Caught Running Read Free

you figure that? What background?” he asked, his voice higher than usual.
    "You're male and big enough to keep the boys in check,” Tom said before hurrying on. “And you did study anatomy and physiology, did you not? Trainer."
    Finally becoming aware that his jaw was hanging open, Brandon snapped it shut. He stared blankly at Tom a bit longer and then rubbed both hands over his face. “Anything else, Tom?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
    "Brandon,” Tom said softly. “I know this isn't your thing, and I am truly sorry. But I know you understand that the school needs you to be a team player. It's all for the kids."
    The science teacher sighed, and his shoulders relaxed. It was the one thing that was unshakable in him and dammit, Tom knew it. Brandon would do anything for the kids. It was why he got up at 4:45 a.m. and drove 40 minutes to come in at six o'clock to tutor, a task almost all other teachers avoided like the plague. “All right, Tom,” he agreed wearily.
    "Thank you, Brandon,” Tom responded sincerely as he stood and extended his hand over the desk. “And unlike the tutoring, you do get paid extra for the coaching,” he added optimistically.
    Brandon chuckled and stood to shake Tom's hand. “Well, that's something. I'm guessing the health class is already in session with a sub?"
    "Jake Campbell has been doing double duty on the health class and senior phys ed until we could find someone permanent. And he's the man you need to talk to about baseball,” Tom answered. “Hey, didn't you two graduate close together?"
    "Yeah, same year.” Brandon said with a small nod. “You still taught geometry then,” he added with a smirk.
    "I still had all my hair then, too,” Tom shot back with a quick grin. “You want me to have someone track Jake down after the class is over?” he offered with a gesture to the public announcement system in the outer office.
    Brandon grimaced. “No. I'll wander out to the gym. I think I know where his office is,” he said, squinting a little at the school map on the wall.
    "If you find him in his office then good on ya,” Tom laughed with a dismissive wave. “Kid never could stay in one spot even when he was younger. Thanks again, Brandon. I won't forget it."
    Nodding, Brandon headed out and turned toward the athletic complex, walking through the empty halls, his rubber-soled loafers not making much sound. He found the hallway of offices and checked the doors until he found one with a “Coach Campbell” sign tacked up in the window, but the office was closed and dark inside. The science teacher turned around and headed to the gym itself. There were older kids sitting in the bleachers and some shooting baskets, but no teacher in sight. Brandon frowned in consternation before belatedly recalling what Tom had said about health taking his planning period and moving planning to the hoped-for A.P. class slot in second block. Jake was pulling double duty with the health class. Brandon figured this must be the coach's senior P.E. class, left unsupervised as he watched over the freshmen. So the science teacher made his way to the health class and checked his watch. Five minutes until afternoon announcements.
    Inside the classroom located just off the gymnasium complex, Jake watched a ball of wadded up paper fly through the air and hit the rim of the wastebasket. It teetered there, seeming to almost cling to the plastic trash bag. Jerome—freshman, wrestler—leaned sideways from the table seven feet away and blew on it frantically as Jake chuckled quietly. The wad of paper wavered some more and then fell with an anti-climactic plop onto the ground just beside the trash can.
    "Aw, snap."
    "Oh ho!” Jake shouted with glee. “And it's a dollar to teacher for the brick shot.” He laughed as he held his hand out and made the universal gesture of ‘gimme my money.'
    "Man,” Jerome whined as he dug into his pocket and pulled out four quarters. He got up and trudged over