Her Perfect

by Walls, Stephie

  The phone rang three times before Caleb answered. “Everything okay?” No hello or what’s up. Straight to the point.

  I had to tap dance around this quietly. “Yeah, I’m good. But I could use a ride.”

  “Have you been drinking? Where are you?” The sleepiness in his tone had cleared, and now he sounded irritated.

  A heavy sigh filled the line, and I realized it was my own. “No. I went for a jog and ended up a long way from my house. I tried Uber—”

  “Where are you?” Frustration wasn’t an easy emotion to hide, although Caleb didn’t bother trying.

  I told him roughly where I was and explained that without mile markers on county roads, I couldn’t be certain. Assuring him that he wouldn’t have a hard time finding me didn’t win any points.

  “That’s got to be ten or twelve miles from your house. What the hell were you doing?”

  Mentally, I didn’t have the energy to have this conversation. Caleb could either come get me, or I’d start walking. “Are you coming or not? I could do without the lecture.” I hadn’t meant to snap, but Jesus Christ, if I had any other option, I wouldn’t have called him.

  Caleb was silent for a minute, and then his words were unsure. “Yeah…. I’ll be there in a few.”

  I didn’t say goodbye, I just started in the direction Caleb would come from. The lining of my socks had rubbed blisters on my heels, and the balls of my feet sent sharp pains up my legs each time they touched the pavement. It made for slow progress.

  Headlights appeared in the distance, so I stopped to wait. A minute or so later, Caleb’s truck turned on the road and pulled over. I climbed into the cab, wincing as I went, and closed the door.

  Caleb took one look at me, shook his head, and whatever anger he’d been ready to unleash, he let go. “Wanna talk about it, Eli?”

  I buckled the seatbelt and stared out the passenger window. “Nope.”

  We rode in silence—not even the radio played—to my house. He pulled up to the curb, and as I reached for the handle to get out, he said, “Whoever she is, she’s not worth it.”

  I opened the door, hopped out, and turned to face him. “That’s where you’re wrong. Thanks for the ride. I owe you one.”

  He nodded. I closed the door and watched his taillights disappear down the street. Caleb didn’t even know who he was talking about, and it still pissed me off. Colbie got dismissed by everyone in her life, and I couldn’t be the one person who stood beside her. Her brothers—the ones that should protect her—were blind. And for the life of me, I didn’t understand how her parents could see her daily and not recognize that she’d lost weight, had bags under her eyes, and overworked herself mentally and physically.

  I slammed my front door behind me and went straight to the liquor cabinet. There was no point in using a glass; the bottle worked just fine. I kicked off my shoes as I uncapped the bottle, then pulled off my sweaty-ass socks, and hobbled over to the couch where I proceeded to drink until I passed out.

  When my alarm went off to meet Colbie to run, I silenced it and promptly threw my phone across the room. The room spun when I sat up. Yet the headache was the least of my concerns. I didn’t think a substitute could find a sub, so calling in wasn’t an option. And the idea of seeing Colbie nearly tore me in half. Being an adult sucked ass.

  A shower was my best bet toward a less painful day, until I tried to stand. It was like someone whacked the bottoms of my feet with a sledgehammer. I fell back on the couch and pulled my ankle toward me. There were no bruises to be seen, but the blisters had ripped open and the slightest touch to my heels was brutally painful.

  Any movement I made today would be a reminder of last night. And an agonizing one at that. Crawling to my bathroom wasn’t my finest moment, and it certainly wouldn’t work at school. Nevertheless, I had to get to school to even worry about that issue. Right now, I needed to soak in a hot tub for as long as I could in hopes of it releasing some of the sore muscles and easing a bit of the hangover.

  God answered that prayer, at least enough for me to bear walking. I had enough cotton balls taped to my heels that socks and shoes didn’t touch the open sores. My head had settled into a dull throb. My heart…that was another situation entirely. It didn’t beat right, like it skipped because it was no longer in sync with hers.

  I’d become a fucking pansy who needed to have his ass kicked. I thought about taking up boxing just so someone could pound the shit out of me, hoping it would also knock sense into me. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d seen her. I had to shake this shit off. I had a job to do, which included Colbie. Unless I wanted to ruin my career, I had to get myself in check.

  That would have been a hell of a lot easier to do if Caleb hadn’t decided to insert himself into my morning before first period.

  “You look like shit, Eli.”

  I gave him an apathetic glare. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

  Kids milled about in the hallways, and for the first time, the noise they made grated on every one of my nerves.

  “Yeah, that tends to happen when you get woken up in the middle of the night to pick up a friend who doesn’t want to talk.”

  I didn’t respond. Nothing had changed; I still didn’t want to talk. The next seven months would be pure hell without Caleb prying into it. He took a seat on the edge of my desk and proceeded to act like his nosey wife.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He crossed his arms and shifted to get comfortable on the wood.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone? Is it that chick, Annabelle, you told me about from grad school?”

  The warning bell sounded, meaning kids would start rolling into my classroom in roughly five minutes. “Annabelle? No. God. We were in a study group together. I was never interested in her.”

