Katrina says: May 14, 2010 at 6:21 am

Erm, Esi, whatever happened to this? I was eagerly awaiting the next prompt this week. And who won the prize from the vault?

Amy Valentini says: May 3, 2010 at 3:13 pm

I’m with y’all, I’ve been checking back often … if we don’t do an Avon FanLit then maybe we should do this fun exercise every week instead of every two weeks … how ’bout it, Esi?? BTW, who one the prize from the vault?

Fotini says: May 1, 2010 at 8:58 am

“Mrs Ferdison? Mr Stewart Gayles would like to see you”

Eliza cleared her glasses and nodded indifferently to let him in. She kept staring at the paper pile that waited for her signature with despair, as if she was unconsciously asking herself “when am I going to finish up with all these?” Preoccupied with her inner thoughts, she hardly noticed that a man had entered the room.

“Oh my Gosh! Liz! It is you!” Stewart was very happily surprised to meet her again. However, Eliza felt somehow annoyed by his unreasonable intimacy.

“Excuse me? I’m Mrs Ferdison to you, Mr…” She couldn’t even remember his name.

“Yeah, right. Whatever. Oh, Liz you haven’t changed at all!” said he contently.

“Haven’t I? That’s interesting.” she replied abstracted, still trying to remember his name.

“Of course you haven’t. Gee, I was told that you were teaching here, but this? I mean, look at you! “Mrs Nerdison”, the principal of Green Valley’s High School! Wow!”

“What? I’m sorry, but are we supposed to know each other?”

“Come on! You can’t be serious. You are kidding me, right?”

“Mr Gayles” she finally remembered it “do I look funny to you?”

“Why, no…”

“Or maybe you think that I have no other business to do than fooling around.”

“Of course, not. But…”

“Well, instead of insulting me or playing childish games, please come directly to the point of your visit.”

“I see. You are still mad at me. I just thought that after all these years… I mean, we are grown ups now.”

“Mr Gayles, I’m out of patience and time. I’m afraid you have to go. I would gladly escort you to the door, but you see I have this tiny problem with my legs. They don’t obey me, since that accident…”

“Oh my Gosh! Liz, you are sitting on a wheel-chair!”

“Good point, Mr Gayles. Are you always so observant?”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It was the desk. I couldn’t see. I’m so sorry…”

“No, Mr Gayles. I am sorry. I totally ran out of time and you have to leave.”

“Oh, ok. Maybe I’ll pass by tomorrow.”

“Or never.” she murmured “Goodbye Mr Gayles.”

“Goodbye Liz.”

Stewart left puzzled and sad. He certainly didn’t see that coming. “Liz is on a wheel-chair” he kept telling to himself all along the school corridor.

Eliza approached the window. There he was, slowly walking towards the yard exit. “What an annoying man!” she uttered in relief.

Amy Valentini says: April 30, 2010 at 3:54 pm

I know what you mean, Nancy … two weeks is going to be a long time to wait to do another one … it’s a great writing exercise, it really works our imaginations and it’s wonderful to see other writers’ take on things. It’s also great to get feedback from our peers. There’s a lot of talent on this blog. Great job everyone, it’s been a lot of fun. Have a happy weekend.

Elaine Stevens says: April 30, 2010 at 5:48 am

Thanks Amy.

Elaine Stevens says: April 29, 2010 at 7:39 pm

I really enjoy reading these. So many different takes from the same prompts. Great job one and all.

Agnes says: April 29, 2010 at 2:01 pm

(sorry this is so long – i was getting lost in back-story…)

Taylor Blythe made her way through the stadium’s concrete hall after the game, smiling and nodding at thrilled parents and students as she went. She floated on a cloud of her team’s achievement – they hadn’t won, but a tie game between the A-list Tigers farm team and her high school boys was pretty damn good. She was incredibly proud, even if she hadn’t expected any less from the DCI Dolphins.

