by C. S Luis
“I want to apologize,” Dr. Black began as I nervously walked alongside him, unable to look over in his direction.
“Apologize for what?” I stupidly asked, still unable to look at him.
“For being so insensitive first of all,” he softly answered.
We walked outside the main office near the library as he motioned me into his office. Mrs. Wallace wasn’t at her desk as I was accustomed to seeing her. I figured she was at lunch, and Dr. Black walked into his office, allowing me to go in first. When I looked around I noticed no big changes, only a few boxes still cluttered by the side of the wall, and all my grandfather’s furniture was still there. He hadn’t taken any of the furniture out. Although, the few photographs and certificates now decorating the wall next to the entrance and behind his desk were his.
I stopped by the entrance to examine the photographs and certificates displayed on Dr. Black’s wall, reading through them; there were pictures and awards and a few charities he seemed to have been part of. When I turned, I noticed Dr. Black was standing by his desk and my lips nervously quivered when I found him gazing back at me; it made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I wanted to flee.
Why did he look at me that way? His eyes brightly gazed over to me at full alert. I felt he was trying to figure me out. It made me uncomfortable when people looked at me that way, and especially now, when he did. Did he know it? And if he did, why did he continue staring back at me in that way? He made me lower my eyes, and I felt he had wanted this victory.
Then, I wished I hadn’t said what I had said, but I was so uncomfortable and it seemed I always said dumb things when I was uncomfortable. “Wow, you’re really popular.”
I felt stupid for saying it, but it was the first thing that came out of my mouth. I wanted to leave, feeling my cheeks burning red. Dr. Black smiled and then laughed, as I stood there trying to disappear, biting my lower lip. Doing this made me feel even more embarrassed; he found it comical. God, why did I do this to myself?
“You could say that,” he merely said with a wide grin on his handsome face. “I like to get involved,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked like he was posing for the cover of GQ; even the expression on his face gave that indication.
I swallowed hard, having a difficult time looking up at him, feeling that perhaps he was examining me as I had examined those items around his office. But when I did bravely look at Dr. Black’s face, I could see his blue suit was immaculate and well kept. His flawless face, smooth and just perfect. He had the appearance of a mature, yet youthful man. But there was also a manly ruggedness about him that I found strangely interesting. And immediately I couldn’t believe I had thought that. Perhaps Alex’s thoughts and even words were finding their way into my head.
“Please, come and take a seat,” Dr. Black politely offered, and I slowly walked over to the chairs in front of his desk and collapsed on the cushion as he watched me with the same full grin on his face.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Dr. Black began; he was seated at the edge of his desk as I reluctantly sat in front of him.
“I can’t imagine losing someone. Then losing your grandfather all in the same month, especially when you hardly knew him.” He knew, I thought, but of course he knew. I had just yelled at him about it. Then, I wondered if Michael had told him anything else.
I nervously stirred, sitting there with his gaze on me, and I felt myself welling up. I didn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him. I was already so embarrassed by my foolish words and his hypnotic eyes staring at me.
“I myself don’t have a family. I never knew my parents,” he offered, and I stared up at him and wondered why he was telling me this. I was surprised to hear him say that. But I was mostly surprised that he was sharing that with me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that,” I offered. He smiled warmly back at me.
“You don’t have to apologize, Miss Belle. I’m simply trying to say that I can’t understand how hard it must be for you. Unlike me, you knew your parents, and now they have been taken from you. I can’t imagine it.”
I looked down, holding back my tears.
Dr. Black reached down, taking a hold of my chin. It felt like he didn’t like people looking away from him. I swiftly looked up at him; he looked surprised when I did. His green eyes sadly gazed down at me. I couldn’t explain the look; it was as though I had caught him off guard. He seemed out of breath but immediately appeared to regain his composure, and if I hadn’t noticed it in that instant, I would not have seen it at all.
Then, he said, “I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories. Those weren’t my intentions.”
Startled by his touch, I merely gazed timidly up at him.
“It’s alright,” I whispered. His eyes blinked, and he slowly let me go. No one had ever done that to me. No one had ever grabbed hold of my attention and demanded it, only my father. But it seemed every part of his being seemed to do that. He demanded my full attention. I wondered if it was everyone’s attention he demanded, or did I just want it to be mine?
“I hold a great deal of respect for your grandfather,” he continued. “I’m being truthful.”
I looked away, finding it harder and harder to look up at him when he spoke, and when he looked at me with those big green eyes, I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things Alex had said about him.
And I thought about her, Alex. What had turned her conversation into a disagreement between the others? I felt in some way it was my entire fault. Alex, who could blame her? She was only being the teenage girl she obviously was supposed to be. It was the others that were acting odd, if not overreacting.
There was a brief awkward pause between Dr. Black and I, and I immediately felt I had to speak.
“I see you haven’t really changed anything in the office,” I tried to change the subject and he merely grinned back, looking around the room from the edge of his desk.
“I saw no point in doing so. Things change fairly quickly in the school district. There’s always a chance I may not be here long.”
