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Story: The Coach

Chapter One

IVY

The bell rings to start the school day, and the door bursts open like someone fired a starting gun. “Good morning, Miss Bennett!” the kids shout, their backpacks thudding onto desks and chairs screeching across the floor.

“Good morning, everyone,” I reply, trying to suppress a smile. It’s already May—hard to believe the end of the school year is practically here already. I’m going to miss this batch of kids a lot. “Please sit down before you turn this classroom into a wrestling ring.”

Brayden is already halfway across the room, pretending to throw a football. “Touchdown!” he shouts, dodging Mason, who’s trying to tackle him.

“Brayden, take a seat. Mason, save your tackling for recess,” I say firmly, pointing to their desks. “Otherwise, I’m putting both of you in charge of organizing my supply closet.”

That does the trick. Brayden slides into his seat, still grinning, and Mason groans dramatically as he slumps into his chair.

“Alright, let’s start the day off easy,” I say, writing Friday Warm-Up: Weekend Plans on the board. “In your journals, I want you to write about what you’re most excited to do this weekend. And before you ask, Mason, playing Xbox doesn’t count.”

The class groans as I say it, and Mason throws his hands in the air. “Why do you always come at me like that, Miss Bennett?”

“Because I know you can be more creative,” I reply with a sweet smile. “Now, go!”

As they get to work, I weave through the desks, glancing at their journals. Emma Lopez’s hand shoots up.

“Yes, Emma?” I ask, pausing by her desk.

“Miss Bennett, what are you doing this weekend?” She asks.

“We can all share our plans after we’re all done journaling.”

“Miss Bennett, are you married?” she asks, not taking the hint, her eyes wide with curiosity.

I blink, caught off guard. “Uh, no, I’m not.”

“Why not?” she presses, tilting her head like this is a perfectly reasonable question to ask your teacher.

Before I can respond, Mason groans loudly from across the room. “Miss Bennett’s not married because she’s too busy picking on me! Now I gotta do something this weekend besides play Xbox!”

The whole class bursts into laughter, and I fight the urge to laugh myself. “Thank you for your expert analysis, Mason,” I say dryly, earning a few more giggles.

Emma looks unconvinced. “But don’t you want to get married someday?” she asks earnestly.

I kneel down by her desk, lowering my voice. “Maybe, Emma. But only if I meet the right person. You wouldn’t want me to rush into something, would you?”

She considers this for a moment, then nods solemnly. “Okay. But you should hurry, because my grandma says the good ones get taken fast.”

This time, I do laugh. “Noted. Now back to your journal, Emma.”

“Miss Bennett!” Emma says, her hand shooting up again before I can even move on. “My dad said a famous football coach is in town! Do you think he’ll come to our school?”

I raise an eyebrow, amused. “A famous coach? What’s he doing here?”

Emma shrugs. “I don’t know! My dad says he’s here for some fundraiser thingy. He coaches in the NFL! With the big dogs! You think he’ll come visit us?”

The class immediately starts buzzing with excitement. Brayden pipes up, “What if he comes to recess and throws the football with us?”

“Yeah!” Mason adds. “What if he signs my jersey?”

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” I say, holding up my hands. “If he’s as busy as you say, I doubt he’s stopping by Oakridge Elementary. But I’ll keep an eye out for anyone suspiciously good at throwing spirals.”

The room bursts into giggles, and Brayden shouts, “Miss Bennett, you should totally marry him if he does!”

“Okay, okay,” I reply, clasping my hands together. “Let’s focus on our journals before we plan my entire life, okay? This is about the weekend .”

The kids laugh, and I move back to my desk, stealing a glance at the clock. Fridays always feel endless, but tonight there’s a fundraiser at the town hall, and for once, I’m actually looking forward to it. Maybe it’s the excuse to dress up for a change or the promise of free wine—either way, it’ll be a nice break from my usual Netflix-and-takeout Friday evenings.

I shake off the thought and refocus on the class. “Alright, who’s ready to share?” I ask. Hands shoot up across the room, and I smile. Just another day in the classroom.

At home, my cat, Luna, perches on the back of the couch, her tail flicking like she’s judging me. I let out a dramatic sigh, holding up the emerald dress I’d spent entirely too much on last month.

“It’s fine, Luna,” I mutter, shaking the dress out. “It’s not like I’ll be the only single person at this fundraiser. Everyone loves the spinster teacher vibe, right? And they were being ridiculous. I’m twenty-seven. I’ve got lots of time.”

Luna meows, unimpressed. I drape the dress over the arm of the couch and sink down for a moment, scrolling through my phone. Another engagement photo on social media. This time it’s a friend from college holding up her hand with a giant diamond, captioned “He put a ring on it!”

I groan, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside me. “You know what? I’ll skip the awkward dating phase and just marry you, Luna.”