  “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

  I stood when the first student came in early and took a seat. “There’s nothing to tell, Caleb. Thank you for helping me out last night. I’ll make it up to you.” And that was all the information my best friend would get.

  Caleb clapped me on the shoulder with a smile. “Anytime. You know where to find me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Three girls from first period came racing through the door. “Hey, Dr. Paxton.” The sound of the trio swooning caused me to roll my eyes at Caleb.

  “Good morning, ladies.”

  Caleb shook his head with a laugh. “You’ve got your hands full. I don’t envy you.” And then he pushed through another group taking their seats.

  * * *

  Third period was worse than I had expected. Colbie not only didn’t give me the cold shoulder, she didn’t show up. Instead, Jess pranced in—like she knew everything that had happened—stared me in the eye, and handed me a note from the principal. As I read it, Jess pulled Colbie’s essay from her backpack to turn in. I didn’t have a clue what was going on other than Colbie was helping the administration this period, and I was to send any assignments or materials home with Jess.

  Oddly, I didn’t worry about Colbie exposing me. She wouldn’t. The fact that she’d been so hurt by last night that she couldn’t face me and risked missing a lecture that could affect her run for valedictorian was what sent up red flags. And those flags were so huge, they might as well have had flashing neon lights. She was spinning, and I prayed it wasn’t out of control.

  When I got home that night, unable to strip thoughts of her from my mind, I wondered if Colbie was trying to challenge me. I had a stack of essays to grade for AP and assignments for all of my other classes as well. I typically saved AP for last so I ended my day on a high. Not today. I went straight for third period. Colbie’s essay was at the bottom of the stack since it was the first handed in. But the poetic words that typically filled her pages were rather bored and stagnant. She’d done the assignment, and even after reading all the other essays, including Jess’s,
it was heads above the rest. But for Colbie, it was C quality at best, and that was being lenient.

  I held off on marking it with a grade. I didn’t have to return the papers to the students the following day, although I typically tried to. This went beyond my expertise. I needed someone with tenure to give me advice on how to handle what I considered a delicate situation.

  The next day, I went to the teachers’ lounge during my planning period instead of staying in my classroom.

  I hadn’t considered how to inconspicuously approach the subject with another member of the staff. Initially, I’d thought one on one might be best, but when I had gotten to the lounge and five of the upper-class honors teachers sat at one table, I decided a general question to a group would be best.

  “Hey, Eli. Have a seat.” Kendra Cross welcomed me with a smile when she pulled out a chair next to her.

  The conversation stopped when I joined the group, and the women all stared at me like I was prey. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. “Ladies, it’s nice to see you all.” I opened my lunch and took out an orange. It gave me something to fidget with so no one realized how apprehensive I was.

  A chorus of hellos flooded the table, followed by glassy-eyed looks of longing. If only they knew just how unavailable I was. It took effort not to grunt and laugh. Instead, I stuck my thumbnail into the rind and began to peel.

  Susan Markey leaned forward with her elbows on the table, catching my eye. Of the five, she was by far the most attractive, not just physically. She was smart and quick witted. If she weren’t ten years my senior and I’d met her before I met Colbie, things might have been different. As it stood, there was nothing between us. “What brings you in here? Don’t you usually spend the period in your classroom or in Caleb’s office?”

  I didn’t question why she’d kept tabs on me or knew how I spent my time. It didn’t matter. The opening presented itself, and I needed to take it. “Actually, I was hoping I could ask you guys a question.”

  Eyebrows went up and expectant eyes grew wide. It wasn’t like I planned to ask any of them out, especially not in a group, so I didn’t have a clue what they were excited about. The room had gotten entirely too quiet, and with students in class, there was no noise coming from the halls, either. It was an illusion, but the absence of sound somehow made the walls seem like they were closing in.

  “Have any of you had any experience with an exceptional student suddenly turning in mediocre work?” I scanned the faces around me, and each of them had fallen from hope to disappointment or possibly confusion.

  Kendra sat back. “I have.” She licked her lips, and her eyes filled with tears. “There was a boy about five years ago. Honors student. Well-liked by the student body. Popular. Athletic. Overall, great kid. It seemed like overnight he went from assertive and outgoing to introverted and shy. He went from As to Cs and Ds in a couple weeks.”

  “Did you go easy on him?”

  Kendra shook her head. “He was one of those kids whose C-quality work was still A-quality for the rest of the class. But I never believed in grading kids based on the class as a whole. I graded subjective work by the student’s capabilities and effort.” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard. When she swiped falling tears from her cheeks, I wondered if I wanted to know how this story ended.

  Susan put her hand on Kendra’s. “Are you talking about Michael Martin?”

  That name didn’t mean anything to me, yet it clearly did to everyone else. “What happened?” I asked, taking note of each woman’s solemn expression.

  Kendra had a hard time getting out words. “I gave him the grades he earned.” She’d drifted off into a memory I knew nothing about. “I’d give anything to go back and talk to him. Ask him what was going on. Why things had changed.” The tears flowed faster than she could catch them.

  Like a CD stuck on repeat, I parroted my last question. “What happened?” Two words croaked into the mostly vacant room and echoed off the walls.

  Susan answered when her friend couldn’t. “He committed suicide.”

