The Lost Tayamu

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The Lost Tayamu Page 8

by Ben Cass


  “I don’t mean like on a date,” she clarified. “Just...two people having dinner alone together. I mean, we could call it a date if you wanted to...or not,” she finished hurriedly. “No pressure or anything. This is twice you’ve been there for me, and I’d like the chance to properly thank you.”

  She could see Ellie’s jaw hanging open, one of the few times Jen could remember her sister being speechless. It was rather gratifying. She waited for Doyle’s response, hoping she hadn’t just humiliated herself.

  “It’s a date,” he replied softly, a smile breaking out across his face. “Just send me the details when you feel better.”

  “I will,” Jen promised. “I’ll text you later?”

  “I’ll be waiting,” he said. Jen smiled and got into the car, buckling her seat belt. She watched Ellie walk up to Doyle and stand right in front of him, her arms crossed. Jen couldn’t hear her, but she could see Ellie saying something to him. Ellie held up her hand, and he smacked his own hand against it.

  Jen rolled down the window and stuck her head out. “Hey, you need a lift?” she called. He walked over to her and leaned down.

  “No, I’m good, thanks. I got used to walking everywhere back home, so I’m perfectly fine walking here. I don’t even know the last time I drove my car. Besides,” he looked inside and shuddered, “this thing isn’t much bigger than a Hot Wheels car. I’d never get out.” Ellie climbed in and buckled her seat belt. Doyle patted the window frame twice. “I’ll just go finish my run. Have a great evening, ladies.” He stood up and began walking in the opposite direction, the breeze lightly ruffling his hair.

  Ellie put the car into drive and did a three-point turn as Doyle stepped off the road to give her space. They waved at him, and he gave a small salute with his hand as he moved back onto the road and began jogging down it. As Ellie began driving away, Jen glanced into her mirror, and then did a double-take. “What the hell?” she breathed.

  Doyle was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  “She asked Coach Doyle out?” Abby asked incredulously, staring wide-eyed at Ellie. Olivia stood next to her twin, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Has she ever gone on a date?”

  “Not since I’ve known her,” Ellie replied, yanking her gym shirt on over her head. She pulled her hair up and through the collar of her shirt, and then set about putting it into a ponytail. “Seemed like an awkward moment to me; that car had nearly just hit her, after all.”

  “Maybe it just made her realize she doesn’t want to be alone,” Olivia suggested, handing Ellie a hair tie. Ellie accepted it with a nod of thanks. “He’s saved her twice now, yeah?”

  Ellie closed the locker, the blue metal door slamming loudly. “Yep. I can tell she’s into him, so I’m really happy she finally figured it out herself.”

  Abby elbowed her sister. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll even get to...” Abby did some pelvic thrusts towards Olivia.

  Ellie pretended to throw up in her mouth. “I can never unsee that,” she said to Abby. “So gross.”

  Olivia put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Like you’ve never fantasized about him.”

  Ellie blushed. “It was one dream. One! Can we forget about it, please?” She covered her eyes. “I never should have told you two about it.”

  They all jumped when Doyle’s voice boomed from the gymnasium door. “Ladies! Let’s go!”

  “God, he is so sexy!” Olivia exclaimed, leading them out of the locker room. “Maybe if we stay longer, he’ll call again?” They joined the others, who were sitting on the bleachers in the gym. The three girls climbed up to the fourth row and sat down together, looking curiously at the floor. Bright red mats were lined up, making a rectangle that was about twenty feet long and ten feet deep.

  A few of the guys straggled out from their locker room, looking sheepishly back at Coach Silvers, who was walking out of it herself, shaking her head. “Did she actually go in?” Abby asked.

  “Knowing Silvers, probably,” Ellie replied. “She’s too old to care.”

  “Now that everyone has graced us with their presence,” Silvers said, eyeing the latecomers as they took a seat, “you’ve probably noticed something different in here.” She pointed back at the mats. “As you know, Jen Aston was recently attacked on her way to work, but thanks to the timely intervention of Coach Doyle, she escaped relatively uninjured.”

