t the boss of me.”

Abbie slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the laugh; it was the only way.

Uh, yeah. If she’d had to pick out Rose Elliston’s child from a line-up, she could have done it from that statement alone.

Rose folded her arms. “And who is the boss of you?”

Cassie’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, as she pressed her lips together in an obvious attempt at stopping the truthful answer from leaving her mouth. She stared up at Rose.

Who stared back.

A stand-off.

The funniest stand-off Abbie had ever witnessed.

Rose lowered her hands to rest on the edge of her desk, crossing one ankle over the other, in a move that stated very clearly I can do this all day.

Fortunately for Rose, Cassie was still a little too young to mirror that same stubbornness, it seemed. Or maybe that was a trait she’d picked up from Nathan, who – from Abbie’s memory – had been a lot easier going than Rose.

Either way, her small shoulders sank as she muttered in defeat, “You and dad. Til I’m older.”

“That’s right,” Rose confirmed, but didn’t… gloat, Abbie supposed was the word she was looking for. Didn’t take pleasure in having out-lasted her kid in the battle of wills. Which was something, she supposed. “And when me or dad bring you somewhere that you know you are supposed to stay until we pick you up, what is the only reason you’re supposed to do otherwise?” Rose asked.

Her tone remained gentle, but unyielding; she was expecting an answer.

Which Cassie gave, a lot quicker than the last one. It seemed she now realized she had to admit defeat, as she muttered, “If I have a ’mergency and then I call a safe person.”

“That’s right,” Rose affirmed again. “So, did you have an emergency today? Did something happen in day care?”

Cassie’s expression scrunched up, like she wanted so badly to defend herself for leaving daycare, but couldn’t. “No,” she finally admitted with a pout. “I just didn’t like it.”

Rose nodded, decisively. “Okay, then.” She reached up, pinching the bridge of her nose briefly, before she pushed herself off her desk and squatted to be eye-level with Cassie. “You know why that’s the rule, right?”

Her tone gentled, then, in a way Abbie had definitely never heard, nor could she have ever anticipated it. Her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead as she watched the scene play out in front of her.

Cassie shrugged again, before she said, “’cuz it isn’t safe to go places on my own.”

“That’s right,” Rose murmured, softly, reaching out and gently stroking a strand of long, dark hair behind Cassie’s ear. “Today, you ran into an adult that you do not know in the hallway.”

Cassie snapped her head up, her eyes wide and insistent. “Abbie’s nice! And I didn’t tell her my name or anything, first.”

“She didn’t,” Abbie piggybacked.

Cassie grinned brightly at her, which Abbie returned.

Until Rose cleared her throat, resolutely keeping her attention on Cassie. “Abbie is nice. But you could have run into stranger-danger. It’s important for you to stay in daycare, Cassie. Your dad and I are going to have a serious conversation about consequences tonight, just like we told you the last time this happened.”

The sigh Cassie emitted shouldn’t be so wildly entertaining, Abbie logically knew that. But it was. “Okay. But can I stay with you ’til it’s time to go home?”

Oh, she made the big puppy-dog eyes with that, all hopeful. Abbie was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of them. Unsurprisingly, Rose remained unmoved.

She let out an exasperated chuckle as she stood up. “Nope. You are going back to daycare until I pick you up to go home.”

Rose reached out and offered her hand to Cassie, who reached her own hand up and held, clearly accepting her face.

Rose shook her hair back, her eyes landing on Abbie for the first time in minutes. For a moment, it was as though Rose hadn’t remembered she’d been standing here this whole time, those dark eyes briefly widening, her cheeks flushing.

“I appreciate you bringing her here,” Rose said, tilting her head in her direction.

So – so – weird, Abbie thought again. It was weird enough, quite honestly, to throw Abbie off from the longstanding vendetta she’d had regarding Rose, if only for right now.

She shook her head. “No problem. I mean, what else was I going to do?” She hesitated for a second before admitting, “I was coming here, anyway.”