  “Jesus.” I hadn’t expected that. “Does anyone know why?”

  Susan and Kendra exchanged glances while the other women at the table chewed on their lips or stared at their lunches. “He’d been sexually abused by a family member. Because he was a minor, most of the details were kept from the public. Kendra found out more than she should because her husband is an investigator who was assigned to the case.”

  Each breath I took burned the back of my raw throat, and my jaw hung open, not quite sure I understood how it all connected. “He didn’t tell anyone? The kids I mean.” It was a stupid question, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around abuse of any type.

  Kendra regained a bit of her composure, and after a few sniffles and a napkin blotted under her eyes, she gave me more of the story. “He told his best friend who happened to be the quarterback of the football team. It got out to other players on the team, and rumors started that called Michael’s sexuality into question. It snowballed. Fast.” Her head bobbed slowly, and she let the silence linger in the air for a moment. “Kids are cruel, Eli. Especially when one at the top of the pack falters. They see the weakness and pounce.”

  “Do you regret the bad grades? Or not asking him what caused them?”

  Kendra took a drink of her water and contemplated my question. She adjusted her body in the hard, plastic chair, but I doubted it was the seat that had her fidgeting. “A bit of both. I contributed to his downhill slide. And I wonder if I could have helped him had I known what was going on.”

  The other ladies at the table disappeared from my focus, and it was as if Kendra and I were talking, just the two of us. “What if he had told you? What would you have done?”

  “Legally, we’re required to report abuse. But this is a small town, and the truth is, I probably would have tried to talk to his parents first. See if we could get him help. But I know for sure, if I ever come across it again, I’ll turn the world upside down to save a student.” Kendra stared me straight in the eyes with absolute resolution marring her stern expression.

  And that was a sucker punch to the gut. I already knew the truth behind Colbie’s pain, and I was quite certain about where the slope got so slippery that she could no longer manage the terrain. What I didn’t know was how to go about addressing the situation without confessing the amount of time I’d spent with a student outside of school. The problem started in the Chapman house and trickled down a rocky path to me. But Colbie had been okay when I had met her. It wasn’t until I cut her off that the status quo changed, even if what had been wasn’t perfect.

  The other teachers talked around me, remembering Michael in his prime. I zoned out, thinking about the girl in my present. The mere thought of something happening to her caused panic to settle into my chest and my head to throb.

  By the time the bell sounded, ending my planning period, I’d convinced myself it was only one paper. I refused to tarnish her GPA over one missed mark. Instead, I tried to watch her like a hawk. To my dismay, she became a hawk who didn’t want to be watched and flew the coop anytime I got near.

  Within a matter of a few days, dark circles appeared under Colbie’s eyes, and her clothes hung looser than they had a couple weeks ago. She would answer questions when called on, yet she never raised her hand anymore. Gone were the debates between her and her classmates. Colbie and Jess appeared to be okay, and even though they never ate lunch together, I’d catch Colbie smiling in the halls or huddled up with her best friend in the library after school.

  No matter how hard I tried to stay away, during lunch I lingered near the practice rooms on the music hall, although not close enough that anyone would know I sat there to hear her play. And I managed to catch glimpses of her when she ran. I had hoped like hell she would text me or call, acknowledge my existence in one way or another. Throw me a bone to choke on. I would have taken a note from a carrier pigeon—anything to set my mind at ease. I got nothing other than deteriorating sc
hool work that, at some point, I’d have to address. I couldn’t keep looking past it.

  I’d just about reached the point that I refused to stay quiet any longer. Each assignment Colbie handed in was worse than the last. It shouldn’t matter that it was still better than everyone else’s, regardless of my justifying giving her As because of it. I clenched my jaw when it occurred to me that she might be testing me. None of the other teachers had mentioned her work slipping, and they talked about students all the time. Or possibly, they were all like me—giving her the benefit of the doubt and not wanting to be the first one to raise their hand about the star student. The muscles in my face ached from grinding my teeth, and a headache had formed at the base of my neck that worked its way up the back of my skull and rooted itself in my temples…throbbing.

  “Pax, what’s got you pissed off?” Caleb hadn’t bothered to knock since my door stood open.

  I covered Colbie’s paper with my grade book and set my red pen on top of the stack. I forced myself to relax and smile. “Just grading papers.” I glanced down as if he didn’t know what I meant. “Be glad you teach P.E. and don’t have to deal with this.” The chuckle at the end made it come across light-heartedly.

  “I tried to tell you that in college.”

  Sadly, he had. He’d insisted being a physical education teacher would be so much easier—and more fun—than anything academic. And while I loved sports, and he might have been right, I loved English and literature more. It had a staying power that football didn’t. My body was proof of that every day when I got out of bed and something hurt.

  “You going to the game this weekend?” He sat on the top of the same desk he always did. “Most of the team is going to be tailgating. You can ride with me and Chas. Save on gas.”

  The UGA Auburn game was the day after tomorrow. I’d gone every year since I’d finished undergrad. This year, I’d made other plans—plans I hadn’t shared with Caleb or anyone else. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m staying home.” Jesus, I’d give anything for a student to storm through that door, needing assistance.