She had had doubts about the exhibition game initially – the invitation had arrived out of the blue without ceremony or explanation. The mystery had set off warning bells for her, and she had almost turned down the offer, but for the final sentence of the informal letter. “Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on them,” it had said. Her school had the top team in their division – they knew how to play baseball. She had let the taunt get the better of her. But the benefits to her team were also obvious – not only did the game show off the high school boys’ skills against more experienced men, but opportunities might arise for minor league drafts or possibly even exposure to major league scouts.

It had happened before…to him, the unmentionable. She still hated the sound of his name and refused to say it even in her head. She’d had to hear his name over and over after he’d been drafted from college and shot through the majors with his .365 batting average. Even if she had repeated it to herself all through school, that torment ended on her last sorry day of high school, spent unwillingly locked in the girls’ bathroom. She flushed with embarrassment at remembering she had actually hoped he would be the one to rescue her, even while knowing in her heart that he’d been busy feeling up the evil girl who had put her there. God, she had hated that vile excuse of a woman, and the horrible influence the bitch had held over the school’s most beautiful boy. A boy who stood by and watched his girlfriend trip her in front of the entire school during graduation. Taking on the position of principal at the school they had all graduated from had turned hearing his name into an almost hourly occassion, but she had somehow managed to make it through. And now that he had been unceremoniously dumped from his team amid a torrent of controversy, she wouldn’t have to try.

A crowd gathered outside the men’s locker room. She felt an obligation to thank the team for inviting the school to play such a prodigious game, and a need to satisfy her curiosity about the source of the invitation. She hesitated behind the bodies of eager students, until the door to the change room opened a crack and her team’s star pitcher noticed her hiding in the crowd.

“Get in here, Dr. Blythe,” he shouted. “We stink but we won’t bite!”

A grinning crowd of students and parents parted to let her into the locker room. The kid was right – the whole room reeked of musky sweat and soapy showers. The pheronmone cocktail mixed odours that sent radar tingling across her skin. On the other side of the room the men from the farm team, mid-change out of their uniforms unifoms, jostled each other for bragging rights over their younger opponents. A few of them noticed her and gave her an approving once-over. She scanned their faces for some kind of friendly introduction, finding none until her gaze eventually landed on the upturned jean-clad tight ass of a player elbow-deep in the drink cooler. A few of her students were gathered around him and when they noticed her staring at him they started giggling. Even the boys.

* * * * * * * * * *

Will Reed heard the excited kids around him suddenly break out in nervous laughter. He grabbed the cold soda he’d been fishing for and spun around to see what was so funny. Standing in front of him was the woman he’d been hoping to run into – the reason he’d invited his old high school to play with his new team, despite his underlying humiliation at being on it. Her look of admiration – or was he imagining that? – vanished and her face fell at the moment of recognition. She said nothing, which was about how much she said when he’d known her in school. Everything else about her had changed.

“Will Reed. We went to school together. Really glad you could accept our invitation to play today. Your team played well. Awesome pitching.” He held his hand out in re-introduction, although he was pretty sure she remembered him.

“They’re good kids,” she replied, lifting her hand slowly to meet his as if she was having to force it. Her icy green eyes challenged him to deny her statement, but he had no wish to. He was hoping to talk her into letting him fill the school’s empty coaching slot. He needed the extra income and Taylor had turned the school into a baseball beacon for every teenager in the district. He’d always admired her strength, even though he’d never felt comfortable telling her. She had always stayed clear of him in school. He smiled at Taylor but she looked away.

“Are you drinking beer?” She accused, staring at the cold can in his hand. The anger that she flashed at him carried more weight than a discretion-breach might warrant. Even if he’d made one.

“In a way, I guess,” Will laughed, looking at the label and hoping to diffuse her fury. “It’s roo–”

“Oh, I knew this was a bad idea,” she fumed before he finished his sentence, and stormed out of the locker room. The entire room went silent, staring at her wake.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Reed,” piped up the school team’s star pitcher. “She’s hot for you.”