Rose’s eyebrow arched up in surprise. “I’d assumed since it’s Friday afternoon and I hadn’t heard a peep from you that you’d made your decision.”

“I have some clarifying questions.” She glanced between Rose and Cassie, deliberately obviously. As in – she would hold the questions until Cassie was brought back to daycare.

Cassie let out another sigh, dropping her head back dramatically, gaining both of their attention. Which Abbie couldn’t help but appreciate, as it broke the unpleasant tension she felt in Rose’s vicinity. They both grinned – Abbie in unfettered amusement, Rose in clear exasperation.

“Let me take her back to daycare, and then we can talk?” Rose asked, having clearly, accurately, read her look.

“Abbie should come,” Cassie piped up. “She’s new here, so she needs to learn.”

“Cassie–” Rose started, but Abbie interjected quickly.

“That’s a good idea.”

She could tell from the way Rose blinked at her silently for a long moment that she’d surprised her, and that felt far too good. But it did feel good to be the one throwing Rose off for a change in their dynamic for once in their lives.

Rose rolled her lips, eyeing her curiously before she shrugged. “All right, let’s go.”

Abbie turned and opened the door, holding it for both Rose and Cassie to pass by her. She hadn’t quite anticipated that it would lead Rose to brushing right by her, and her jaw twitched, as she pointedly turned and looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.

They started down the hall, after Rose briefly informed Heidi of what was going on.

Even though she’d enjoyed throwing Rose off, the reality was she didn’t want to be in the Headmaster’s office by herself, again; last week had been more than enough.

Maybe it was, technically, Rose’s office but it felt so very – overwhelmingly – stifling. The energy in the room still felt very much like Rose’s austere father. To Abbie, anyway. And for all she knew, Rose kept it like that on purpose? Maybe she liked it? What did Abbie know?

What she knew as they walked down the hallway, though, with Cassie between them, was that maybe she should have stayed back in the office. Because the idea that she was casually walking through the hallways of Elliston Prep with Rose and her daughter was still so surreal, she felt like she was in some sort of strange alternate reality.

As they turned a corner and walked past her own office, she cleared her throat and asked, “So… I don’t remember there being a daycare here? Was that always a thing, and I just never realized it?”

She’d been so caught up in Cassie and then the revelation of her parentage, that she hadn’t really had a moment to let that thought settle, before now. But she would have bet her life this hadn’t existed, before. Elliston had offered a kindergarten-high school education before, with the option of full-time boarding students starting in seventh grade.

Daycare, though? She had no recollection of anyone younger than kindergarten anywhere on campus.

“It’s new,” Rose answered. “Pre-K is an option that’s only going to start, officially, this school year, and the daycare initiative only started over the summer as an option for students enrolled in half-day kindergarten or pre-k.”

At the very least, it was validating that she hadn’t been so obtuse when she’d been a student here that she’d literally missed an entire faction of kids running around.

“I was the first person in daycare,” Cassie informed her, looking up at Abbie as she puffed her chest out in pride.

Rose hummed at her, teasingly. “I thought you didn’t like daycare?”

Immediately, Cassie’s eyebrows furrowed as she sent her mother a look. A look that was so – so fucking Rose, Abbie couldn’t stifle her own laughter.

“I – the arts-and-crafts time is dumb,” Cassie muttered, kicking her foot at the ground before scurrying to keep up walking in her spot between them. She looked back up at Abbie, whispering loudly, “And Miss Meg isn’t the boss of me.”

Yeah, she continued to laugh, even as Rose let out a deep sigh.

“Let’s hope arts-and-crafts is over, then, huh?” Rose asked, as they came to a halt outside of the a classroom.

They were still in the main building, just off of the administrative offices, which also would have made sense as to why Abbie might have not known about the existence of this facet to Elliston, in the past. The kindergarten classes were all located closest to the main entrance. As the age-range of the students progressed, the designated campus got farther from the main entrance. As a high-schooler, she’d rarely ever been over here.

Rose reached out and gripped the doorknob, looking over at Abbie before she opened it. “Just a minute.”

