Page 4 of Inside Out
“Your tennis coach?” Curtis asked.
“He’s also our chemistry teacher,” Ellie told him.
“And a classically trained musician who was accepted at Juilliard but chose chemistry and science over music,” Clara told them.
No one asked how she knew. Her mother had read Julius’s resume then apparently shared the details with people in her life, including her teenage daughter. It wasn’t like she could use something so innocent against Julius in class, but what other kinds of school business did her mom discuss in front of her?
“Dr. Bradley,” Ellie said, interrupting my thoughts. She smiled when she gained my attention. “How soon can we come to your office to begin working out a schedule?”
“How about five o’clock this evening before we have the mandatory fall sports meeting with coaches, parents, and players?”
“That sounds perfect. Come on, guys,” she said to her friends. “Let’s see if we can catch Mr. Shepherd at the school. He said he would be setting up his classroom this afternoon.”
The three of them darted out the door without saying goodbye. Two thoughts slammed into me as I watched them walk toward the high school:What the hell were you thinking?andPlease let Julius Shepherd agree to help them—us.
I picked up my phone and dialed my secretary, Priscilla. If there was one thing I knew for certain, she didn’t like it when I forgot to update her with any changes to the calendar she kept for my daily commitments. And by calendar, I meant one of those big desk calendars where she could pencil in my appointments. Priscilla was old school. She didn’t do electronic calendars, email, or even voicemail. My calls went through her rather than to me on a direct line. Her message system consisted of those pink “While You Were Out” message pads. I thought it was odd at first and worried I’d have a hard time adjusting, but she filtered out the bullshit calls and redirected them when needed. Priscilla might not have been tech-savvy, but her fifty years of experience working for the school district was invaluable.
“Hello, you’ve reached The Dragon’s desk,” she answered, making me snort. She must’ve seen my number on her caller ID because that wasn’t her usual greeting. Priscilla Marshal was the epitome of little but mighty. She was only five feet tall and probably weighed ninety pounds, but the woman was fierce. She guarded my door like a dragon, and no one got in to see me without an appointment. “How may I help you?”
“Dr. Fancy Pants calling. I need to add an appointment to my calendar for this evening.”
“You already have the sports meeting,” she reminded me. “What’s this Dr. Fancy Pants bullshit?”
“It’s just a name I overheard someone call me. I’ve been called much worse. Anyway, I know I have the fall sports meeting, but this will be a brief gathering at five to go over some production plans for the school play I’ve agreed to direct.”
“You? When did this happen?”
“Thirty seconds before I called you,” I answered patiently. “I know this is your night to play bridge with the ladies, so don’t worry about staying late.”
“You’re damn right I’m not staying. Beatrice Abernathy is going down tonight. I have your appointment marked on your calendar. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dr. Fancy Pants.”
“You bet, Dragon.”
I loved my new town with its quiet, tree-lined streets more than I could ever have imagined, but the best part by far was the quirky residents. One particular resident was my favorite, and my heart raced at the prospect of working closely with him on the school play.
Please say yes, Julius.