Everything But (2 page)

And whose bright idea had this stupid auction been anyway?  It hadn’t been a tradition back when she’d gone to school…had it?  But once a year near the
beginning
of May
(just after prom)
, the cheerleaders held an event where they were “auctioned” out for dates.  The “date” was a dinner hosted by the school, catered by a local restaurant, followed by a small dance, all in the very same gym where they were talking
, and it all took place the night after the auction
.

It was stupid.

But,
Erin
had to admit, when she’d found out how much money the auction made, she had to admit it wasn’t a bad idea.  The girls used this fundraiser to pay for their annual summer camp.  “Much better than a carwash,” Rainy had said on Monday when they were briefing
Erin
about her new job.

The girls started chattering again about shoes and jewelry and
Erin
couldn’t help but tune them out.  Only two of these girls had been in her English classes, and
Erin
knew why.  She’d been branded as a “hard” teacher, probably because she taught two honors classes,
so
she knew a lot of the cheerleaders had steered clear.

Damn Mrs. Carmichael.  The woman
—the French teacher—had been the cheerleading coach even back when
Erin
had attended school here.  But last weekend she’d injured herself on a ski slope.  The woman had said in the staff meeting earlier that week that she was going to go skiing one last time before the slopes were closed…just
had
to get in one more day.  And
Erin
still wasn’t clear about how the woman had actually injured herself, only knew that she’d fucked up one of her legs so badly, she had a cast from the top of her thigh to
the
toes on her right leg.  Mr. Becker, the principal, had told
Erin
that Mrs. Carmichael wasn’t even walking yet.  So he’d asked
Erin
if she could finish out the spring and possibly spend some time with the cheerleaders over the summer to get them ready for camp.

Erin
was reluctant, but Mr. Becker had always been good to her.  She was certain he was the main reason why she’d gotten the job, and he did his best to make sure she had what she needed in the classroom.  And while she hadn’t been a fan of Carmichael, the girls needed
someone
…and no one else seemed interested.  Still,
Erin
considered turning him down, but he mentioned that she’d get a stipend on her checks for being the substitute cheer coach…for a month or so,
maybe until
August or September at the latest.

As the girls started bickering about which girl would be auctioned first,
Erin
took another deep breath, preparing to tell them to all quiet down.  August or September wouldn’t be soon enough.

Chapter Two

GODDAMN
. 
RILEY SCHULTZ
couldn’t remember the last time he’d stepped into the Winchester High School gymnasium, but he figured it had to have been sometime near the end of his senior year…so
,
twelve years ago, give or take, if he’d calculated it correctly.
  And he’d never
planned
to ever walk into his school again, but his life had taken some weird turns over the last few years, things he hadn’t counted on.

He’d made sure to dress the part.  They were expecting the big bad rock star, so that’s what they’d get.  He had on his black Ray-Bans, tight leather pants, and a red
sleeveless
t-shirt
designed to expose the tattoos on his arms
. 
He
couldn’t
spike his reddish-brown
hair the way he knew his fans would expect it to look
because he’d been growing it out.  It was just past his chin now and lots of girls had told him it was sexy, so he was keeping it longer and messy
for now
until he got sick of it.  But he
put on
his trademark,
the dog tags he’d worn ever since his first
photo shoot
.  He’d even shaved off the two or three days’ accumulation of facial hair, redefining the soul patch on his lower lip that seemed to drive the women wild.

But while he dressed the part, he didn’t feel it. 
Not at all.

And he really didn’t want to go through with the plan, either, but he’d promised.  Besides, his new band’s CD had several months before release.  They’d just finished recording and now it was being mixed.  Riley wanted no part of that bullshit.  Their manager was putting together a touring schedule and, sometime
this
week,
their new single would be on the radio.  So, for now, he was in a lull and had time.

But why had he agreed to do
this
?  Why?  Because his mother had asked him, and he’d wanted to make her happy.  She hadn’t demanded it, had instead mentioned that the school was “doing” its annual cheerleader auction.  Riley hadn’t remembered
them doing that
that back when he’d gone to school, but then again he’d been too busy drinking, smoking weed, and
sniffing out
pussy to have participated in lame events like that.  But she’d said the auction probably wasn’t going to do as well as it had in the past because the coach had injured herself the week before.  Apparently, she’d been the perfect emcee, and the school was convinced that her talents were what had led to the auction being a great fundraiser.  The school had a substitute coach, but the poor girl had no clue what she was doing and had never participated in the auction before.  Riley’s mother was on the school board and suggested maybe her famous son, charismatic on stage, could lead the proceedings.  And then she asked Riley if he’d do it…
after
she’d made the
principal
excited about the prospect.

Riley’s caree
r as a
heavy metal vocalist had left his parents beyond disappointed, so when he’d first agreed to it, he thought it was nice that his mother could find something to appreciate about his career, even if she never would like his music.

But now he saw that it had just been a knee-jerk reaction to what he’d perceived as acceptance.  After all, it wasn’t like he was going to be
performing
at the auction.

Well, he
would
be, but it would be as an actor.