Will wasn’t so sure. But he was going to have to change her mind.

Jen says: April 28, 2010 at 8:34 pm

Elisabeth’s heels clicked down the hallway as if tapping out the rhythm to an angry song. As she turned the corner toward the lunchroom where she fully expected to find the troublemakers starting another food fight, she slammed into a hard masculine chest, jostling her glasses so that they slid down her nose just a bit. She put up a finger to push them back into place and said, “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” the man responded, grasping her shoulders to steady her.

Elisabeth looked up from the stack of papers she clutched to her chest and straight into the eyes of her high school crush. “Jonathan. What the hell are you doing here?”

Jonathan held her gaze for a long moment. “To sign a student. Surely you must have heard by now about my fall from grace.”

She shook her head swiftly, knocking a tendril of hair from her tight chignon. “I didn’t. I didn’t even know you were back in town.”

“I am. I’m the new coach for the Sounds. There’s a senior here who’s showing a lot of promise. I’m here to recruit him.”

“Michael Sullivan.”

“That’s the one.” Jonathan paused. “Elisabeth, it’s been a long time–”

Elisabeth stepped back from his grasp. “I have to go. It’s good to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Elisabeth, wait–”

“Gotta run! So good to see you again, Jonathan.”

She nearly ran down the hallway toward the lunchroom, desperate to hide from his searching gaze. He was exactly as she remembered: stormy blue eyes that saw straight to her soul, mahogany hair she ached to run her hands through, and a body as hard as a rock. She’d pined for him all through high school, and he hadn’t even known she was alive. Well, she didn’t think he did, but he obviously remembered her name. That was certainly a surprise since he’d had enough girls lined up in front of his house to form his own fan club.

And Elisabeth was just another groupie. She would have done anything for him, damn him. She nearly had.

Amy Valentini says: April 28, 2010 at 4:48 pm

The air was filled with all of the excitement that accompanied opening day at the baseball field. The Dukes, Bridgeton’s minor league team was ready for the season opener or so Coach Tom Billings had told the local paper. As the stands filled with fans for both teams, Angie Norman worked her way along the front looking for a prime viewing spot. As the principal of the local high school, she knew most of the people already sitting in the stands and waved hello to most. As she raised her hand to give a wave to one of her former students, Angie tripped over something beneath her feet. Her clumsiness sent her sprawling onto the ground. Nearly everyone in the stands gasped as she fell. Several people leaped from their seats to come to her rescue but as Angie pushed herself up from the dirt, she felt strong hands take hold of each arm.

“Wow, that was quite a tumble you took.” A deep voice exclaimed from above her. “You alright?! You’re not hurt are you?”

Angie looked up into bright sunlight unable to see the face that went with the deep voice that seemed somehow familiar to her. Suddenly, the bright light was blocked out and a handsome smiling face came into view. Angie recognized that face and that smile for it belonged to Tom Billings. It had to be him of all people that came to aid, she thought with a long sigh.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you.” Angie got to her feet with Tom’s assistance. She quickly brushed the dirt from the front of her cashmere sweater and jeans. “More embarrassed than hurt, I think.”

“Do I know you?” Tom asked looking her over more thoroughly than he should have. He liked what he saw. A pretty face, full mouth and body that he wouldn’t mind getting to know better.”

“Actually, I know who you are but I don’t think you would remember me.” Angie replied, a blush rising on her cheeks as she felt Tom’s eyes wash over her body and face.

“If you jog my memory, I’ll bet I do remember you.” Tom smiled then added. “Believe me, you’d be hard to forget.”

“We went to high school together.” Angie answered, suddenly aware that everyone around them was keenly listening to their conversation. “I’m the principal there now.” Angie presented her hand to Tom. “Angie Norman.”

“Angie Norman? Hmmm … doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid.” Tom accepted her hand and barely shook it but held it in his longer than was needed. “Did you look this good in high school?”