  Loud cheers and applause rose from the students. Ellie thought Doyle seemed rather embarrassed by the attention. He clasped his hands behind his back and looked away for a moment.

  Once the noise died down, Silvers continued, “Sheriff Bellsley came by a little while ago and asked us, in light of this, to spend a few classes teaching you, especially the young women, some self-defense techniques.” She looked up at Doyle. “Coach Doyle has graciously agreed to share a few of the things he learned in the Special Forces.”

  The whispers rose around Ellie. Some people had heard about Doyle being in the military, while others hadn’t. Apparently, he’d dropped the Special Forces bombshell while eating at Kimmy’s diner. Beside her, Ellie could see Mike and his friends looking at Doyle with a newfound respect in their eyes.

  “He was Special Forces? God, he just got about forty percent hotter,” Abby murmured.

  “Sixty-five,” her twin countered. “Easily.”

  “Coach!” somebody yelled. “Did you ever have to kill somebody?”

  Ellie’s gaze snapped back to Doyle, who had frozen in place. He was staring at the student, whom Ellie couldn’t see, eyes narrowed at them. His expression was carefully neutral, but given the way his jaw muscles were working and the way his fists clenched and unclenched, Ellie suspected he was barely containing his anger.

  “Oh, shit,” Mike whispered. “He has. You can see it. Why would you ask him that, you damn idiot?” So she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

  “Remember when I said it’d be hot to see him fight somebody?” Abby suddenly whispered to Olivia and Ellie. “I take it back.”

  Doyle finally spoke, but not to answer the question. He simply ignored it. “Everybody down here. Make a circle around the mats.” His voice was cold and flat, a tone unlike any they’d ever heard from him before.

  The forty of them scrambled quickly to obey, clambering off the bleachers and hurrying to the mats, standing silently in a loose circle. Nobody wanted Doyle to get angrier than he clearly was.

  Doyle closed his eyes for a moment, took some deep breaths, and re-opened them. He pointed at Abby. “Abby, on the mat.”

  “I’m Olivia,” she said sweetly.

  “No. You’re not. On the mat.” He pointed at Mike. “Mike, on the mat.” Mike quickly complied, standing across from Abby. Doyle rubbed his hands together.

  “Perfect. Abby, you’re about to beat the crap out of Mike.”

  She smiled at Mike, who grinned nervously. “Well, if I’m going to get nearly killed, at least it’s by her,” Mike said. “There are much worse ways to die.”

  Doyle rolled his eyes and bent over a bag, pulling out body padding and a helmet. He handed them to Mike. “Put these on,” Doyle said. Mike sighed in relief and set about dressing himself.

  “All right, Abby, pay attention,” Doyle said, and began giving her directions.

  BY the end of the class, they were all tired. Doyle had put them through non-stop exercises, practicing kicks and punches and eye gouges and a bunch of other things Ellie could barely remember. Silvers dismissed them to get changed and go home, and the class trudged to their locker rooms. “I’ll clean up,” Doyle told Silvers. She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded in agreement, gently patting his arm.

  “You coming, Ellie?” Olivia asked her. Ellie looked over at Doyle for a moment before shaking her head.

  “Not just yet,” she said. Olivia followed Ellie’s gaze, and then looked back at Ellie, eyebrow up. Olivia didn’t say anything; she just nodded and went with her sister into the locker room.

  Ellie watched as Doyl
e began folding the mats up. He got three of them done before stopping. He straightened, put his hands on his hips, and turned away, glaring at the ground. In the short amount of time she’d known him, she’d never seen him like this. It looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. This was more than the question that moron had asked, but she didn’t know what.

  Ellie hesitated, and then walked towards him. She didn’t know why, only that it felt right to her. When she was a few feet away, Doyle spoke. “What do you want, Elowyn?” His voice was still cold and angry, as it had remained most of the class. Ellie didn’t like this version of Coach Doyle much.

  “I...I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what that idiot asked you in class. It wasn’t right; you should have thrown him out. Your past is yours, not ours. You’re not obligated to share anything with us. I just...I just wanted you to know they had no right to ask you.” She turned to leave, brushing some hair from her face.

