Katie Fitzgerald
It was a beautiful cool Friday night under the lights, and it seemed like everyone in Green Glen had come out to watch the game. Carrie Silva, one of the algebra teachers, was managing the concession stand with a couple of honor society students. Many familiar faces approached the counter for hot chocolate: Sheila the bank teller, Carrie’s mechanic, Hank, her boss, Principal Franklin, and even her own mother, but Carrie could barely focus on their small talk. Her attention was on the bleachers.
On the top row, sitting next to a woman with long blonde hair was Liam Fox. Carrie knew it had been silly to volunteer for an activity based on the likelihood of running into the handsome janitor, but now she felt utterly foolish. Of course a guy who looked like that had a girlfriend. Of course his friendliness when he came to mop a tea spill in her classroom last week had been strictly professional.
“Miss Silva?” Amelia, one of the students, interrupted Carrie’s blatant spying with an urgent whisper. “We’re out of hot cocoa.”
Carrie snapped to attention. “What do you mean, we’re out? We only just started the third quarter!”
This was a crisis. In Green Glen, hot cocoa was as important to watching football as jerseys and foam fingers. Carrie couldn’t ever remember a time when the concession stand had run out.
Amelia held out a squat, blue cylinder. “I went to make this and realized it’s tea.”
Carrie grabbed the container. Her heart pounded as she studied the label. In all her dopey dreaming about seeing Liam tonight, she had grabbed the wrong mix from her pantry shelf. What a disaster.
As she contemplated what to do, Carrie allowed her eyes to wander to the bleachers again. She gasped when she realized Liam was gone. She had barely collected herself when she looked straight ahead and gasped again. He was coming this way, alone.
Carrie tried to look like someone who was in control of her situation rather than an idiot who was coming apart at the seams. She smiled as Liam approached. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Liam grinned, showing his perfect white smile and Carrie’s insides melted. “Can I have a small hot chocolate?”
It pained her, but Carrie shook her head. “Sorry. I accidentally brought tea instead of cocoa.” She hung her head.
“Tea again.” Liam shot a pointer finger at Carrie. “That seems to get you in trouble a lot. Ever think of giving it up?”
“Very funny. Too bad you can’t clean up this mess.”
Liam tapped out a rhythm with his fingers on the counter, then stopped abruptly, seemed to think of something, turned, and walked away. Carrie swore she felt a chill as he strode off into the night, back to the bleacher blonde. The scoreboard showed 36 for the visiting team and only 6 for the Green Glen Grizzlies, and she knew exactly how the home team felt.
Carrie reached around to pull down one of the price lists from the side of the concession window, then grabbed a red magic marker and wrote on the page’s blank side, HOT COCOA SOLD OUT. People would still be angry, but at least they’d have fair warning. She tacked the sign back up and waited to face the music.
Everyone who approached the counter during the remainder of the third quarter was noticeably disappointed, but most just ordered something else or returned to their seats empty-handed. Only Bart Henshaw, a history teacher with a chip on his shoulder, couldn’t resist making a scene.
“You had one job.” He leaned over the counter slightly, and Carrie and the students in the vicinity jumped back in discomfort. “And you couldn’t do it right.”
Carrie was about to defend herself when someone beat her to it.
“Come on, Henshaw!”
Carrie looked for the source of the voice, and almost couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Liam. Obviously using muscles that were well-concealed by his sweatshirt, Liam effortlessly carried a huge stainless steel hot drink dispenser and wove his way through the mingling students, faculty, and townspeople until he got to the concession stand.
“Watch it,” he said, elbowing Bart aside so he could hoist the metal container onto the counter. Unburdened, he continued. “Seriously, man, get out of here.” Then he stared at Bart until he shuffled off. “Honestly. Some people.”
Carrie was dumbfounded. “What did you–”
“I have keys to the school building and the kitchen, so I made some cocoa.” He shrugged like it was nothing, and Carrie could have kissed him.
“And you left your poor girlfriend alone all that time?” Carrie found this the least believable part of the story, that he’d leave a beautiful woman like that to take care of her problem.
“We were only on a first date,” Liam said, leaning casually against the counter. Carrie felt no urge to leap backward now. “It wasn’t going well, so she went home.”
“That’s too bad,” Carrie feigned sympathy, but she really wanted to pump a fist.
“I don’t know. I think it worked out okay.” Liam gave her that gorgeous grin again. “Turns out I have a crush on this math teacher who almost ruined Friday night football for the whole town. She’s really cute.”
“Well,” Carrie said, unable to stop herself from grinning. “If you ask her on a date, I’ll bet she’ll stick around the whole time.”
“Yeah?” Liam’s eyes danced. “I can’t wait.” Then, nodding toward the work area behind Carrie, he said, “Need some help back there in the meantime?”
Carrie nodded. “I would love that.”
As Liam came around the counter, a cheer went up over the field. The home team’s score increased, and this time Carrie shared in their triumph.
Katie grew up in a small town in New York’s Hudson Valley, but now lives in the Maryland suburbs with her husband and five kids.
Connect with Katie on Facebook, Instagram, Goodreads, or her website.
Spark Flash Fiction 