Rule #1 - You Can't Date the Coach's Daughter by Anne-Marie Meyer

Author:Anne-Marie Meyer [Meyer, Anne-Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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By halftime, we’d sold out of foam fingers and Panther visors. Dad was going to be happy. Well, partially happy. When he found out what some of the students decided to do with the foam fingers, he was going to blow a gasket. But it was a high school football game, what did he expect?

When the cheerleaders ran out onto the field, I stood and started shifting the product around to make it look like we had more things than we did. Samson and Jessica had gone off for a snack, leaving me alone.

“Wow, Destiny. This is amazing.”

I turned to see Ms. Swallow standing next to the table with an appreciative look on her face. I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

She nodded—maybe a bit too enthusiastically. I quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I tried not to wonder if the reason she was talking to me was because of my dad. I scoffed. That was stupid. She was my teacher. Liking my dad was not a prerequisite for talking to me.

“Yeah. I really like your school spirit.”

I shrugged as I filled the cup that held the banners. “It’s the only group that my dad will let me join. Plus, he’s really pushing for us to go to state this year and ‘fans are just as important as players.’ ” I attempted my best Dad voice.

When I glanced over at Ms. Swallow, she was smiling at me. Maybe a little too much.

Stop thinking like that, Tiny.

But I couldn’t help it. This was too weird. Seeing a person actually like Dad? Bile built up in my throat, so I pushed all thoughts of Dad dating from my mind.

It was really ridiculous if I broke it down in my mind. Dad had told me that relationships and love were useless from the moment Mom left. The only way to keep yourself safe was to keep everyone at a distance. So even allowing those ideas of him dating was crazy.

No. The only reason Ms. Swallow was talking to me was because I was the Pep Group President and she wanted to buy some physical school support.

“Did you want to get something? We’re out of foam fingers and panther visors.”

Her eyes widened as she glanced at the remaining paraphernalia on the table. “Um, yeah, sure. I’ll take a banner and…” She ran her finger through the air as she pointed to all the items. “A panther t-shirt.”

I grabbed her items and stuffed them into a bag. “That’s thirty dollars.”

Her eyes widened, but she nodded, pulling her purse forward and getting out her wallet. After she paid, she stayed by the table. I eyed her. Was it rude for me to ask her to leave?

After I helped an enthusiastic grandmother and a man with a t-shirt that could barely cover his stomach, Samson and Jessica came back. I declared that it was my break time and slipped from the booth. Ms. Swallow must have grown bored watching me or sensed that I wanted to

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