I always try to write a different version of Beth and Daryl in each new story and try something that I haven't tried before and this story will be no exception. I hope you enjoy the first chapter. Thank you!
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Chapter One.
When the Starbucks was built in town the year before, Beth Greene knew she was in trouble. She was a coffee addict and everyone – her family, her students and especially herself – knew it. She always had a thermos with her when she walked into her office in the morning from a pot she brewed every morning in her kitchen and in the afternoon, when the thermos was empty, she would choke down the sludge in the staff lounge that could hardly be considered coffee at all, and even though it was lukewarm and reminded her of mud, it did the trick in giving her the little kick she needed in the afternoon to get through the rest of her day.
To say that their town was small was the easiest way to describe it. Another was by saying that it was in the middle of nowhere. And both were reasons as to why it was shocking that Starbucks would actually choose it for their newest location. They had no other chains. Everything was independently owned except for the Wal-Mart, but that was forty miles away, two towns away. So when the new building in their tiny downtown district began construction and the "Coming Soon" sign was staked into the ground, Beth nearly drove off the road when she saw the glorious word. Starbucks. Starbucks coming soon. Here? In their town? And it wasn't a joke?
No, it definitely wasn't a joke. Now, Beth made a thermos of coffee in her kitchen every morning and then every day, for her lunch break, she left school and went straight to Starbucks. She knew it wasn't a healthy habit. Not to mention that it was an expensive one, but in her opinion, she only lived this life once and she was perfectly fine living it being completely addicted to coffee. She also felt a duty to help keep that Starbucks in business.
Beth took her lunch break at twelve-thirty every day, closing and locking her office for a half hour and walking the five blocks from the high school to the Starbucks, her tongue already tingling in anticipation with the cup of coffee that she was minutes away from getting.
Her heels tapped on the sidewalk as she walked, saying hello and smiling at everyone she passed, everyone greeting her in return. Seniors were permitted to leave campus for lunch and as she passed Rhee's Pizza Parlor – owned by her brother-in-law – Beth saw, through the large front window, many of her kids sitting at the tables inside, taking advantage of the all-you-can-eat pizza lunch buffet. Some saw her and waved at her and she smiled and waved back. Maybe she'd stop in for a quick slice on her way back.
It was a beautiful day in Cherry Hill, Georgia – population 3500 – with the warm sun shining down from a clear blue sky with not a single cloud in sight. And Beth was certain that the beautiful day aided to the good mood she was already in.
She absolutely loved this time of year because while the temperatures were still high, clinging to summer, she could also taste fall in the air, just around the corner. A new school year had begun three days earlier and she already had more than one senior come to her office, and even some juniors, ready to discuss potential colleges to apply to and Beth was more than ready for them. She had a bookshelf in her office, crammed to the hilt with college binders and folders of information from all over the country. Not every person was made to go to college, but Beth was determined to help every student she was responsible for – all 350 students in the Cherry Hill High School – find something that could fit their future perfectly. Most of her students always stayed in state, but she had had a few get scholarships to schools all over the Southern states, and she had one student two years ago go off to USC in California. And many of them, when back home on break, would come by the school to visit with her and let her know how their college experience was going.
And that made Beth happier than anything. Maybe even happier than a cup of coffee.
The door dinged as she pulled it open and stepped within the cold confines. There were a couple of other people sitting at the tables and no line at the counter. Beth strode right to it without looking up at the menu.
"Tall mocha Frappuccino, please. No whipped cream," she ordered, already pulling her wallet from her purse. She handed the money over once being given the total and they didn't take her name because there was no one else waiting for a drink.
As she stood, waiting for her coffee, Beth's eyes slid over the others that were in there. Andrea Harrison, a lawyer, was sitting at a table with her laptop open in front of her, and across from her, there was a man who looked like he might have been one of her clients. Cherry Hill was too small for a courthouse and every legal case was held in the next town over, Peachton, but Andrea was from here, and after being in Atlanta and even D.C. for a few years, she had come back and her office was here because, in her correct opinion, people in little towns needed lawyers, too.