  “I don’t like thinking about it,” he said quietly. Ellie stopped and turned back to him, folding her arms across her chest. Doyle turned to face her, breathing out a huge sigh. “I’ve done dark things, Elowyn. Things I am not proud of, nor that I would ever want to do again.”

  She studied him thoughtfully for a moment. “You would, though, wouldn’t you? If it was necessary to save somebody?”

  “Without even pausing to think,” he answered immediately. “And I hate that about myself.”

  “Well,” she said slowly, looking down at the ground so she didn’t have to see his sad eyes, “I know I’m not an adult yet, despite my superior intellect and razor-sharp wit.” Doyle snorted, and she carried on, “But I know a good person when I see one...and you’re a good man, Coach. I hope you know you are.”

  He grunted. “I try to be. I don’t always succeed.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes, making sure he saw her. “My sister asked you out to dinner. You’re the first guy she’s ever gone out with in the twelve years I’ve known her. Are you implying she’s such a terrible judge of character she would choose somebody who’s not a good person? Because if you are, you and I might have some trouble.”

  He looked surprised. “She’s never gone on a date?”

  Ellie shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, and I’m nosy as hell. Used to read her diary whenever I could. All the really useful years were missing, because she doesn’t remember anything before she got here.”

  Doyle frowned suddenly, brows furrowed. “She has amnesia?”

  Ellie nodded. “Did she not mention it to you?” He shook his head. “Oh. I probably shouldn’t have, then...but too bad. Cat’s out of the bag. Yeah, she has no memories of her life before Groverton. She has no idea how she got here, where she came from, who her parents were, or even her last name. About all she’s sure of is her name and her age.”

  He looked away for a moment, studying something in the distance. “Amnesia...” he said softly to himself. His shoulders relaxed, and the customary twinkle came back into his eye. Whatever had been bothering him seemed to have finally passed.

  “Any advice for tonight?” he asked suddenly. “I also haven’t gone on a date in a while.”

  That was hard to believe, so she suspected he was just saying that to not give Ellie a reason to question him about his previous relationships. Which I will be doing if they get serious!

  “Look nice,” she said. “Dress shirt and pants. Tie, if you have it.”

  “We’re just going to the diner,” he said, but Ellie shook her head.

  “You’re not dressing for the diner,” she told him. “You’re dressing for anything that might possibly happen after the diner.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Optimistic, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Ellie said, shrugging, “but at the very least, you’ll look good. Not that you don’t right now,” she added. “You always look good.” She felt her face flush as Doyle raised an eyebrow. “I mean, great. You always...you know what, I’m going to leave now.” She walked away, hand covering her face, her cheeks burning. I’m going to go crawl into my locker and die.

  THE doorbell chimed, disturbing the relative silence in the house. Jen poked her head out of the bedroom, putting her earrings in. “Ellie? Would you mind getting the door, please?”

  She heard the front door open and close, and then Doyle talking with Ellie. He laughed suddenly, which was a good sign. Hopefully, Ellie wouldn’t do anything to embarrass herself. Jen knew she was crushing hard on Doyle. She wondered if he knew it, too.

  Jen looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing her blouse down. “It’s just dinner, Jen. Not even a real date. Just relax.”

  Not a real date. She snorted to herself. It didn’t matter what it was. This was the first time she’d ever gone out with somebody, at least that she could remember. No wonder her nerves were shot.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door. “May I come in?” came Ellie’s voice.

  “Of course, sweetie,” Jen replied, checking her side view in the mirror. Ellie opened the door just enough to slip through and closed it behind her.

  “Wow,” she said, eyes wide. “You’re stunning!”

  Jen rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen me in this before. I’ve worn it to work.” She gestured at the bed, where a half-dozen outfits lay. “I had a really hard time deciding what to wear.” She’d settled on the dark green skirt with light blue blouse; the blouse had silver streaks running diagonally across it.

  Ellie came over to Jen and stood beside her, looking in the mirror. “I didn’t mean the outfit, Jen. I meant the expression on your face.”

