Facing the Music by Andrea Laurence

interrupting the awkward silence. It was Mayor Otto Gallagher. He had been the mayor of Rosewood for her entire life. The loud, boisterous man was probably in his seventies by now, but there was no slowing him down.
    He rushed over to her in his gray linen suit. There was more belly and less hair than she remembered, but it was the same old Mayor Gallagher. He gave her a firm handshake, his cheeks slightly reddening as he got closer to her.
    That last album cover with the corset and garter belt probably had something to do with it. No matter how much she fought to be a genuine singer-songwriter known for her music and not her body, her stylists were always pushing her to be sexier.
    “Mayor Gallagher,” she said with a smile. “So good to see you again.”
    “We’re so thrilled to have you back in town to help with our fund-raiser. You wouldn’t believe how expensive it is to build a gym or a stadium these days. Insurance covers some of the expenses for the building itself, but not much of what was inside. And since we’re rebuilding, we wanted to do some updates. The student body has grown so much since the school was built in the fifties; we need bigger locker rooms and better equipment. Since no one was injured in the twister, maybe it was a blessing in disguise.”
    “It was a blessing because it brought Ivy home.” A middle-aged woman pushed through the crowd and Ivy immediately recognized her favorite history teacher, Mrs. Everett.
    She came up to Ivy with her arms spread wide. Oh Lord, she was going to hug her. Ivy braced herself, trying not to be too stiff. She’d been gone for so long that she’d forgotten how touchy-feely people were in the South. They loved a good hug. New York? Not so much. LA? How about a fist-bump followed by some hand sanitizer?
    As a celebrity, she was even further removed. Fans would ask for hugs or pictures, but at most events, security didn’t allow it. There would be no buffer here. She needed to prepare herself for the onslaught, because she had no doubt every person in this town would hug her before she boarded a plane home.
    “Mrs. Everett,” Ivy said, taking a step back to reclaim her personal space. “How are you?”
    “You’re not in school anymore, Ivy. You can call me Gloria. I’m the principal at Rosewood High these days. No more history lectures for me.”
    Mrs. Everett—er, Gloria—was always good to all her students, and Ivy was certain she’d make an excellent principal. “That’s a loss for history,” Ivy said. “I learned more from you about the Middle Ages and the Black Plague than anyone else.”
    Gloria’s light brown eyes lit up. “That was my favorite lesson. Everyone gets so fired up about the Civil War around here, they forget the human race existed for millennia before the War of Northern Aggression. But enough of that. We need to get you acquainted with the plans. That’s why you’re here, right?”
    “Absolutely.” Ivy let Gloria escort her over to the large conference table where they had big stacks of papers and drawings for activities.
    “We’ve got a lot of great things scheduled. I’m certain we’ll earn enough money to rebuild the athletic facilities and then some. I’ve always fancied a pool so we could start a swim team. Dream big, right? Well, anyway, before we get into the details . . .” Gloria paused, looking around the room with a frown. “Where’s Coach?”
    “He should be here any minute,” someone offered. “He had to wait for his health class to end.”
    “Oh, all right,” Gloria said, continuing on. “I’ll just repeat all this to him later. Ivy, you’ll be working closely with Coach for nearly all these events. You’re the spokespeople of sorts.”
    That wasn’t too bad. Ivy had always liked Coach Ford. Working with him wouldn’t be bad at all. “That all sounds fine.”
    “Did I hear someone say Coach? Sorry I’m late, it’s sex ed week. You know how that goes.”
    Ivy turned her head