That was a shame, just when I was getting to know him so well. But did I really feel that way?
“That would be a shame,” I said, then I bit my lip. Somehow, he seriously doubted my words. I guess I wasn’t the only one.
“Well, I’m flattered,” he said with a smirk while crossing his arms. “But I just think you’re being nice and kind,” Dr. Black laughed slightly.
“Of course not,” I offered. “It would be a shame since I’m just getting to know you.”
“That’s true, Miss Belle,” he said softly. “And who else would keep me in line, correct?” He gave me a full grin, still seated at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed, staring back at me. I couldn’t look at him as I blinked, realizing how nervous I felt when he’d called me by my last name. It almost sounded romantic. Damn you, Alex, for putting those thoughts into my head.
“So, that’s why you must stay,” I bravely said, overstepping my boundaries. What the hell was I doing?
It’s called flirting; I could hear Alex’s voice in my head.
“We have history now,” I said, and Dr. Black laughed and nodded. He looked well entertained by my words. The words that so embarrassed me.
13
Dr. John Black
Was she flirting with me? I merely examined her, taking all of her in: what she wore and how she glanced over at me. She was dressed in a white sheer blouse with a gray tank top underneath that covered her slender frame. She had on tight fitting blue jeans and a pair of red Doc Martins. Her long brown hair was loosely falling on her slender backside. She liked to pull back strands of her hair behind her ears, and sometimes when she was nervous, she bit her lip.
Who indeed would keep me in line? The fact that I wouldn’t be here long was the honest truth; once my assignment was over, my days here would be numbered.
“You’re right, we do, Miss Belle,” I softly said, licking my lips as she looked bashfully back
at me, perhaps now regretting she had said that to me. I’ll be honest, if you invite me, I’ll take the invitation, and if you flirt with me, I’m going to flirt right back.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any control over that. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” I said as I turned towards my desk. “By the way, there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you, and now that I have you here in my office, I’d like to.”
I lifted a picture frame from my desk drawer and brought it forward. She bravely came a few steps closer, now standing alongside my desk. She looked nervous. Did I make her nervous? So, I hadn’t lost my touch. I can be rather intimidating.
The frame I presented to her was one she had left here. It was one of her grandfather, a picture I had admired and one I would have kept if it was her image alone and not of her grandfather. But I knew it meant a lot to her; I could see it in her pretty brown eyes. I could see it even though now she was hiding her eyes from me in that bashful way that I loved in women.
14
Claudia
I bravely came closer than I wanted to be. Dr. Black made me nervous when he looked over at me. I didn’t understand why. Sure, he was handsome, but it was the way his eyes pierced through me that unsettled me. Maybe it was because I was just a silly girl to him, or perhaps because I knew he had found me trying to read his thoughts, and I was waiting for him to tell me so.
Dr. Black presented the frame to me, I could feel his eyes on me as I noticed the photograph in his hands. I took it from him, accidentally brushing his fingers with my own hand, and I almost dropped the frame in surprise, but Dr. Black caught it and gently put it in my hand. He merely smiled, gazing over at me. I looked down, perhaps away, feeling it amused him when I did.
“Thank you,” I softly whispered.
“You’re welcome, Miss Belle.” I liked it when he called me by my last name. I felt important and respected.
I gazed at the picture frame now and realized it was the last photograph I had of my grandfather before his death. In fact, it was the only one I had of him.
“I know it must be very important to you. I’m sorry. I meant to return it to you much sooner. You left it here after you chewed me out earlier today,” Dr. Black said politely as I blushed back when he said those words.
“It’s a nice picture,” he again said.
“God, I’m sorry about that,” I whispered, feeling so embarrassed.
Dr. Black put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Miss Belle, it’s alright; it’s all in the past now. Besides, you shouldn’t have seen that. And I’m sorry you did. Now…” Dr. Black said taking a deep breath. I didn’t know what to say. But it was then that I thought I was going to collapse with nerves as he gazed so deeply into my eyes. He pulled away and looked slightly dazed when he did.
“I was serious,” he gently said as I pulled away, holding onto the picture.
“You are serious about what, sir?” I said while biting my lip.
“About what I said before,” he continued, grinning. “I really would like us to be friends, and I promise not to open my mouth and say something stupid again as I did before,” he smiled, showing a set of stunning white teeth behind hiss plump lips.
I nodded with difficulty, wanting to hate him but finding it even harder with each word and look. He came around the other side of his desk and pulled the drawer open and brought out a yellow pad. He scribbled a few words onto the surface of the pad, and then tore out the scribbled yellow slip and handed it over to me.
I gazed at it; it was a tardy slip. “In case you need it, I think I’ve kept you in here too long. Now, I wanted you to know that if you need anything, anything at all, my office is always open. No matter how small the reason is.”
He smiled in that intoxicating manner that both weakened and angered me, and I reluctantly bobbed my head like a rag doll and whispered, “Okay”
“I’m glad we had this talk,” Dr. Black softly said, walking around his desk. I slowly wandered over to the office door with the slip in my hand.
