by Jessica Leed
He looked blankly at her, his eyes unnaturally wide.
‘How many teeth do they have, Nolan? Does it mention it somewhere in there?’ She was trying hard, praying he would regurgitate the information he had shared with her earlier.
He shrugged, fear and uncertainty clouded his eyes.
A few more snickers.
She sighed. What had she done?
‘Why won’t you tell us something from your book? We’re all waiting!’ Jacob called out, smirking as his eyes darted around the room for validation.
She felt her blood boil in record time. ‘Jacob! That’s very disrespectful. You can stay back with me when the bell goes,’ her words came sharp. She rarely raised her voice. There were other means to managing behaviour.
Jacob shrugged, pretending not to care, but his body language as he sunk in his chair told her otherwise.
Nolan started rocking forward and back, panic spreading over his features. ‘There are three hundred of them,’ his voice sounded breathless, ‘three hundred or more sharp … really sharp … first two rows that grab … and cut like. I mean, the others in the last rows replace the front when they are broken and um, worn down …’
It was a jumbled, incoherent mess.
The giggles grew even louder.
Just as she stood to her feet to address the class, the timer went off. The confronting buzz unleashed an inner panic as Nolan plunged towards the door. It was the first time she had seen him freak out like that. Bolting had never been in his repertoire. It took her by surprise. The silence that invaded the room confirmed that she wasn’t the only one.
After being notified of his where about, she dismissed the class swiftly as the bell went minutes later. She found him in the library sitting on the floor in the nonfiction aisle with his chin in his hands, unresponsive to the librarian whom she was grateful had been in the room. As soon as he saw her, he lifted his chin, his expression filling with the same panic as the one flickered earlier.
‘I’m sorry I ran away.’ The sincerity in his voice made her long to reach out and comfort him.
‘It’s ok Nolan.’
His face softened. ‘I’ll try again next time. I just can’t … I don’t know why that happens. I got all dizzy up there and,’—he gulped, struggling to inhale—‘I got all embarrassed and everyone was laughing at me. I couldn’t stand there and keep stuffing up like that. I couldn’t think. Everything got all foggy.’
Her heart ached as his distress multiplied with each word. ‘What happened this afternoon won’t happen again Nolan. No one will be laughing next time. Only twenty-one pairs of respectful, listening ears and eyes.’ She hoped it wasn’t an empty promise. Especially after the stern words she had fed the class after he ran out.
He nodded and slowly got to his feet, collecting the books beside him. ‘Mrs Jennings said I can take them home with me.’
She smiled as he tucked three or four books under his arm.
At least he hadn’t lost his desire to read.
‘How are you getting home today?’ They began walking back to the classroom together.
‘Lindsey. She’s probably here now.’ His pace quickened, realising that she might already be waiting for him.
‘Oh, lovely. I would love to meet her.’
His eyes quickly met hers. ‘Please don’t tell her about before.’
‘Nolan, you know grown-ups need to know when things like this happen at school. I can’t hide that information from her.’
He groaned, his pace having now halved in speed. ‘As long as Miranda and Stuart don’t find out.’ There was a fear in his voice. ‘Especially Miranda.’
Miranda and Stuart?
‘You mean, your parents?’ she corrected him.
He shook his head assuredly. ‘They aren’t my parents,’ he answered dryly.
She felt the blood thump in her ears. What was she missing here? She was suddenly desperate to speak with Lindsey.
She needed answers.
Surely enough, as soon as they reached the classroom his aunt was standing in the corridor with Nolan’s bag around her shoulder. She was a pretty woman. Short, with cropped dark brown hair and an hour glass figure. Unlike Miranda—she dressed modestly—in a pencil skirt that fell just below her knees—complimented with a clean-cut silk blouse. The way she held herself and her warm smile, made her appear as though whatever line of work she was in, she was a successful, confident woman with her head on her shoulders.
Sienna shook her hand and extended a smile.
While Nolan went inside to tidy his desk, she filled her in on the afternoon’s incident. She told her about Nolan’s anxiety of his parents finding out and all the factors she believed had led to his breakdown. Lindsey listened intently, showing a care and genuine concern for Nolan that Miranda was yet to show. Without saying too much, Sienna informed her that she hadn’t had any luck getting in contact with his parents. Lindsey didn’t seem surprised but hadn’t heard anything about it either.
‘All I know is that things are a bit strained at home at the moment since Nolan found out about everything.’ Lindsey peered over at him, making sure he wasn’t listening in. He was over at the white board, wiping it down ready for the next day. ‘He hasn’t been connecting very well with them. They haven’t been able to get a single word out of him, he’s been completely unresponsive. I said I’d take him for the holidays. A bit sooner than we’d planned, but I’m glad I did. It seems to have all worked out well.’ She let out a deflated sigh. ‘I haven’t wanted to bring any of it up with him, I haven’t wanted to risk it with how well we’ve been getting on, you know?’
There was an honesty Sienna was drawn to, even though she didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. But still, she could feel the woman was holding back. That there was more behind those eyes than she was letting on.
