Her Imaginary Husband (Contemporary Romance) by Lia London Page A

patronize me, Ms. F.”
    She held up an appeasing hand. “You’re younger than I am. But in my few extra years, I’ve realized something. The people I remember from high school—out of everyone, the jocks, the brains, the stoners, the band geeks—you know who I remember? You know who I look back and think, ‘That guy was cool ’?”
    The set of his jaw relaxed, and he shrugged.
    “The kids who were nice . No matter what group they belonged to. If they were nice to everyone they saw, they were cool. They made a difference. I still look up to them years later.” She smiled at the memory. “In the end, that’s what makes the biggest impact. That’s what gets you remembered in a good way.”
    Josh seemed to consider her words. “Whatever.”
    “Think who you remember most from your childhood,” she continued. “The nice kids and the mean kids, right?”
    He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. I guess.”
    “Don’t be the kid they remember for being mean, Josh. You’re better than that.” They looked at each other for a long beat, and then she exhaled and turned to go back to the classroom. “Why don’t you take a long visit to the water fountain, maybe think about what I said? Then come back to class, okay?”
    “Wait.” He straightened. “No office? No detention?”
    “Do you need it?”
    “No?”
    “Good. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
    “Thanks, Ms. F. You’re all right.”
     
    
     
    “Are you kidding me? A Spirit Day Assembly?” Nikki stared at the announcement sheet and growled.
    Gayle smirked. “Oh well, just cancel Hemingway.”
    “I’ll never get that far.”
    “Trust me. You’ll enjoy this one,” said Gayle.
    They pressed their way into the throng of slow moving students, and Nikki covered her nose. “I’m not sure which is worse,” she whispered. “The smell of teenage boys, or the smell of teenage boys trying to cover the smell of teenage boys.”
    “Yeah, the cologne fumes are pretty strong.”
    “Don’t light a match. The whole place’ll blow.” Nikki formed at megaphone with her cupped hands and imitated a cow. “Moooooooove!”
    The students closest to her giggled, and Gayle back-handed her. “You’re as bad as the kids.”
    “Says the woman who plays hangman during staff meetings.”
    “Hey, on another note,” said Gayle, laughing as she changed the subject. “I don’t suppose you and your husband are available to chaperone the Homecoming Dance October 9 th ?”
    Nikki fumbled with a reply. Now’s the time to come clean. She opened her mouth to tell Gayle the truth just as half the football team barreled through the crowd cheering, “Wooohoooo! Go Wildcats! Yeah!”
    Everyone covered their ears, laughing at the leaping energy of the boys. Nikki and Gayle made it to the double doors of the gym and stepped aside gratefully to allow the students onto the bleachers. Her confession forgotten, Nikki sidled over beside the other teachers who stood in a ragged line beneath one of the basketball hoops.
    “This is different,” said Nikki.
    “It’s the epic battle between good and evil,” said Gayle.
    The gym ceiling hung with streamers in the anticipated blue and gold, and banners with snarky jokes about tonight’s opponent on the football field graced the walls. But in between, an obstacle course made of hay bales brought a new smell entirely.
    “What’s this about?”
    “Spirit Day,” said Gayle with a documentary narrator’s voice, “is more than a day to tout the colors of the Riverview Wildcats. It is a time for each courageous department and every major extra-curricular group to assert their dominance in the Wildcat Kingdom. By the end of this yearly ritual, students will be in a veritable frenzy of Wildcat fever. School pride as a whole comes from pride in its individual…” She waved her hand and returned to her usual tone. “Blah blah blah. You get the picture.”
    “Okaaaay. But hay bales? And how long is this going to go