She folded her arms and leaned back against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway in silent acknowledgement, as Rose ushered Cassie into the class. Through the glass window at the top of the door, she could see Rose’s soft smile at Cassie – something she absolutely wasn’t used to seeing on Rose’s face, and wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to reconcile that expression with the Rose Elliston she’d known.

Her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead, interest piqued, when a young woman – maybe in her early twenties – quickly approached Rose. There was an extremely nervous energy exuding from her in waves, though. Which Abbie understood.

Because Rose knew how to cut someone off at the knees with a single sharp look. And holy shit, was Rose’s expression sharper than a knife right now, as she leveled the woman Abbie had to assume was Miss Meg with a glare.

Even if the door to the classroom hadn’t been shut, Abbie was too far away to hear what was being said.

But, frankly, she wasn’t sure she needed to hear the words Rose was saying. From the way Miss Meg blanched and her hands fluttered in the air apologetically, then immediately fell lifelessly to her sides as Rose cut her off… yeah, Abbie did not envy Miss Meg right about now.

Their tense conversation was brief, and Rose finished by aiming a devastating stare, before she turned and walked out of the class, back out into the hallway.

Rose quietly shut the door behind her, shaking her hair back, as she looked over at Abbie.

Who let out a low whistle, pushing herself off from where she’d been resting against the wall. “That seemed intense. She might have peed her pants a little.”

She winced in sympathy for the younger woman that had been on the receiving end of Rose’s full-on ire. No, Abbie had never been intimidated by Rose when she’d been on that receiving end, but she’d also been Rose’s peer, not some recent college grad.

Rose narrowed her eyes at Abbie, a fire burning in them, crossing her arms. “I hope she did pee her pants a little. Because I informed her that she’s going to be unemployed shortly.”

Any semblance of teasing or amusement on Abbie’s end dissipated completely. “You’re firing her?”

“Don’t look at me like I’m a monster, Abbie,” Rose shot back, defensively. “How would you feel if you had a child that you entrusted to be – bare minimum – kept in the classroom you dropped her off at, and her daycare provider didn’t alert you that she’d gone missing?”

… okay. Well, when it was phrased like that…

“I’m well-aware that Cassie is a flight risk with a substantial penchant for obstinacy–”

“Can’t imagine where she gets that from,” she muttered.

Rose rolled her eyes, continuing as if Abbie hadn’t said anything. “– which is the reason she wasn’t fired the first two times this happened over the summer under her watch. The third time she loses track of my daughter? Absolutely fucking unacceptable.”

The passion in her voice was so strong, so intense, it was palpable. Abbie could feel it.

“Furthermore, she’s lucky it’s only been my daughter that has slipped past her guard, not some unsuspecting parent that comes to pick up their child and can’t find them. So, yes, I will be taking this directly to an emergency meeting with the Board later.”

Abbie slowly nodded, hating that she had to concede to Rose but… well, she did. “That’s a fair point.” A very fair point.

After all, she’d been highly concerned upon finding a child, unattended, out in the hallways. So, how could she possibly blame Rose for taken action, as the head of the school? Especially when it was her own kid.

Rose nodded at her, clearly mollified. “I know.”

They held eye contact for several moments, the intensity of the last couple of minutes washing away. Leaving them in just… quiet.

Almost a companionable quiet, and Abbie did not like that. Fine, she could see Rose’s perspective about firing Miss Meg, but conceding that Rose made a decent point changed absolutely nothing between them.

Clearing her throat, she shook her head and pushed herself back to the reason she’d been seeking Rose out in the first place. “Speaking of the board…”

Rose blinked at her, twice, as if putting herself back into a different frame of mind. “Right. Your clarifying questions.”

Was it her imagination, or did Rose have a slightly teasing tone to her voice? Was she mocking Abbie for –

As if she could read her mind, Rose held up her hand, the lightness that had edged into her expression slipping away into exasperation. “I’m not making fun of you.” She glanced around them, before meeting Abbie’s stare once more. “Would you like to have this conversation back in my office?”