And at the table near the back, Beth saw a man sipping a cup of coffee as he looked over a book open in front of him. She recognized him within a second as Daryl Dixon, the new history teacher at Cherry Hill High School. She hadn't gotten the opportunity to speak with him past the introductions that were made last week during teacher orientation. She knew that this was his first teaching job, but other than that, she knew nothing about him.
He was a handsome man. Beth took notice of that the first time she saw him last week, when the staff came together after summer break. He was older; if not already forty-years-old, he was about to turn it. Teachers were permitted to wear jeans – nice jeans – and she saw that he wore a pair today along with an untucked green button down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. She did her best to not let her eyes linger on his tanned arms and the visible muscles. His hair was dark and a bit long and his face was scruffy with unshaven hair, but he wore it all well.
"Here you go, Beth," the worker behind the counter said with a smile, handing Beth her cup of cold coffee, and Beth wondered if she should be concerned that she was already on a first-name basis with the staff here, but of course, she wasn't.
Beth went to the trash can, throwing out the paper wrapper encasing her straw and as she dunked the green straw through the hole in the lid, she couldn't seem to stop her eyes from returning to the man sitting in the back of the shop. She wondered if she should go say hello. After all, they were coworkers and as the guidance counselor, it was important for her to know the teachers and have good relationships with them since their students were her students. There was nothing wrong with her wanting to go up and say hello to the newest teacher at the school.
But Beth kept herself away. She didn't want to bother him. He was probably relishing in his lunch break away from the school for a half hour and she didn't want to impose upon him and ruin his peace and quiet. She'd make a point to stop by his classroom and reintroduce herself after the final bell today.
With her mind made up and pleased with her decision, Beth left the shop, taking her first sip of coffee through the straw and practically moaning as it hit her tongue and slid down her throat. Today was such a wonderful day.
…
Beth had never had dreams of becoming a high school guidance counselor. It had never been something she had even thought about or considered when she was younger. All she had wanted to do was play her guitar up on a stage somewhere and hadn't made plans for herself past that. And for a while, she had been able to do just that, but in the end, it wasn't the path she was meant to be on.
It was her older sister, Maggie, who told her that she would be an amazing counselor for kids; helping them figure out stuff that, at that age, they had no clue as to how even begin approaching. Since Beth had had no other plan, she thought it was a good one and went to college to get her degree. A few years had passed and she had been a guidance counselor for three years now and Maggie had been right. Not only did Beth absolutely love what she did, but she found that she was really good at it.
She had a small office off the main hall with a window that overlooked the courtyard where students went out to eat their lunches when the weather was welcoming enough and unless her door was closed, any student was welcome at any time.
When she returned from her lunch break, Frappuccino almost gone from the plastic cup, Beth smiled and greeted each student she passed as she headed towards her office. Her nameplate that said ELIZABETH GREENE with GUIDANCE COUNSELOR beneath that was bolted on the wall next to her door and on the door, there was a handmade name sign hanging that one of her art students last year had made for her as well as bumper stickers from every college her students had gotten admitted into taped to the door. The janitor would have killed her if she actually stuck them to it.
She unlocked the office door and no sooner had she sat down behind her desk that there was a knock. She smiled when she saw that it was Joe Morales, Cherry Hill's football coach.
"Hi Coach," Beth smiled at him and then gestured towards the empty chair on the other side of her desk. The slightly heavy-set Hispanic man immediately lowered himself down and took off his red Cherry Hill Pirates baseball cap, his fingers scratching across his forehead.
"Need a favor, Beth," he said.
"That was fast," Beth said with a slight laugh in her voice. "You usually wait until the second week of school before you come in here, asking for favors."
The man nearly smiled before he caught himself and seemed to remind himself that he was here on business. "I need you to talk with that new history teacher," he said.
Beth couldn't help but be surprised, her eyes widening slightly at the request. "Mr. Dixon? Why?"
"Clarence has come to talk with me. I guess it's the third day and Mr. Dixon has already given his classes a quiz. You need to talk with him," Joe said again.
Beth caught on immediately and this time, she frowned at him. "You know I won't do that. You know your football players need to study and do their work if they want to remain eligible to play. I'm not going to tell the teachers they need to pass them."