‘Haven’t wanted to bring what up?’ she politely asked, even though her insides were screaming for clarity.
‘His adoption.’ Lindsey’s eyes didn’t flicker, as though she assumed Sienna knew all about it.
‘Right, of course.’ She released a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.
‘Being as inquisitive as he is, he has been questioning everything that’s taking place. Which is understandable, the poor kid is getting roundabout answers, it’s confusing for him. But the more he prods, the more things have flared up. It’s been a bit of disaster to be honest.’ She wiped her brow. ‘They probably haven’t been sensitive of his emotions either, mind you, the way they—’
‘I’m ready.’ Nolan’s eyes rested on Lindsey suspiciously, as though he knew they were talking about him.
She smiled freely, giving away nothing and passed him his bag. ‘Fantastic! Let’s get you home. I was thinking of making blueberry muffins.’
His eyes dilated. ‘Home?’
‘Back to mine honey.’
He nodded, his lips curling ever so slightly. He looked at Sienna. ‘Bye Miss Henderson.’
Her mind was racing trying to assemble all the information, yet her smile remained solid. ‘Have a lovely evening Nolan, enjoy those muffins. Feel free to bring any left overs in tomorrow for me,’ she joked. His smile broadened. ‘I can’t make any promises.’
They all shared a laugh.
‘Thank you,’ Lindsey whispered under her breath as Nolan took off ahead of her. ‘The work you do with him, he is always talking about you. He adores you, you are really making a difference, so thank you.’
It was possibly the nicest thing anyone had in a long time. Her throat tightened. She swallowed to loosen it. ‘I appreciate that. Nolan is an absolute pleasure to teach.’ She had more to say, more questions to ask. There was so much more to learn. But part of her was still holding out for a conversation with his parents. Or adopted parents.
Whatever they were.
They
were the ones she knew she had to talk to if she wanted the answers.
She wondered if Damian knew any more about the situation. If he knew of Nolan’s adoption, when it took place and its implications. Yet, his surname Livingston was the same as Miranda and Stuart’s. It didn’t all make sense. Having the answers might explain why Miranda was so hesitant to speak with them, why he was alone most of the time and why he had a relationship with his aunty, and not with his parents.
With every burning question she found herself taking another step towards his office. She couldn’t shake it this time. She couldn’t just let all these questions slide.
She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before opening it just enough to see in.
The room was empty.
She went to his desk and took a note from his sticky pad. She began scribbling a message, then decided against it. She would email him or drop by tomorrow. It could wait a day. She took the half-written note in her hand, almost smacking into Allie on her way out.
Perfect.
The note sailed to the floor. Slowly, Allie darted her eyes from the note on the ground with Damian’s name on it, to his office behind her, before positioning them back on Sienna. She lifted a brow and let out a soft snort as though she had made a connection between the three—that her theory of their love affair was correct all along. Without saying a word, she picked up the note and slapped it into Sienna’s hand like a self-righteous teen. Then, with a devious smile she shook her head scornfully, and paraded off.
What a fabulous first day back.
Fourteen
The first week had come and gone in a flash.
It was always that way at the start of every term. New units being introduced along with the challenge of settling the children back into a rhythm after the holidays. She was grateful for the distraction and the way it kept her mind from wondering.
The mystery case concerning Nolan still stood exactly as that. Damian knew no more than she did. He hadn’t had any luck getting in contact with his parents either, but hadn’t pressed the matter which only bugged her more.
Nolan was scheduled to have his first appointment on Monday with Anita Moore; the school counselor. She hadn’t received his parents’ consent but with Damian’s approval, had taken the risk and decided to go ahead with it.
She must have left about a hundred messages by now but was holding onto hope it was something significant enough they would respond to. Nolan was under the impression that he was meeting with the literacy support coordinator to work on self-confidence skills following his little breakdown. She hadn’t directly lied about it but hadn’t been a hundred percent honest, either. She was worried if he knew her position, he wouldn’t cooperate.
To her knowledge, he was still staying with his aunt Lindsey. She hadn’t seen her again since that Monday afternoon but felt better knowing that he was in her care, even if it was short term.
In fact, the situation was better for everyone.
He had a spring in his step that hadn’t sprung prior to that. Sure, he kept to himself most of the time, his head down more often than not when it wasn’t preoccupied in a book. This hadn’t changed and she hadn’t expected it would overnight.
But what she had noticed was a quiet confidence take root inside of him, in a way that instilled resilience when he would usually give up.
And that was a transformation in itself, even if it was a small one.
It was Friday night and as usual, Patrick wasn’t home. ‘Bowls with the boys’ he had told her, promising he would be home in time for a movie together later.
She wasn’t holding her breath. But strangely, wasn’t as affected by his absence as she once had.
She had become accustomed to it now.
Sinking down into the couch, she placed her bowl of chicken curry on the coffee table as her phone vibrated in her pocket. Her eyes were drawn to the unfamiliar number on the screen. She opened the message, her mind blank before realisation sent her heart to lurch.
You’re right, the lemon chicken is amazing. Wasn’t brave enough to try the white sauce with that fancy cheese you like with it though.