She blinks at me, noncommittal, and I give her a few more pets.“Dating is just so hard in this town. It’s like, all the good men have moved to the city or gotten married. Or they’re desperate. Remember the last time I tried to fire up the dating apps, and he literally asked me—on the first date—if I would be changing my name for his? Shoot. Is Emma’s grandma right ?”

I stand up, shaking it off. I can’t believe my dating life has come to taking advice from my fourth graders’ grandparents. And talking to my cat.

Luna meows. “You’re right. Not tonight. We’re not doing the pity party thing. It’s going to be a great party tonight, and you never know what can happen when you keep a positive attitude. My mom always says love strikes when you least expect it. Besides, why would I move to a big city when rent here in Riverbend is way more affordable than in some big fancy city?”

I pull the emerald dress on, smoothing it over my hips. It’s sleek but simple, hugging all the right places. A tiny spark of confidence blooms as I add my favorite heels. Not bad, Ivy. Not bad.

I grab my clutch and head out the door, the spring air warm against my skin. The road to the fundraiser isn’t far—just a few miles outside of town—but halfway there, my car jolts, and I hear the unmistakable thunk-thunk-thunk of a flat tire.

I do a yoga breath to hide my frustration, pulling over to the side of the road. I climb out and stare at the sagging tire in disbelief. The emerald dress feels much less glamorous now, especially as I crouch down to inspect the damage. Because why wouldn’t this happen tonight?

I pull my phone out and call my stepdad. He answers on the second ring. “Hey, Ivy.”

“Hey, Carl,” I say, trying not to sound as annoyed as I feel. “So…I hate to bother you on a Friday night. But I’ve got a flat.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish.”

“Damn. Are they ever going to fix those damn potholes?”

“If they did, it would be like we lost good friends at this point.”

He chuckles, then lets out a low sigh. “Alright, kiddo, I’m almost off my shift at the railroad. Can you wait forty-five? I’ll come out and help.”

“Yeah,” I say, kicking a pebble. “I’ll wait.”

Hey, at least the weather isn’t horrible.

And I guess I’ll get to watch the sunset tonight, at the very least.

Forty-five minutes later, Carl shows up in his blue pickup, still in his work boots and orange vest. He gives me a once-over, his brow lifting at the sight of my dress. “Well, don’t you look fancy tonight. Hot date?”

I laugh out loud. “I wish, Carl. I wish. Just the fundraiser tonight, actually.”

He chuckles, grabbing the jack and spare from my trunk. “You know, someday you’re gonna marry a guy who knows how to do this so I don’t have to.”

“I’ll get right on that.” I sigh, leaning against the car. “Know any single guys around?”

“Yes. And you’ve turned them all down,” Carl laughs. Pausing and looking at the tire, he smiles. “I’m just messing with you, you know. I think it’s good that you have high standards. Honestly, I do. Your mom is the one that worries about you more than I do.”

“Oh? Is she worried?”

“Well, you know how she is. Worries about everything. And you’ll always be her little baby.”

By the time he’s finished, the spare’s on, but I’d be rolling into the fundraiser when it’s halfway through dinner. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but frankly, I’m just not in the mood anymore.

“Thanks Carl,” I tell him, giving him a hug before climbing back into my car. “I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says with a grin, waving me off. “Just come by the house sometime and say hi during the week. You know how your mom and I love your surprise visits. You’re welcome any time. Not just football Sundays.”

“It’s not even even football season. It literally is the opposite of football season right now.”

“Not yet .” Carl laughs. Even though Iowa doesn’t have a professional football team ( yet, as Carl always says), he’s faithfully there to watch every game. “Sorry, hun. I just can’t get into baseball the same way.”

I roll my eyes, just a little, but really I’m smiling.

“Have a good weekend, kid,” he says. “Watch out for those potholes.”

Back at home, I park the car and text my best friend, Lauren.

Me: Change of plans. Wanna hit Cherry Street for Cinco de Mayo? I hear The Tipsy Cactus has some killer drink specials

She replies immediately.

Lauren: OMG YES. No fundraiser??

Me: Eh, I got a flat tire and I’m more in the mood for hanging out with you than trying to be social

Lauren: Fair. I’ll get ready stat, and walk by your place then we can head over. Sound good?

Deal.

When we walk into The Tipsy Cactus, it’s packed, the bar humming with energy. String lights crisscross the ceiling, and the smell of lime and tequila fills the air. College kids from Riverbend Valley University are everywhere, patting each other on the shoulder,

“Wow,” Lauren says, looking around. “This is a lot. It’s like being back in college!”

“It’s fine,” I say, smiling as we step further inside. “We’re here for the margaritas, not the frat boys.”

Then, amidst the sea of frat boys, I see him.