"I'm not asking you to tell the teachers to pass my players," Joe said as he sat up a little in his seat and leaned forward, closer to the desk. "I just need them to know that… well, there's always been an understanding from the teachers about this."
Beth sighed. This was one aspect of her job that she didn't agree with and never would. Joe was right. They didn't out right ask the teachers that they make sure the football players always passed their classes, but it was understood that the teachers should do everything they could do to make sure that the players remained eligible.
She knew it was Georgia and football was oftentimes far more important than academics and even in Cherry Hill, for being so small, their football team had always been good and the school board was determined to keep them that way.
If Joe didn't ask her to do this, Beth knew that Principal Grimes would come in here to discuss it with her sooner rather than later. Lori Grimes didn't necessarily agree with it either, but her hands were tied when it came to what everyone else wanted.
Beth sighed softly. "Fine. I'll speak with him after school today," she agreed.
Joe grinned and stood up. "Thanks, Beth." He put his baseball cap back on and left the office, whistling to himself; as if he had just accomplished something truly great.
Beth sighed again as she turned towards her computer. This wasn't exactly what she wanted her first conversation with Mr. Dixon to be about. Hi, Mr. Dixon. Welcome to Cherry Hill High. We're so happy to have you. Could you please give special treatment to all of your students who are on the football team? Thank you so much.
She picked up her plastic cup and leaning back in her chair, she finished the last of her coffee and did her best to enjoy it.
…
Cherry Hill High School was a two-story square brick building and when the town had first been established, it had housed all twelve grades. But as the town grew, an elementary school and junior high were all built as well. The school dated back to the early 1900s and was the only one of the three schools to not have air-conditioning – something all of the students and teachers liked to gripe about no matter how many fans a classroom had.
The history rooms were located on the second floor and Beth waited for the final bell of the day to ring and the students to flood out the doors before she left her office and climbed the stairs upwards. Mr. Dixon's classroom was located down the west hallway, room 205. She walked towards the open door and stopped in the doorway, seeing him standing at the chalkboard, erasing something he had written. He saw her from the corner of his eye almost immediately and turned his head to look at her. She gave him what she hoped was a warm smile because now that she was close to him – the first time since last week that she had been – she felt a fluttering in her stomach that made her feel like an idiot.
"Hello, Mr. Dixon. I'm Beth," she said, stepping into the classroom with her right hand outstretched in offering.
Mr. Dixon set the eraser down and wiped his hands on his jeans before stepping forward, meeting her right hand with his own. "Ms. Greene," he said with a nod of his head and even though it was a small school, she couldn't help but feel surprised that he had remembered who she was. "Wha' can I do for you?"
She noticed how rough his voice sounded and yet, there was a gentleness to it and she wondered how the man managed to have both at the same time.
"Beth, please," she remembered herself and continued smiling.
"Then 'm Daryl." he said and she felt herself able to smile a bit easier now.
"Daryl," she repeated as if she was testing how the name felt on her tongue. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you about something."
"Am I in trouble?" He asked.
"Oh, goodness, no!" Beth quickly assured him. "And even if you were, you'd be seeing Lori to come here to talk with you, not me."
"A'right," Daryl said with a single nod of his head. "I'll 'member that. So what do you need to talk with me 'bout?"
Beth exhaled a sigh. "Something I hate," she admitted to him and she wondered why she had. She turned and returned to the door, closing it, before looking back to him. "So… I heard you gave a quiz already."
Daryl's brow furrowed a little and she knew that he was probably wondering how on earth she knew that. She didn't blame him for wondering that.
"Yeah," he answered slowly. "Assigned 'em to read somethin' on the first day and I wanted to quiz 'em to make sure they actually did."
"What was it?" Beth asked, unable to help but be a little curious.
"Booker T. Washington's "Atlanta Compromise" speech," he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his desk behind him, keeping his eyes on her, waiting patiently for her to let him know what this was all about.
Beth remembered learning that from her own history class – but in college, not in high school; given in 1895, a strategy of black response to southern racial tensions and was widely regarded as one of the most significant speeches in American history. And now, Beth felt even more uncomfortable having to talk with this man about what she had come up here for. And Joe better bet his butt that she would talk with him next about why his players had a hard time being quizzed over something that was so important. She'd be sure to question Clarence about it as well. A young black man living in Georgia needed to learn history like that.