So he walked into the gym, looking for a man in a beige suit as his mother had advised.  That person would be the theater guy, the one who’d set up the stage and lights.  Riley spotted him and, as he closed the gap, he forced his brain to pull up the guy’s name…Gill, Gall?  He couldn’t remember.  Or maybe it started with a
D
.  The guy saw him coming and smiled, starting to extend a hand in greeting when Riley heard to the left, “
Oh, my God!  It’s true!  It’s Riley
Schultz
.  Oh, my God
,
I
love
Spawn!
”  Three girls
ran up to him and he knew it was just the beginning of a swarm
.

Nothing new.
  Riley had grown used to it.  He’d learned to disguise himself when he needed to—baseball caps to hide the hair, long-sleeved shirts to
cover
the tattoos, no jewelry, and sunglasses would allow him to walk around unnoticed most times.  But, of course, they’d been banking on his name tonight, so he hadn’t covered himself at all.

Riley knew how to charm the girls.  He spent a couple of minutes
chatting
them up and signing autographs while more and more people started to gather around.  The theater guy finally intervened.  “All right, gang, break it up.  You can talk to Mr. Schultz later.”

Riley almost laughed. 
Mister
…if this guy only knew how anti-authority Riley was, he’d know Riley never wanted to have that sort of title.  He much preferred
Metal God
.

Now, though, he wasn’t sure he even wanted that.  He shook hands with the theater teacher, avoiding calling him by name, thereby announcing he’d forgotten.  One of the kids on his tech crew called him Mr. Gill, so Riley wouldn’t have to worry anymore.  Better yet, Mr. Gill insisted that Riley call him
Ron
.  Basically, Riley would be reading off note
cards to introduce each of the girls, but even beforehand, the co-captains of the football team were giving a PowerPoint presentation full of pictures of the
cheerleading squad together, along with separate pictures of each young woman.  Then Riley would take over, playing emcee-slash-auctioneer.

Gill was bending his ear, trying to impr
ess Riley with his stage, lights
, and sound setup, but Riley just kind of wished he was curled up on his mom’s couch,
riding a high
, watching DVDs. 
Hell, if he’d been smart, he would’ve
smoked a bowl
before attending this shindig. 
Too late now.
 
Gill finally showed Riley where he could hang out next to the stage until it was his time to shine.  Riley sat in a chair next to the
platform
and looked out over the audience.  And
then
it hit him.  It was in this same
fuckin
’ place he’d begun the path he was on now.  He and four of his buddies had participated in a Battle of the Bands during his senior year in high school.  Looking out over the audience now, he wondered why he hadn’t been freaked out.  But then he remembered.  Part of his calmness was thanks to his overwhelming confidence; part of it was because of
several swigs from a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, his drink of choice back in the day
.

He wasn’t freaked out now, just bored as shit.

But then he spotted
her
. 
A fucking gorgeous blonde sitting on the bleachers next to the cheerleaders.
  Was
she
the substitute cheerleading
coach and, if so, could he spend
his week at home getting to know her a little better?

Well, that was
a
stupid
idea
, but maybe they could hang a little.

Once he’d spotted her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.  She was wearing
an ivory dress, but from where
he was sitting, he couldn’t tell if it was long or short
,
demure or sexy.
  And her hair was pulled up
and back
wit
h just a few wisps of hair flow
ing out here and there.  She wore long, dangly silver earrings.  What struck Riley, though, was how nervous and stressed she looked.  Yeah…that had to be the coach.
  His mother had mentioned the
stand-in
coach was reluctant.

Maybe a little dose of Riley would make her feel better about the whole thing.

He
almost laughed out loud at how the old Riley cockiness just never left him.  He’d become quite a good actor, almost believing the character he portrayed.  Yeah, there’d been no doubt he’d really been that way early on in his career, but life had changed him.  He was no longer the cocky, arrogant, self-assured man he’d been ten years ago.  In fact, if people knew how the real Riley was…well, they might not be fans anymore.

Thus, the act had to be maintained.  He could only be real when he was by himself.

Fortunately, most girls dug the act.  They liked the alpha male, confident vibe he threw off, even when they knew it meant he probably wouldn’t end up with them.  It was one of those qualities that had helped him lead his old band Spawn to superstardom.  A confident
frontman
was worth his weight in gold.

God, he was glad he’d kept the sunglasses on.  He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  Her dress had thin shoulder straps, so he could appreciate her lightly tanned shoulders and
how
the dress tried to show just a little cleavage, but from here he couldn’t appreciate it as well as he
knew he
could close up.  And her makeup wasn’t overdone.  It was obvious she cared about her appearance, but she looked natural.

Riley took a deep breath. 
Had to stop thinking that way.
  Of course, he couldn’t expect a high school teacher to act like a groupie.  No way could he get that fine piece of ass in his bed tonight. 
Wasn’t happening.
  Had to stop getting himself worked up like that.

The PowerPoint was finally over and the jocks introduced Riley.  He slipped on his rock star mask while he slid the Ray-Bans off, hanging them in the front of his t-shirt.
 
Time for the show to begin.