Angie glanced around her. Her students, their parents and some of her staff were all sitting within earshot and it had become quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Angie rolled her eyes wishing she could will herself somewhere else at this moment but answered truthfully. “No, I didn’t but you look as good as you did then.”

“Well, I’m not in as good a shape that’s for sure. Destroyed my knee first season out in the majors so now I’m coaching.” Tom said, still holding her hand. “I’m coaching the Dukes, in fact. You here to see us play today?” Of course, she’s here to see the game, he thought. “Here let me get you a great seat, we wouldn’t want you to miss a single play.”

Tom led Angie to a seat right behind the dugout. Angie could feel everyone’s eyes on her but at the same time felt a thrill of excitement that Tom Billings, the guy that every girl wanted to date was still holding her hand and wanted her to sit behind the dugout which would put her very near to him. She knew come Monday morning she would be the talk of the school but right now with Tom smiling down at her as she took her seat, Angie was on top of the world.

Nancy says: April 28, 2010 at 2:51 pm

Ok, here is mine.

In the outer office, the secretary and a resource teacher dealt with the students lined across the counter wanting absentee notes filled or appointments with the guidance counselor. Behind her closed door, Nina Leggett could hear the orchestrated chaos of a Friday morning at James Madison High, home of the Patriots. To add to the fray, today happened to be Career Day where local businesses from dog walkers to the crème de la crème, a local senator for the state, would entertain the students explaining the importance of education to their positions. By far, the name that caught everyone’s attention, including hers, this fine spring day – Logan Cash.
She closed her eyes and recalled his cocky, self-confident style. Nothing seemed to faze him. He’d spent his school hours entertaining the cheerleaders or making fun of those deemed less important. She shifted on her feet at the memory. Life to Logan was a game, one that he played well. A jock, Logan had more time to play sports than to open books. His senior year, he’d crossed swords with the matriarch of United States history, the formidable Miss Ann Harvey. On the verge of failure, not his parents, the coach, or even the principal could stop the impending doom of failure.
That’s when they’d come to her. The Committee for No Good Reason, she’d called them. The coach, the principal, and his father standing with their hats in hand as she opened the door to the apartment Nina shared with her mother. Each of them implored her to help, campaigning for their golden boy, the one that would put Suffolk, Virginia on the map. His father owned a car dealership. He’d promised her the use of a demonstrator car so she could make tutoring.
Nina shook her head. She should have turned them down for all the good it seemed to have done. However, like any other girl in James Madison, she’d been madly in love-. No, she thought, infatuated would be the better word. She had been infatuated with him. Everything he did seemed to end up front page news. Well, almost everything. Nina looked down at the single gold band she wore on her finger as a reminder. She’d been able to keep one thing off the front pages.
She pressed a manicured nail through the slats of the mini blinds that opened to the front parking lot. Already the circus had begun. A maroon SUV pulled into the parking lot. Before the occupant could emerge, news reporters, cameramen, and autograph seekers rushed forward to swarm the vehicle. The door opened. Her heart pounded against her ribs as a familiar head covered with dark curls came into view.
Damn, couldn’t he at least be bald, she thought. Suddenly, it seemed as if fifteen years faded away. The sun caught his profile and she watched as his lips pulled back along his strong jaw accenting the dimples in his cheeks. The grin, still as self-confident as ever, made her shake her head. Light bulbs flashed. She heard the doors on the front of the school bang. More people gathered around the car as a horn blared from someone trying to get through. “Like a moth to the flame,” she said in a wry comment and picked up the walkie-talkie on her desk.
“Mr. Sanders.” She spoke in to the receiver. “Meet me out front please. We have a problem.”
A problem she’d rather not confront. Static ceased and she heard the janitor’s voice. “I’m on my way. Coach Brandon just told me who was here.”