She looked at the man in front of her and she was not going to think about how good looking he was and how she would probably have a hard time concentrating if she was a student and this man was her teacher. He wasn't handsome in the conventional way, but there was a rough-and-tumble look to him that she very much liked. And that was surprising to her because all of her previous boyfriends had definitely been clean-cut and had looked nothing like Daryl Dixon.
It didn't matter, of course, that she found him to be good-looking. She could think so in the privacy of her mind, but she would never be able to speak it out loud. There were rules for the staff of Cherry Hill High School and one of them was a particularly big one. No dating between staff members. No nothing.
So, she couldn't even have a hot, meaningless one-night stand with this man in front of her even if they both wanted it.
Beth felt the back of her neck flush from just that thought.
"Coach Morales came to speak with me earlier," Beth began. "He's our football coach and he…" she found her words trailing off when she saw the smirk slowly spreading across his face. "What?" She asked him.
"Nothin'," Daryl shrugged. "And he wha'?"
Beth looked at him for another moment; looked at that smirk. "You already know," she then guessed and didn't know if she felt relief that she didn't have to tell him or awful that she had to come up here to tell him at all.
"Teach more than one of 'em and they were all bitchin' when I handed the quizzes out."
"They're good kids," Beth was quick to defend them and it was true. They were all good kids in this school – whether they were athletes or not. "They really are. The players have just gotten used to receiving a certain treatment from teachers."
Daryl was quiet for a moment, letting that roll around in his head. "No offense, Ms. Greene, but that's bullshit," he said and she was shocked – only for a moment – at the language. She hadn't been expecting that.
"I completely agree," she nodded. "And I hate that I had to come talk with you about this." She was fidgeting with her fingers and realizing this, she forced herself to stop. She hung her hands at her sides, curled into loose fists.
"Then why did you?" He asked, and his head was tilted ever so slightly to the side as if genuinely curious with her response.
Beth shrugged. "Winning football games is important to the school and I'm employed by the school." She sighed. "Therefore, winning football games is important to me."
"And me, too?" He asked.
"I'm afraid so," she gave him a small nod with a matching small smile. "It's just the way it is here sometimes."
Daryl was quiet for another moment, letting that register in his mind. "Thanks for tellin' me," he said as he pushed himself off the desk. He turned and his desk was covered in stacks of papers, but he seemed to find the one he was searching for with ease. He turned back towards Beth, holding the piece of paper out towards her, and Beth stepped forward, taking it from him.
Looking at it, she saw that it was a graded quiz from one of his classes and looking at the name, she saw that it belonged to one of the team's fullbacks. He had gotten a D.
"So, I gotta change that?" Daryl asked.
Beth felt a dryness in her throat. She couldn't ask him to do that and she wouldn't expect him to. What was fair for one student had to be fair for all of the students and Daryl was just trying to do his job and teach his students. It wasn't his fault if some of his students didn't study or do the assignments and how could she possibly ask someone to not do their job? Especially someone who taught high school students Booker T. Washington and history that was actually important to them?
She shook her head. "No. No, you don't." She handed him back the paper. "I'm sorry for all of this. So sorry. Coach always gets me to do this with teachers because I'm the sweet one and I go along with it from a misplaced sense of duty. I.. I'm sorry about all of this," she said again. "I don't agree with it. I really don't."
Daryl nodded at that, but she wasn't sure if he really believed her or not and he turned, placing the paper back down onto one of the piles on his desk.
Beth found herself standing there and although she knew the conversation was over, she had a hard time getting her feet to carry her from the room. She looked at the man and found herself wanting to ask him questions about himself and get to know him. Even if nothing could happen between them, they could at least be friends. There was something about Daryl Dixon that was interesting to her – and it wasn't because he was a handsome man and the school definitely didn't have that many handsome male teachers to choose from.
Not that Beth was choosing any of them. Against the rules and all of that. And she understood the rule. Coworkers who dated one another led to complications that just weren't needed among the other staff.
