Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Even though I know Gracie did have an awesome night with Katy and me last weekend, I’m not a moron. This message’s sole purpose is to aid my sister’s urge to pry into my business.
Her nosy ass can definitely wait on a response, I think to myself as I open Thatch’s message next.
Thatch: How’s Ms. Dayton? You still hot for teacher?
Why does it feel like everyone is texting me about Katy? It’s not that I mind it, but it’s just strange.
As I step into the teachers’ lounge to grab some napkins, I decide to respond to Thatch’s message. Though, I pointedly choose to ignore his questions about Katy.
Me: How are Kline, Wes, and Cap? All three still alive, I hope?
Thatch: Ha. Nice deflection, Mackie. And Kline and Wes are fine. Cap is a fucker. Still alive, but a fucker.
Me: I know our last investor meeting almost turned to bloodshed over your future career as a children’s book author, but I’m hoping maybe we can give it another go and quite possibly get some official investors on board with the foundation…
Thatch: All right. I’ll take the bait. I guess I have time to play Santa Claus right now and bring you a bag full of good news.
Me: Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
Thatch: It’s looking like your little music foundation is going to have four investors, bud.
Me: You better not be fucking with me right now.
Thatch: Would I fuck with you?
Me: Yes, you would, actually. And you do all the time.
Thatch: No lube or penetration needed. I can say with certainty that all four of us are in. I’ll get a meeting scheduled to finalize the details soon.
Me: HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT.
Thatch: Congrats, McMack. Looks like your dreams are coming true.
I’m pretty much pacing the teachers’ lounge by the end of our conversation, and by the time I shove my phone into my pocket, I’ve completely forgotten about my lunch.
“You got the shits or something, Mack?”
I look across the room to find Alma sitting at one of the tables, staring at me.
“It always happens to me after I eat cottage cheese.” She gives me more info than I certainly need. “I got some Imodium in my bag, if you need it.
“Thanks, but my stomach is good, Alma,” I say through a laugh and run a hand through my hair. “I just got some news that’s almost too good to be true.”
She shrugs and takes a bite from her sandwich, unbothered.
I grab my bagged lunch and dart out of the lounge. There’s only one place I want to go, and my feet don’t have any problem taking me there.
“Mr. Houston, you wanna play dodgeball with us at recess?” Bobby, one of my favorite third-grade kids, shouts toward me, but all I can offer him is a high five and the bag of potato chips in my bag.
“Sorry, dude. Gotta take a raincheck,” I call over my shoulder. “Next time, I’m in!”
“Thanks for the chips, Mr. H!”
I have similar interactions with a few more kids in my classes, though I don’t have any chips to pass out to them, and by the time I make it to Katy’s classroom, I’m practically out of breath from having to sprint through the halls to avoid any more distractions.
“Mack? You okay?” she asks when I barrel into her empty room and shut the door behind me.
“I finally did it!” I announce and walk toward her. I drop my deli bag on her desk and pull her up and out of her chair in two seconds flat. “I got my investors, Katy,” I whisper into her ear as I hug her tightly to my chest.
“That’s…uh…really great, but should I know what that means?”
I laugh and force myself to step away from her before someone in the hall sees us together. “I guess an explanation would help, huh?”
She holds two of her fingers close together. “Just a little bit.”
“I’ve been working on this for two years, babe.” I let out a deep exhale and try to slow my excited heart down. “For two years, I’ve been trying to start this music foundation, Music in Motion. And I finally have enough investors to really do it.”
“Music foundation?” she asks and tilts her head to the side.
“Yeah. I mean, you know music education is always the first thing that goes when schools have to cut budgets,” I start to explain, and she nods along in understanding. “My foundation will help avoid that. The goal is to make sure every student at every school in this city will get the music education they deserve, whether there’s official funding or not.”
“Seriously, Mack? I had no idea you’ve been working on something like this.” Her eyes search mine, but it’s not because she’s trying to find something. It’s because of something else I can’t quite discern. “That is…such an incredibly honorable thing.”