by C. S Luis
“Yeah John, he would say that; he sure has a way with words. But do you honestly think he means anything special by it? You’re just a girl, and he probably knows you have a crush on him, and well, like all men, he craves the attention of a young girl.” She put her hand on my shoulder, but I pulled away.
“Oh, come now, I’m only telling you so you don’t get your hopes up that John would ever see anything in a silly little girl like you.”
At that moment, Mr. Slater, along with Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez came into the cafeteria. Mr. Slater as he had promised tried to act surprised.
“Wow! What is all this? This is a big surprise! And who do I have to hold responsible for this?”
Everyone at once pointed over at me. Ms. Stephens stepped away; she was smiling at Mr. Slater, but his eyes were only on me. I sensed a bit of jealousy fuel from her at that moment; although her words had left me slightly burned and I couldn’t quite reward Mr. Slater with the same full smile as before.
Mr. Slater motioned me to him by lifting a single finger. I slowly walked up to his side as everyone’s eyes were on us, including Ms. Stephens. Her smile seemed to be aching for his attention. He seemed to be trying hard to avoid her and Ms. Witherson. Could it be true? Were they romantically involved? But what did it matter?
Mr. Slater put an arm around me, and I wrinkled a lip at Ms. Stephens’ and Witherson’s jealous expressions.
Mr. Slater lifted a glass to toast, and Mrs. Wallace passed the glasses around the small faculty that had gathered to wish Mr. Slater a happy birthday.
“To Claudia!” Mr. Slater said, and I spun my head over at him puzzled. “For making a man sure feel special on his birthday.”
He smiled down at me, drinking from his glass, and the rest of the group drank to his toast. At that moment, a song began to play: Just my baby and me. I think it was Clarence Frogman, another of Mr. Slater’s favorites. Now, why did I feel that it was directed at me when Mr. Slater glanced over at me once the song began to play?
Just my baby and me…
The song continued, and I blushed and looked away.
The rest of the evening went well, of course. Mr. Slater blew a few candles from his cake and cut slices of cake to have them passed around the faculty. Mr. Slater opened a few presents; few were ties, others were silly gag gifts from Thomas and Sam.
Then Ms. Stephens stepped over to him and handed him her gift. Mr. Slater’s half-smile surfaced briefly; he seemed almost afraid to open it. But when he did, he found two tickets, and Mr. Slater’s eyes blinked and widened like saucers as he lifted them to show the others.
“They’re tickets to Las Vegas for two. Air and hotel paid. Thought we could do something special for your birthday, John,” she said, and the red mouth spread into a wide grin. She seemed to be competing with me, cocking her head back. Everyone clapped, even Michael.
“Wow, Karen, that’s very nice of you. Quite an expensive gift…I don’t know if I can accept this,” Mr. Slater answered. She smiled, blinking her eyes at him.
“Oh, John it was no trouble at all,” she answered. “I just wanted you to have the best.”
Mr. Slater tried to smile, unable to reply, until he came to my gift. As soon as he saw my name, the smile on his face returned as he looked up at me, and his lip slightly curled. He picked up the box with blue wrapping. He pulled off the card and read the caption but stopped, feeling its meaning was more important to him.
“A party and a gift? Claudia, this is really too much,” I could sense the jealousy in Ms. Stephens’ voice after he had already forgotten her gift so quickly.
She merely said, “How cute.”
Mr. Slater frowned, letting a single sigh escaped his lip, disgusted at her comment. Mr. Slater opened the wrapped box, and then he opened it up; from within it he pulled out a frame with a picture of Michael and the two of us. It was the first picture we had taken together before the incident. Of course, it was a picture for the yearbook. I had just been there when the photographer Jimmy was taking the picture.
“Claudia, where did you find this?” He asked, and he was surprised and pleased. I could tell.
“I had the photography class develop it for me. Michael and I picked the frame. Do you like it?” I asked.
“Yes, I do!” he said, and he looked up at me.
“I love it!” He reached to hug me. I could feel him hold me tightly. Ms. Stephens’ jealousy was burning a hole on my backside.
As he pulled away, he admired it again, recalling the events of that day as I had. We had gone through this together, and as a result, had become close friends. I wanted him to remember that, so he knew there was never any reason for him to leave.
“There’s more,” I whispered, pointing into the box. He blinked up with the look of surprise with a sparkle caught in his eyes.
