She focused on her students instead. “Class, we have a special visitor today. This is Grant Vaughn. He’s a player for the Storm.”
A hand immediately went up. Em pointed to the boy in the middle of the room. “Yes?”
“What’s the Storm?”
Em turned to Grant. “That’s a great question. Would you like to answer that for him, Mr. Vaughn?”
He gave her a quizzical look. Non-teachers—especially younger adults—who came to her class always seemed put off by formal introductions. But rather than let him dwell on it, she gave him an encouraging nod.
Grant adjusted his weight over the crutches. “The Storm is a professional arena soccer team based here in Waterfront.”
Another student raised their hand. Grant called on him. “You have a question?”
“What’s arena soccer?”
Em stood back as he started describing the sport. It was short, engaging, and completely age-appropriate. Em was pleasantly surprised; not everyone knew how to talk to kids. When he was done with his spiel, he swung the black backpack from his back so that it was in front of him. With some careful maneuvering, he unzipped it and pulled out a stack of tickets. “And if you’re really good while I read, I promise to leave some free tickets with your teacher. Sound good?”
Excited chatter went through the class.
“The games are a lot of fun. And you know what the best part is?” Grant said. The room quieted. “Ms. O’Brien is a big soccer fan, and you’ll probably get to see her if you go.”
Em’s kids were nine and ten. They were at an age where some of them still loved seeing teachers outside of school, while others were getting too cool for things like that. The mix of expressions showed the clear division of the students.
Not missing a beat, he turned to Em and asked, “Did she tell you how I protected her at the last game?”
She wanted to cover her face with her hands, but as their teacher, she needed to have some level of decorum. Em plastered a smile on her face and said through slightly gritted teeth, “As a matter of fact, I didn’t.”
“Then I should tell it.”
The kids all leaned forward as one of the girls asked if that was why he was on crutches.
“That would be really cool, but no. I hurt my foot playing soccer.” Grant let out a good-natured chuckle. “I saved your teacher from a ball that flew into the stands.”
“The balls go into the stands?” another kid asked.
“Sometimes, and people can get really hurt if they get hit. Thankfully, I was there to make sure your teacher didn’t come to school with a giant bruise on her face.”
There was more chatter between the students, though it seemed like the majority of them were impressed.
Em wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream at Grant for being so charming or change her no-dating-players rule on the spot for the very same reasons. She stepped forward. “Arena soccer is very fun. And like Mr. Vaughn said, I enjoy going to the games. But he didn’t just come in to tell you stories about the Storm. He came to read a few books as well.”
Some of the kids who enjoyed hearing about sports instead of reading books groaned, but she gave them her best do-not-question-me-unless-you-want-to-go-to-the-office look. It wasn’t a look Em used often, only when she needed her students to know that she was serious.
When they settled, Em grabbed a chair for Grant to sit in. The smile he gave her in return melted her heart. He slowly eased into the seat and pulled a couple books out of his bag. They were the typical books kids this age enjoyed, and Em recognized all of them but one. It looked much older than the rest and had a very plain cover.
Grant started with the unknown book. “This was one of my favorite books growing up. It’s called Red Riding: A Story of How Katy Tells Tony a Story Because It Is Raining.”
That was one heck of a title, but Em was intrigued.
“I have an older sister who was quite bossy when we were kids—still is. Our mom used to read us this book because she said Katy and Tony reminded her of us.” He lifted the book and started reading.
The book was as silly as the title. It was a rainy day, so the older sister decided to tell her younger brother the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. It was sweet because the younger brother kept interrupting the older sister, and she kept correcting him in return.
Em found herself laughing on more than one occasion and tried to imagine younger Grant as the precocious boy from the story. She shook her head. Nope, that wasn’t a good idea at all. If she imagined Grant as that sweet boy, she might be tempted to think he was a sweet guy. And no matter how wonderful he seemed now, Em knew that those first impressions could be deceiving.
So could the second and third and fourth.
She was thankful when Grant was done sharing that adorable book from his childhood and started reading something less personal. It was a book about monsters written by the latest celebrity turned children’s author.
The entire time, the kids listened quietly and were respectful. And Em couldn’t help the pull she felt toward the man reading to them.
Grant
Grant loved reading to the kids.
After being completely useless for the past few days, it was nice to feel like he was making a difference. Ever since his injury, he wasn’t able to participate in practices, though he still attended, and all of his workouts were modified. Grant wasn’t even allowed to dress out for the next few games. If it wasn’t for the fact that he lived with other players, he wouldn’t feel like he was a part of the team at all.
Getting to go to a school