She couldn’t help but grimace. But even though she knew Rose noticed, she didn’t explain no, because you should freaking redecorate, because… why would she? “Why don’t we go back to mine?” She offered, instead. “It’s closer.”

Rose shrugged, sweeping her arm in front of her to gesture for Abbie to walk back in the direction they’d come from. “Lead the way.”

She did, starting a quick stride back in the direction of her office.

And she refused to look over her shoulder at Rose, even though she wanted to. Because why was Rose staying a few steps behind her? Was it some sort of strange power play that Abbie wasn’t grasping?

As they approached her office, Rose edged into her peripheral, walking by her side. “I should have said thank you, by the way. For bringing Cassie to my office. So… thank you.”

Her voice was quiet and sincere, and yeah, Abbie certainly wasn’t used to hearing that. She aimed a baffled look at Rose as she tugged her keys out from her pocket.

“I mean, what was I going to do?” She asked, incredulously. “I wasn’t going to leave a kid wandering around on their own. Granted, I didn’t know she was your kid…”

She trailed off as she unlocked her office, shaking her head as the weirdness of that statement rolled over her once more.

“What was that look about?” Rose commented, because she was so annoyingly perceptive of Abbie’s expressions.

Abbie had no problem defending it, though, turning to face Rose. “It’s just strange to me. You having a kid.”

Slowly, Rose’s eyebrow winged up at her as she crossed her arms. “I’m far from the only person we went to school with who has a child, now.”

Abbie scoffed. “No kidding.” A handful of their old soccer team had kids; Abbie got holiday cards from most of them. “It’s not about being old enough to have a kid; it’s about you being the one having a kid.”

Rose’s lips pursed, her gaze sharp. “Uh-huh. Do tell.”

Under that stare, she felt herself flush, even as she felt her defenses rising. “Is it so surprising to you? It’s not like anything about you ever screamed warm and fuzzy. Not around me, at least.”

She expected Rose’s heated retort; she felt her blood thrum, anticipating it. Anticipating the devolvement of this conversation into something she was familiar with, regarding Rose.

And she was shocked when Rose’s response was exactly the opposite.

That arched look dissipated, giving into something… softer. Self-deprecating, even.

Definitely not a look she’d seen before, and it really stole a lot of wind from her sails.

“Your response is… valid. I felt the same way, about myself, when I was pregnant,” she admitted, quietly. Unguardedly.

Who was this person?!

“Sometimes, I still do,” Rose continued, flushing slightly, as she walked deeper into Abbie’s office, glancing around the somewhat organized chaos. “I’m still not a very warm and fuzzy kind of person.”

She aimed a look at Abbie, one that was sardonic and pointed, and Abbie was so appreciative of it right now, because it gave her a glimpse of the Rose she knew. It gave her a solid frame of reference from the past to hold onto.

But if Rose felt that way, then why did she decide to have a kid, especially at only twenty-five?

Abbie didn’t ask, though; it wasn’t any of her business to know that. And she was still going to be damned if she let Rose know she had any interest in learning more about her life, even if she was curious.

With that in mind, she rolled her shoulders and got to the point. “The reason I was coming to see you today – you didn’t really fully explain to me why you want me on the Board?”

That look in Rose’s dark gaze – that unguarded, more open look – dissipated, as she narrowed her eyes. “I did, actually.”

Abbie tossed her hands into the air, letting them fall to her sides. “No, you didn’t,” she cut back. “You said because I’m a lesbian. How is that an actual explanation?”

Like, was Rose kidding her?

Apparently not. Since when had Rose ever been a jokester? “I think it’s very clear from my response that I’m looking to appoint a member to the Board that is going to vote in a… particular way.”

Abbie blinked at her, nonplussed, before slowly asking, “Let me get this straight – pardon the phrase – you want me there so I can cast a gay vote?”

