“My mom says someday this will be unimportant,” Misty said.

“Maybe so,” Iris said. “But right now, to you, it’s very important. I’m right here anytime you need to talk about it, do a feelings dump, get it off your chest....”

Misty laughed. “I don’t know if I can spare it,” she said, looking down at her chest.

“Yeah, you’ll be all right. So, do you have time to help me? If you don’t think you do, I understand. And if you start and it’s just too much, you can stop.”

“Yeah, I can probably do it. So, Miss McKinley, when your best friend dropped you, what did you do?”

“Oh, I was pretty miserable for a while. Seemed like it took me a long time to get past it and even when I didn’t think about it every day, I still never forgot it. It made me very fussy about friends. I’m cautious—I have no interest in being hurt. It’s worked out all right—I’ve made some wonderful friends.”

“Thanks,” Misty said. “So you want me tomorrow?”

“I can make that work if you can,” she said. “Have you ever been a student assistant before?”

Misty shook her head.

“We have a lot of them in these offices. The school nurse has three. The assistant principal has at least three. There are several in the secretary’s office. We’re a pretty good team. I don’t think we could make it without students.”

“And what if Tiffany decides she wants to work in the offices?” Misty asked.

Clever girl, Iris thought. Already looking for potential conflicts and figuring them out. She smiled. “It kind of sounds like Tiffany is too busy to help out.”

* * *

At four forty-five Iris entered Cliffhanger’s and knew that Troy would be there, anxious as he was to be done with work for the day. She ordered a beer and some potato skins. “This might be dinner,” she told Troy.

“Works for me. How’s Misty?”

“What a delightful young lady. Very mature, isn’t she? Not much gets by her. I looked at her grades—no wonder you wanted her to take the SAT. Accelerated classes for years and never gets less than an A.”

“So, did you convince her to take the SAT?” he asked.

“No, she’s not interested in that right now. Don’t worry, she has plenty of time. Not a good idea to pressure a teenager with too many adult responsibilities, especially if they’re showing some resistance.”

“I saw her last period in the hall. She was talking to a couple of kids and appeared to be in a very good mood, so what did you do?”

“I just talked to her, didn’t hear anything I haven’t heard before, reassured her. And then I gave her a job.”

“What job?”

“I asked her if she was interested in working for me during her study hall and helping me get through my paper jungle. She seemed interested—she said she’d try it for a while. I assured her if she had studying to do, all she had to do was say so and she could use the time on schoolwork. We have a couple of extra cubicles in the office used by students who are helping out—they sort, file, stuff envelopes, you name it.” Her beer arrived. “Misty makes three student helpers for me. I really scored, thanks.”

“And that’s it? You talked to her and gave her a job?”

“Uh-huh. I think she was flattered. It’ll help fill her bucket.”

“Huh?”

“You know—the bucket...”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, the elementary school teachers talk about the bucket a lot. Everyone has one. When people say nice things to you, do nice things, make you feel better about yourself, they’re filling your bucket. When people are mean or insulting or hurtful in any way, they’re emptying your bucket and you don’t want to go around with an empty bucket. It makes you sad and cranky. And you don’t want to be emptying other peoples’ buckets—that also makes you unhappy. The best way is to fill all the buckets you can and keep yours nice and full by looking for positive people and experiences.” She smiled.

Troy leaned his elbow on the bar and rested his head in his hand. “What do I have to do to get a job with you?”

“Master’s degree in counseling.” She took a sip. “Easy peasy. You’d be great.”

* * *

The weather turned wet and cold at the end of the month, rain washing the colorful leaves off the trees. Iris stood in the hallway outside her office every morning and listened to the kids cough and sneeze and hack as they passed. The homecoming game was held in the rain a week before Halloween and Iris sat in the stands with a plastic tarp over her head like most of the town. Snuggled up beside her was Troy, who kept saying God bless the rain! On Saturday night everyone dried off and donned their best clothes for the big dance.

Iris was not surprised to see Seth at the dance. She figured he would be there, if not in an official capacity then in a semiofficial capacity. He’d had his stitches removed and was wearing a suit rather than his uniform. In fact, there weren’t any uniformed police officers at the dance but there were some outside in the parking lot, despite the nasty weather. And now that she knew a little more about the new Seth, she knew about that gun on his ankle.

Iris’s job at a school dance was to watch for student problems. She kicked some girls out of the restroom for smoking, confiscated what looked like a flask from a sixteen-year-old boy, stopped an argument between two boys over a girl and did it all without taking a shot to the face. She lifted her chin and gave Seth a very superior smile.

At around ten, a good two hours before these die-hard kids would give up the dance and leave, Seth made his way to her side. “I had my stitches out. Wanna go out for a drink after the dance?”

“Where?” she asked. “Cliff isn’t open this late, I’m not going to Waylan’s, the beach would be insane in this weather... I did confiscate a flask, but even I’m not that daring.”

“How about your place?” he asked, grinning.

“Nice try,” she said. “Actually, I have a headache.”

“Are you just practicing?” he wanted to know.

“I do have a real headache,” she said. “Blame the weather and the class of 2015. You think your work is dangerous?”

“How about if I call you tomorrow?” he asked.