Yes, he was here, in all his glory. That summed it up rather well. “Humph,” she grumbled and picked up her keys to the building. She was no longer that little geeky girl with the crush, who’d lost her heart along with other things to the stud of the year. 1995 faded and this was a new century and a new woman, one that Logan Cash couldn’t make feel like a fool. Gone was little Nina Dawn Leggett. Before him would stand the principal of James Madison High and if Logan wanted to stay, he’d have to play by her rules like it or not. Deep down, she prayed he wouldn’t like it. If he left, it would solve a whole lot of problems she’d rather not open.
Walking through the office, she pushed open the front doors and made her way to the edge of the sidewalk. Just like old times, Logan was leaning against the car, talking about baseball. She stood and listened waiting for him to conclude his statements.
***
“I’d love to have spent another year in the majors, but as you know, an injury like a rotator cuff is hard to come back from.” Logan Cash smiled at the woman standing a few feet from him with a microphone shoved in his face. He’d heard these questions before. His answers were nearly instinctive. Yeah, he’d torn his rotator cuff, what he’d failed to mention was that it was due to a motor cycle accident and the woman riding with him had lost so much more. A kid pushed through handing him his glove.
“Could you sign this, please, Mr. Cash? You’re one of my heroes.”
“Sure kid,” he pulled the gangly young man by the arm and had him step next to him while uncapping the permanent marker. He wanted to make sure the camera caught his good Samaritan act. It might help his bid to get back into the majors. From the corner of his eye, he caught the glimpse of a heavyset man rushing toward him wearing a pair of blue pants and a tan shirt, – the janitor. Good thing the kid came forward now. “Here kid.” He shoved the glove back at the star stuck teenager.
“Can you both hold the glove?” a photographer called out.
“Sure,” Logan replied. “Turn around and smile kid, this is your big day.”
The burst of light bulbs nearly blinded him as photographer after photographer stepped up to snap the day’s headline. He was basking in his element when she spoke up.
“Excuse me Mr. Cash.”
That cold tone was one he’d never forget. He turned and a pair of steely eyes to match the blue of a northern winter stared back.
“I hate to break up this impromptu social, but my students have an hour of class before the rotation starts.”
A chorus of groans met her words.
“Education is important,” Logan spoke loudly, hoping they’d all hear. “Without an education, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I’ll see you all on the ball field in a bit. Go to class, I’m not going to be responsible for holding students in after school detention.”
The crowd dispersed. The cameras left and the microphones faded as everyone moved toward the building. Everyone, except of course, her. He pushed away from his SUV and stepped onto the sidewalk. She’d grown since the last time he’d seen her. Gone were the braces and the long braided ponytail. Before him stood a woman filled with the curves to delight, if he could just get past the icy exterior.
Turn on the charm, Logan, my boy, his inner devil whispered rearing his head. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Nina.”
“Ms. Leggett,” she replied in a detached tone. “Mr. Cash, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get you to the ball field.”
She turned and began walking away without him. He quickly caught up and took hold of her elbow.
“I remember were the ball field is.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Don’t you?”
If looks could kill, Logan was sure an undertaker would be already called. Her fingers peeled his from the side of her arm. “Mr. Cash, you are here to do a Career Day presentation, not to practice the next line you’d use in a bar.”
His mouth gaped.
“Mr. Sanders,” she called out and raised a hand. “Show Mr. Cash to his place and when he’s through escort him back to his car.” She turned, her eyes narrowing with revulsion. “We wouldn’t want to keep you from your next interview, would we?”
Logan Cash watched her walk away. The smooth lines of her skirt swaying to the turn of her hips and he knew he had to see her again.

Katrina says: April 28, 2010 at 2:46 am

Josie scanned the sparse crowd lounging on the bleachers along the third-base line. She recognized several of her seniors, but that wasn’t a problem. It was a Saturday, after all.

The one she was looking for would be in uniform. Eighteen years old and a promising writer, he’d just dropped out of school after being “recruited” for this local team.

She snorted. Recruited to the minor leagues.

What a waste of a brain.