Rose’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. “I wouldn’t phrase it as ridiculously as that, but – boiled down – I suppose so, yes.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Why?” Rose echoed, incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. Look, I’m barely back at Elliston. School hasn’t even begun yet. The entirety of the athletics department is a fucking mess.” She circled her hands to gesture around her office, the physical representation of the mess she’d unknowingly stepped into. “And you come back into my life by asking me to join the Board of Trustees as our only real conversation–”

“You’re the one that made it clear last week that you didn’t want to have conversations with me!” Rose’s cheeks flushed as she cut Abbie off.

“Because I don’t.” As far as Abbie was still concerned, the farther from Rose she could be, the better. “But it doesn’t change the fact that – that all of the sudden, you want me to join the Board because I’m a lesbian? Yes, I find it a little strange. Suspicious, even.”

There, she said it.

“Suspicious?” Rose’s incredulity dripped from her tone. If Abbie wasn’t mistaken, maybe even a little bit of insult was there, too.

But she stood her ground, arching Rose her own incredulous look. “You avoid me like the plague for most of the time we knew one another, and now you want me to join the Board because of my sexuality? Yeah, it’s a little sus.”

“You – you can’t possibly still believe I’m homophobic,” Rose spluttered, and Abbie could tell that it was from complete and utter bafflement. The color was high on Rose’s cheeks, her dark eyes glinting at Abbie. “Not after–”

Abbie’s entire face heated as her blood immediately turned up to a boil. “Don’t you dare mention that night.” She hissed. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

At her incensed tone, Rose snapped her mouth shut, staring at Abbie with wide eyes. Abbie, frankly, was a little surprised, too. No, she’d never completely let go of the feeling of being hurt, betrayed, used by Rose that night.

But that night had been almost a decade ago, and she’d – largely – moved on. Even if she didn’t like Rose, she’d have never imagined feeling this… this sheer emotion that was coursing through her.

Then again, she’d have never imagined that Rose would try to bring it up, so casually.

Rose stared at Abbie for long moments, as if trying to make sense of her. As if truly unable to read her at all, and that gave Abbie a vicious sense of accomplishment.

“I’m not trying to put you in some sort of a gotcha situation,” Rose finally spoke, her voice soft – so soft – but firm. Her posture looked so tense, her hands pressing tightly into her sides as if she was holding herself back from saying something. “I’m trying to make changes here. Positive changes. But sometimes it feels like it’s damn near impossible.”

Her lips pulled into a tight line, consternation etching into her features.

Before she rolled her eyes, hard, at Abbie, “And I’m not a homophobe,” she reiterated, her tone implying that she thought Abbie’s implication was insane.

She still stood by it; plenty of people have had queer sex and still behaved terribly toward the queer community.

“But some Board members are,” she conceded, biting at her cheek. “And more than that, a lot of the old-school Trustees don’t like or welcome change of any kind. Even getting to a majority vote to agree to pre-kindergarten and daycare was a battle, and that had nothing to do with changing century-old policies. It only passed because of the additional funding we’re going to receive from benefactors that want their children in the programs.”

Abbie frowned, baffled. “Why would anyone be against adding pre-k? Daycare?”

“Because of reputation,” Rose shrugged, shaking her head. “Like by offering any sort of daycare program takes away from what a respected educational institute we are. A lot of the Trustees are very… old-school and have very traditional concepts of who should be taking care of those kids, rather than having them in daycare.”

A grimace tugged at Abbie’s mouth, both irritation and disgust combining inside of her.

Yes, she’d taken this job at Elliston, and in a lot of ways it had seemed… kismet. She’d needed a new job, and this position had essentially fallen into her lap.

She supposed, though, in a lot of ways – amidst everything else going on in her life – she’d neglected to think about the things about Elliston that she hadn’t enjoyed. Like how she wouldn’t have been able to officially bring another girl to prom.

“That’s why I asked you, specifically, to join,” Rose finished, gazing imploringly at Abbie. “Because I thought you – out of all people, and regardless of how you feel about me – would want to be in a position where you could at least try to make a difference.” She rolled her lips, raking her eyes over Abbie critically. “But it has been a long time since we’ve been in one another’s lives; maybe you’re different now, too.”

