As the day concluded, my fundraising team convene

t from the PTA progressi

arents. Not much change, she mentioned. We still have an offer fo

te. "What about the income

, Lisa replied, "The profit isn't sub

income and expenditure from

ly. You'll have it b

r, I inquired, "Any progress

ple are holding onto their penni

goals. The 'Spring Fair' seems to be our only hope. And despite not wanting to put all

es,' and they're loaning us the equipment

What abo

hot dogs. Sammy's is donating the meat we need. We also have promises f

gh the room. Grinning at my

e day. I'm organizing a roster for various stations an

It takes cash to care," I remarked ruefully. "But for what

you. It's not something we've discussed before, but wha

ilted my head

about those who were here before? Those successful individuals who are

nsidered them much, especially for a middle school. People are often

contacts for every graduate in the last ten to twenty years. We even have a few heavy h

presented a few

st you to be ah

act list. I've even drafted a template email that we could use." She pulled another stack of papers

ed the sheets

y's document. Impressed, I raised my head and commen

to crafting the draft ema

ntent, Stacey re

r. While it baked, I worked on drafting the email for the fundraiser. The evening news played in the background, a monotonous stream of negative and disheartening stories. My attention wavered, considerin

ned, and my han

tein-Bart Innovative Software, was today released after

leaving the court during his trial. Memories I had kept at bay all weekend no

ouring every detail. Noting that his eyes were still the same brilliant blue, and his black hair remained thick and alluring, but tiny lines around his eyes had appeared. His mouth, once ready to break into a

med on the back of my arms. I stared at a blank wal

s out o

a

s out o

oman. That was my reminder to have nothing to do with Zade, or any man, for that matter. It was my reminder that men were cheats and liars who couldn't be trusted. Ever. I allowe

of prison.

he once-delicious macaroni and cheese, which I had anticipated, now tasted like cardboard, settling

glass and bega

was always

d review it before printing it for submission. Before going to bed, I checked

as though I had been dealt a blow. There, just above Randy Hellfire, was the email and contact

ted game was the

interested in more than a casual friendship, but I had never felt that way about him. He was always meant to be in the friend zon

s knew he w

t the prospect of interacting with Zade in any way, but

to sta

l address in my draft email. Taking a deep breath, I then cop

d myself. He was nothing to me. If the children could benefit from him, why not? Anyway, he would probably

it any more though

n't respond. That would be the bes