Them (Him #3) by Carey Heywood Read Free Book Online Page B

at this point.
    What’s fun about this class is since it’s an intro, we jump around and focus on all different types of mediums. Those kids who struggle with stick figures tend to excel in something else. Being there to watch as they recognize their own untapped creativity bloom is pretty sweet. At the end of the day, it’s the reason I teach.
    Right now, we’re doing a section on watercolors and impressionists. The kids love the concept of what looks like a mess up close coming into focus and becoming more beautiful as they step away.
    It’s fun but messy; by the end of class, my floors are looking rough. The moment the kids file out, I grab the Swiffer Wet I keep in the class to tackle the floors. There’s three minutes before my next class starts, so I have to be quick. I’m just over halfway done when there’s a knock on my door.
    “Yes?” I lift my head.
    “Mr. Price. Do you have a moment?” It’s one of the PE teachers, Mr. Garrison.
    “Sure. What’s up?” I glance at the unfinished floor and figure it doesn’t look that bad, so I put the Swiffer away.
    “Would you be interested in assistant coaching the Decater High JV Lacrosse team?”
    Didn’t see that coming. “When would you need to know by?”
    “Take the weekend and if you can let me know by Monday, that’d be great.”
    I nod and he leaves just as my students begin filing in.
    Coach lacrosse?
    Some of my happiest memories from high school, outside of the time I spent with Sarah, were playing lacrosse. Looking back, the aggression I was able to get out on the field had to have kept me from going off the rails. There was no reason to get into fights when I could wait until practice and whale on someone instead. As long as I didn’t get too many fouls, I was good to go.
    Coaching might be fun. It’s something I’ll have to talk over with Sarah because I know what a commitment time-wise it would be. There’d be practice every day after school and then games on Friday nights.
    My next class is working on a project, so other than answering the off-question or doing a lap around the classroom to make sure the kids stay focused, I’m free to let my mind wander. The more I think about coaching, the more I want to do it.
    Lunch is next period, so I can call Sarah and get her thoughts. Once the bell rings and my classroom empties, I grab my phone.
    “Hey, honey. How’d the drop-off go?”
    I laugh. “It was weird. I should have made you go with me.”
    “What, you didn’t want to be alone as you spread your seed around?”
    “That’s just wrong, woman.”
    She laughs and I look up to see Logan hovering in the doorway. I motion him to come in.
    “Hey, the PE teacher stopped by this morning and asked if I’d be interested in assistant coaching the JV lacrosse team over at the high school. I told him I’d think about it because I wanted to talk to you first.”
    “You would be the best coach ever. You should totally do it.”
    “Totally,” I tease.
    “Yes.” Somehow, even on the phone, I can tell she’s rolling her eyes at me.
    “Cool. I wanted to run it by you first before I agreed to anything. I’m going to hop, though, since Logan is here for lunch.”
    “Okay, babe. See you tonight.”
    When I look up, Logan’s eyes are on me.
    “You know how to play lacrosse?” he asks.
    I nod. “Heck yeah. I played lacrosse in high school and for University of Georgia.”
    His mouth drops. “You did?”
    I grin and stand. “I might have some old black and white pictures. Want to see?”
    “That’d be awesome.” His excitement is palpable.
    As I walk over to a storage cabinet, I ask, “Do you play?”
    He shakes his head. “No, but I always wanted to learn.”
    Once I find the album I’m looking for, I head over to his table. “If I get the coaching job and it’s cool with the main coach and your dad, do you want to come to the practices and learn to play?”
    “That’d be amazing, Mr. Price.”
    It’s been a few days since