Abbie was already shaking her head, hating the way that statement made her feel. Detesting the very idea of it, regardless of whether or not she cared about what Rose thought of her.

“You’re not wrong,” she quietly agreed, closing her eyes as she reached up and rubbed her hand over her face.

Yes, the department she was now in charge of was a mess. And yes, so was the team. And yes, she had a lot on her plate.

But… “If there’s something I can do to change ass-backwards policies that are still, somehow, in place, then – yeah. I’d like to do whatever I can.”

A slow smile – small, but satisfied – slid over Rose’s face. Even as Abbie braced herself for some snarky comment, all Rose said was, “Thank you.”

“Knock-knock!” Norah’s voice sing-songed out as she tapped her knuckles against Abbie’s door frame.

Thankful for the interruption – more than her cousin could possibly know – Abbie rolled her eyes in her direction. “You know, saying knock-knock kind of defeats the purpose of actually knocking.”

Norah shrugged, an unbothered smile on her face as she fully walked into the doorway. “I like the effect. Besides, I think it’s beneficial to fully announce myself, for clarity’s sake. Unlike some people, I didn’t make a reputation for eavesdropping.”

She rolled her eyes again. “And will I ever live it down?”

Fine, so, she’d been an eavesdropper when she was a kid; big deal! Yet, the Parker clan all loved to remind her about it.

Norah’s stare was both amused and unmoved. “Um… short answer – no.”

Rose pointedly cleared her throat. “I suppose I should go.”

Despite the comment, she didn’t move from where she stood rooted in Abbie’s office. All she did was turn her appraising stare to Norah, eyeing her up and down. Unlike the stare she’d leveled at Abbie, though, this one was… harder?

When Rose had given her a critical look, it was more – thoughtful. This one was critical if Abbie had ever seen it.

It was certainly fucking confusing, because Abbie knew that Rose had never even met Norah. So, what the hell was with the glare? Was it because she’d sort of interrupted their conversation? Abbie felt like they’d been hitting a conclusion, anyway.

“Rose Elliston,” Rose introduced herself after several moments beat by, once she’d apparently finished her intense perusal of Norah.

Norah’s eyebrows arched, having obviously caught on to Rose’s unsubtle tone. “Norah Parker,” she returned, offering her hand.

Rose’s jaw clenched, the muscle there twitching with it so hard that Abbie could see it, from several feet away. She stepped forward, sliding her hand into Norah’s and giving it a firm shake. That appraising look returned all over again, her dark eyes narrowing as she looked Norah over from head to toe.

“Hmm,” she hummed, before dropping Norah’s hand.

Norah tilted her head at Rose, narrowing her own eyes. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Her words glittered with the undertone: I know about you. I know how you treated Abbie. And I don’t like it. Abbie had known Norah now for two decades; she could essentially hear the thoughts in her cousin’s mind.

“Likewise,” Rose agreed, in the same tone that Norah had used.

Which made everything even more baffling – what the fuck was she talking about? Why would meeting Norah be a “finally” situation for Rose?

Abbie slowly swung her gaze between the two of them, before clearing her throat, pulling both of their attention in her direction. Whatever was playing out, she was more than ready for it to be over.

 “Uh… huh. So, Rose, just – send me the details. What I need to do to officially join, what the schedule will be like. That sort of thing. I’ll work through it this weekend.”

Rose’s gaze was so sharp, Abbie was sure it alone could cut glass. Even though her dark eyes were ablaze, they softened just a bit as she said, “Absolutely. And – thank you, again, for bringing Cassie to my office.” She pursed her lips, turning back to Norah as she started to walk past her. “Lovely to meet you, Parker.”

“Right.” Norah twisted to the side to let Rose glide by her, sailing out of Abbie’s office.

They both watched for several moments as Rose disappeared down the hall, before Norah slowly turned to face her. “Well, that was interesting.”

Abbie could only offer a heavy shrug. “That was Rose.”

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