I didn’t want to turn and catch him looking over at me again. I tried to consider what he had said, perhaps trying to figure him out, and those strange useless sounds coming from his head that I couldn’t decode. Did he know what I could do? The way he acted indicated that he knew something, but was he ignoring the obvious, and if so, why?
The first time we had met I knew he had discovered me digging into his head, but why did he refuse to mention it now? I was thankful, but I was also curious.
“I can see it, Miss Belle,” I heard Dr. Black say from where he stood near his desk as I slowly walked away; it seemed he was trying to keep our conversation going.
I glanced back standing at the entrance of the office. As he stood by the desk, boldly observing me, I tried to avoid his eyes.
“See what?” I softly asked, holding the framed photograph against me.
“That you remind me of Pocahontas,” Dr. Black suddenly said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk again. I recalled Alex’s words in the cafeteria as she had referred to me. I blushed almost instantly when he said that. He had heard our conversation, and I thought about all those other things Alex had said about him being so handsome and being my John Smith. I was speechless as his smile spread over that charming face, as if he could read the expression on my face.
“May I ask you something?” He said, and that same grin reappeared on his face; it was the smirk I’d become accustomed to with the curving side lip and those eyes beaming back.
“Yes, sir?”
His eyes were piercing and beckoning and paralyzing. Dr. Black never looked away, unlike me who couldn’t quite look up at him. I was a quivering mess filled with butterflies that squirmed in my stomach. And I wondered if that was normal or if I had caught something like the flu.
“Eres Latina, ¿sí?” Dr. Black simply asked me in Spanish; it freaked me out when he did. He spoke Spanish. Was there anything he couldn’t do? But it was the manner that he asked; he was smiling, waiting for the answer that was to him an obvious yes. He looked almost intoxicated, in a dreamlike state.
“Yes,” I glared at him oddly. Why was he asking such an abnormal question?
“I thought so,” he responded, but it was the way he had said it and what he said next as he exhaled and smiled fully.
“¿Por qué no me respondes en español?” he again asked in Spanish. Did he want to hear me speak Spanish, and why?
“Sí ¿hablas en español?” he asked. I looked at him, slightly offended. Was he seriously doing this and why?
“Sí, muy bien,” I responded in Spanish and then answered the rest in English. “Why do you ask?”
“Don’t be ashamed of who you are,” he said, smiling back at me.
“I’m not,” I said, lying as the smile on his face spread.
“Entonces habla conmigo en español,” His Spanish was indeed perfect but tinged with the obvious accent of any American. I felt as if he was playing with me. The smirk on his face had not once disappeared, and his eyes were fully alert, gazing at me from where he was sitting. Why did he make me so nervous? And why did he want me to refer to him in Spanish?
“¿Qué quiere que yo diga?” I responded in Spanish, and he parted his lips as the word escaped his mouth.
“Perfecto.” I felt like I was in Spanish class getting graded.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said as I lifted my eyes up at him.
“You speak Spanish very well,” I simply said, hoping he would stop staring at me like that.
“Perhaps it’s because I love everything that is Spanish,” he merely offered, but it was the expression on his face that said far more than his words, and it shocked me.
“I’m just curious since your grandfather seemed more…” he suddenly said.
"White,” I offered.
“Someone with Anglo American characteristics I mean,” He corrected me, and I blushed, “Oh.”
He nodded with
that same grin on his face and the same deep concentration that had accompanied his being. He looked merely intoxicated and slightly lost. His eyes seemed in a trance and confused.
"Yes," he softly answered, crossing his arms again, and I wondered whether he had any work at all since he had so much time to talk to me.
“My father was the same. He looked like you. Well, not like you, but he had light skin. White,” I said. “Like my grandfather.”
Dr. Black seemed to be listening politely with a nod of his head and that handsome smile on his clean-shaven face and those paralyzing green eyes breaking me to pieces inside and out.
"But my mother was Latin. I get it from my mother’s side, I guess. Everyone tells me how much I looked like her. She had dark brown hair with a bronzed complexion like me. I guess that's where the nickname Pocahontas comes from. I get that a lot.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s a cruel joke,” I whispered. “I guess it’s the long hair.”
“Then you got the best part of the gene pool,” Dr. Black said. “It shouldn’t bother you; she was very beautiful, the actress who played her I mean.”
“She was, I suppose,” I nervously tried to say while sounding uninterested; he was referencing the movie with Colin Farrell and Christian Bale. It was in that moment that I looked at him and noticed he reminded me a bit of Christian Bale but with lighter hair, but his beautiful green eyes were just as piercing and powerful. That’s why he didn’t belong here; he was too pretty, like the actor, to be a simple principal of Milton.
I shook the thought away. Now I would never see him in any other way. It was like when you get an idea of someone who reminds you of someone else. Well, there was my Christian Bale; he might as well have been looking back at me from Dr. Black’s eyes.
“Well, I'm nothing like her,” I softly said.
“No, you’re not,” Dr. Black said, which surprised me. I felt a little insulted.