  “The look on my face?” Jen was confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Ellie sniffed her. “No perfume? Uh-uh. Not allowed.” She went to Jen’s dresser and rummaged through the bottles. “Hmm...too plain, too fruity, too...no. Just no.” She finally picked one up. “Perfect! Lightly scented, but just frisky enough to suggest you’re open to some fun.” She held the bottle into the air. “You know what to do. Spray, delay, walk away.” She spritzed some perfume into the air, and Jen paused for a second before walking through it.

  Ellie replaced the bottle on the dresser. “To answer your question. You’re about to go on your first date—possibly ever—and it’s with the guy who’s saved your life twice. Let’s throw in the fact he’s slightly attractive, and you have a recipe for a little bit of excitement, right?”

  Jen shrugged. “Okay, yes, I’m excited, all right?”

  Ellie pointed at Jen’s face. “Right there. That’s what I was talking about. Stunning. Your entire face is just...I don’t know, transformed? I have never seen you look this happy. There’s a sparkle in your eyes and this smile keeps breaking out on your lips.” Ellie moved around Jen, quickly checking her outfit, gently tugging here and there. “And, if you’re lucky, maybe your lips will have even more reason to celebrate later.”

  Jen felt her face flush, and Ellie laughed. “That pretty much tells me everything. Get it, girl!” She pushed Jen towards the door. “I’ll stay back here until you leave. Have a great night!”

  Jen suddenly realized she was in the hallway and her bedroom door was closed behind her. She took a deep breath and walked out to the front room.

  She saw Doyle standing by the fireplace. Jen’s eyebrows went up. He was wearing black pants with a long-sleeved red dress shirt. The color combination went very well with his skin tone. It was a stark contrast to the shorts and t-shirt she’d always seen him in. He was engrossed in studying a picture of her adoptive parents, his fingers lightly touching the frame. He stood there for a moment longer, his gaze not moving at all. As he glanced at the other pictures, most of which were of the whole family together, Jen finally saw his face. She could only describe his expression as shocked recognition. In all honesty, he looked like somebody who’d just had a life-altering epiphany.

  The reporter in her wanted to immediately start interrogating him. She had questions she’d never had the chance to ask him, and
this just added to the list. However, Jen didn’t think this would get the evening off to a good start, so she put it off for later.

  And there would be a later, she promised herself. Jen cleared her throat. “Hi,” she said. Doyle turned and smiled at her.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  “You clean up nicely,” Jen commented, indicating his attire. “Very nicely.”

  “So do you,” he said. Did he sound nervous? She thought he sounded nervous. Jen was sure she did.

  “Shall we go?” she asked. Doyle nodded and went to open the front door for her.

  “After you,” he said, sweeping his arm towards the outside of the house.

  Chapter Eight

  A few hours later, Jen closed the front door, locking it behind her. She set her purse on the small table beside the entryway and took out her phone, plugging it into the charger and moving it so the white cable wasn’t so visibly sticking out. It didn’t cause any issues, but Jen didn’t like the way the cable looked when it was sitting out like that.

  “You’re so OCD about that stupid cable.” Ellie’s voice came from behind her, startling Jen. “So how was the date? Was it amazing? Or do I need to get the chocolate ice cream and put on a bad chick flick so we can cry into the night?”

  Jen smiled and squeezed her shoulder. “No need to cry into the night, although I wouldn’t say no to some chocolate ice cream.”

  Ellie’s face fell. “So you two didn’t hit it off, but you’re not miserable about it. I guess that’s a partial win?”

  Jen raised an eyebrow. “Who said we didn’t hit it off? He asked me out for a second date.”

  Ellie squealed and covered her mouth with her hands for a moment, eyes shining with excitement. After she calmed down, she spoke through her fingers. “You said yes, right? Tell me you said yes.”

  Jen patted her cheek and walked past her, heading to the kitchen. Now she wanted ice cream. “Of course I said yes.”

  “Cha-CHING!” Ellie yelled, pretending she was pulling the handle on a slot machine. “Details! I need all the details! Please? Pretty, pretty please?”

 

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