She was suddenly filled with enough energy to run a marathon.
Ethan.
Just when she didn’t think she would hear from him again …
Halloumi. That fancy cheese is called Halloumi.
Her fingers danced over the keypad, pressing send before she has a chance to reread her response. Seconds later there was another ping.
Are you sure? What’s this then?
Attached to the text was a picture of what appeared to be a chunky blue vain cheese scattered over the dish. Something she wasn’t even brave enough to eat. She burst out laughing and cozied her legs up under her on the couch.
That is blue vein cheese. I would never be that brave.
With a smile as wide as a Cheshire cat, she googled a photo of halloumi cheese and attached it with her message. Again, his text was almost instantaneous.
Haha … wow. Well, now I’m feeling a bit stupid. :P
Their messages went back and forth for a bit before she asked the burning question. He had retrieved her number from a mutual friend after learning her old number belonged to some old lady living thousands of kilometers north.
It hadn’t felt that long ago where she had lost her phone during the days she was at the Academy dancing full time. She had reached in her bag during a stage rehearsal one afternoon to discover it gone. Although no one admitted it at the time, she was convinced it had been stolen. She had had her suspicions, as spiteful girls like the ones from Centre Stage and Black Swan didn’t only exist in fiction. Especially in the ballet world where girls would attempt anything as they competed for the very few contracts that existed.
Her mind drifted back to 2010; the year her heart was left brittle after her falling out with Ethan. It was the September holidays and she had been dying to get out of the city over the break, away from the toxic ballet environment. It had been almost a term since she had been home last. Being a first year, she missed the comfort and dependability of being around her family. And after losing contact with her oldest and dearest friend, she was fragile. Her parents were finishing up their final week of their trip around Canada and had mentioned that Ethan’s parents Tamara and Rod, had offered for her to stay in their little cottage situated behind their house until they returned. It was a kind invitation, and not an unusual one as both their families had established a strong friendship over her childhood years. She was tentative at first, worried she would run into Ethan while she was there. She had been told that he had moved out just months prior and was now living with two friends from his footy league. It was only two nights, she figured she wouldn’t run into him.
So she accepted the offer.
Like the rare connection she shared with Ethan, the one she shared with his parents was no different. She loved them as if they were her own.
And they embraced her as a daughter.
She never made it to the cottage. Tamara insisted that she stayed in the main house with them. Funnily enough, they had set her up in Ethan’s old room, even if the situation hadn’t been humorous at the time. She was tempted to decline, but rude wasn’t in her. She wouldn’t be petty. As far as she could tell, they were oblivious to the fact that the two weren’t friends anymore and she had wanted to keep it that way.
It wasn’t until that night when she was getting ready for bed, where she stepped into his old room. A collage of old photos spewed over his walls, slashing open scars as the memories peered back at her. Many of them were selfies of himself and Sadie over the years. Her eyes had been drawn to the ones of them in a group, and more so, the odd photo of him and her. The way his eyes shone in each picture as her arm hung loosely around his shoulder with their cheeks smooshed together said a thousand words.
Until that night, s
he hadn’t quite realised the strength of their relationship, the pure joy and happiness that oozed from every photo. A friendship that had been left behind as the photos remained on the walls of his abandoned room.
She remembered waking up the next morning to the blended smell of bacon, eggs and tomato wafting down the hallway, landing right underneath her nose. The kitchen table had been set up in decorative china—all fancy in its layout. There had been fresh bread, scones with jam and cream, five assortments of tea and fresh fruit accompanying what would have been a satisfying breakfast with just the bacon and eggs alone. She had been looked after, that was for sure, and had wondered if Ethan had always been spoilt the same way she had.
The day only got better from there on. After offering to help with the clean-up and being told she would do no such thing, she had spent the morning in the sun curled up with a book on the patio surrounded by wild flowers, chirping magpies and the playfulness of their gorgeous Border Collie. It had lasted a full five minutes before Tamara appeared with a tray of iced tea and a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, straight from the oven. They spent hours in conversation as her white, starved skin had hungrily soaked up the sun rays.
That afternoon Rod had taken her out to the flying range where she took the passenger seat in his Tecam II plane, adrenaline exceeding every level performing had ever given her. She had never felt so scared, yet exhilarated all at the same time as they glided through the air, feeling every bump as the wind picked up. She had never experienced Aringdale in the way she had that day, taking in all of its beauty as she viewed the town in its entirety from a thrilling dimension.
He had asked her whether she had been in touch with his son. She told him she hadn’t, without devouring into the details of how their friendship had taken a turn south and because of her, would never be the same again. He had looked at her in the way Ethan used to; with attentive, gentle eyes. Even his smile was crooked, sending her heart in a frenzy as their uncanny resemblance made her miss him all over again. He mentioned that he could tell Ethan missed her. When she asked how, he said his son didn’t laugh the same way he did when he was in her company. That he was ‘searching,’ filling his time with ‘empty things’. Even his friendship circles had changed. He didn’t elaborate what he meant by ‘empty things,’ but she hadn’t pressed it either.