She told herself to just leave the classroom, but she seemed unable to physically do it and the longer she lingered, the more she felt her embarrassment grow. She could just imagine how horrible the first impression was he had of her now and that didn't settle right with her, because she wasn't like that. She didn't believe in giving any student – no matter who they were – special treatment and ever since her first day working here, she hadn't believed in it. But, unfortunately, it was just one of those things she had to turn a blind eye to it happening sometimes and hope that the school never got in trouble for it.
Daryl went back to the chalkboard and picked up the eraser to resume what he had been doing before she came in, but he didn't get back to it. Instead, he looked at her.
"Was there somethin' else, Ms. Greene?" He asked.
Beth felt a heaviness in her chest she couldn't explain.
"No. That was all, Mr. Dixon." She did her best to give him a smile, but she knew she was failing miserably at it and she turned, finally able to leave his classroom.
She wished she had talked to him earlier in Starbucks.
…
"Aunt Bethy!"
If there was anything in this world that could get her to smile besides coffee and her guitar, it was her niece, Charlotte.
Three-years-old and the daughter of Glenn and Maggie Rhee, Charlotte had that bright-eyed innocence that almost all children still had at this young age; that the world was a truly wonderful place and always would be. Beth had always been a little jealous of that, but tonight, she was downright envious.
"Hi, pretty lady," Beth greeted her niece as she always did upon stepping into her sister and brother-in-law's house and stooped down to scoop the girl into her arms. She peppered her cheek with kisses and Charlotte giggled.
"Hi, doodlebug," her father, Hershel, said with a smile, pulling himself from the couch in the living room and coming over to greet her as well. "How was your day?"
"Fine," Beth answered and Hershel looked at her, not believing her; and for good reason. "Just school stuff," she then relented but not by much. "Are Maggie and mom in the kitchen?" She asked.
"Get in here, Beth!" Maggie shouted from the kitchen.
Beth smiled as she passed Charlotte from her arms into her grandpa's and walked down the short hallway into the kitchen in the back of the house, where her mom, Annette, and Maggie both were, putting the finishing touches on the dinner they had made that evening. Well, that Annette had made. Maggie had been married to Glenn for four years and in four years, she had been receiving cooking lessons from Annette. And no one would say it to her, but they didn't see much of an improvement. But Maggie being Maggie, she stuck with it no matter how little talent she seemed to have for anything that involved the kitchen and invited the family over for dinner at least once a week.
"Hi, sweetie," Annette said, dusting her hands off and giving Beth a hug. "How was school?" She asked.
"Fine," Beth gave the same answer she had given her daddy and like Hershel, Annette gave her a look because fine was such a loaded answer and they all knew it. Maggie was looking at her, too, waiting for her to tell them the truth and Beth just shrugged her shoulders, swiping a carrot from the counter. She took a bite off and took her time crunching on it. "Just school stuff," she then repeated herself.
She knew she could probably tell them. She had complained about it when she had first gotten the job at the high school and her older brother, Shawn Greene, had played football and they all knew how important football was to Cherry Hill so they all knew about the favoritism sometimes that was bestowed upon them. But Hershel and Annette had made sure that Shawn actually did his work and earned the grades that he deserved. Not every parent of a student was like that.
So, if she told them what had happened today with Coach Morales, they would understand. But she couldn't tell them about the new history teacher, Mr. Dixon. They would find out she was interested in a man and would instantly begin asking her what colors she wanted at her wedding because that's just how her family was.
Anyway, how could she be interested in him? It was against school policy to be interested in him. Besides, even if she was and it wasn't against the rules, it wouldn't matter. He probably didn't think that highly of her anyway right about now. And Beth was doing her hardest to not try and think of why that was bothering her as much as it was.
She knew that it obviously was because she had always had this need to please people and to make sure that everyone always liked her. It was important to her that everyone liked her – even if she knew that it was an impossibility for everyone to like the same people – and Maggie and Shawn, both, had told her to just forget it when she got hung up on someone's thoughts and feelings towards her that she thought were less than savory. But if making oatmeal raisin cookies in elementary school for the bully, Randall, which in turn had gotten him to stop his bullying ways – at least for a bit – had worked, Beth knew she could get Mr. Dixon liking her. At least a little bit more than he probably did right now.
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Thank you very much for reading and please take a moment to review!