“Claudia,” he glanced at me. “More?” He shook his head and a single finger back at me, and then he pulled out two tickets.
“I know how you like basketball, so Michael and I pitched in and got you tickets to go see the Rockets. They’re playing LA. And we know how you like the LA Lakers.” I made a face. At least I figured he did, recalling the way he was watching the game that night at our house when the Rockets were playing the Lakers.
“So, now you can go watch them as the Rockets kick their…” Michael eyed me. “Kick their butt,” I instead said. Mr. Slater laughed, just as everyone else did, with the exception of Ms. Stephens and Ms. Witherson, whom I think were making distasteful expressions.
“I don’t know what to say. This is amazing. I love it! Thanks, sweetheart and Michael. Thanks to both of you. And to everyone for the generous gifts. But to you especially, Claudia.”
He put a hand on my cheek. I noticed Ms. Stephens walk away into the side entry of the cafeteria, and everyone else had scattered to enjoy the cake and food among all things.
I noticed Mr. Slater look away towards Ms. Stephens; he looked troubled. He grabbed the gift she had given him and then looked back at me.
“Excuse me for a second, sweetheart.”
I nodded, and he gathered the remains of the gift and the tickets Ms. Stephens had given him and walked over to where she was standing. I couldn’t hear what was being said, but at one point, Ms. Stephens turned and looked over at me. As Mr. Slater handed her back her gift, he said something to her. At which point she slapped him across the face, looking back at me, and she spun her head back and darted out of the cafeteria entryway and was gone. Mr. Slater put a hand over his cheek as he slowly staggered back like a wounded animal.
“Is everything alright, Mr. Slater?” I asked him as he rubbed at the side of his face. He turned to me with a smile. “It is now,” he simply said.
“I hope it wasn’t something I said,” I volunteered but was really smiling inside, not by the fact that she had slapped him but by the fact that she was gone.
“No,” he said with a smile. “Why would it be?” He asked, and I looked up at him somewhat slightly guilty.
“I told her you weren’t interested in her.”
He looked back at me somewhat surprised. “You did?”
I bit my lip. “Yeah.”
And he started laughing, not exactly what I thought he would do.
“That makes sense,” he answered.
“Is that why she slapped you?” I asked, feeling slightly guilty.
“No, that’s not why she slapped me,” he again said. “She said something not very nice, something not very nice about a certain person I love and care for. And I told her if that was the case, I didn’t think our relationship was going to work.”
“Oh,” I whispered; he must have meant me. His eyes said so; they always betrayed him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I’m not,” he said. “And you’re right. I wasn’t interested in her,” he again grinned.
Then the song, You make me feel so young, by Frank Sinatra, began to play in the background, and Mr. Slater extended his hand an
d said, “Can I have this dance?”
It was such an appropriate song. I bit my lower lip and nodded, taking his hand as he pulled me close, and we began to dance. I noticed Mr. Vasquez taking pictures of the event. And I soon found him snapping a picture of Mr. Slater and me as he came closer. Mr. Vasquez happily took the picture and disappeared away to take more pictures of the others in the room.
Then a different song began to play, and I didn’t recognize at first; it was My Girl by The Temptations.
I stared up at Mr. Slater; he was looking at me with that big grin on his face.
I guess you could say this was our song.
The smile on his face widened, and then he simply said, “Thank you for the party, Miss Belle.”
21
John Slater
Then the song I awaited began to play. It was the song I had asked Michael to play for me. And as we were dancing, it started.
Claudia immediately looked at me when the singer began to sing my girl, my girl and knew it was a song for her. I could only smile down at her; it was all I could do.
“Thank you for the party, Miss Belle,” I whispered. I was losing control of myself. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to give her any indication there was anything wrong. But I didn’t want to let her go, knowing this was the last time I would hold her, the last time I would see her smile and hear her sweet voice say my name.
Claudia looked into my eyes, and I think she realized what she had done for me had really affected me. And I would be lying if I said it hadn’t. I was a mess, and she could see it.
She wrapped her arms around me and tightly held me. I was shaking. “I wanted to make sure you knew we cared about you, that I cared about you,” she said.
I looked at her, and I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to leave, and at the same time, I wanted to fall into her arms like a weak lovesick fool and beg her to hold me forever and never let me go. I didn’t know what to do with myself.
She looked over at me strangely, uncertain of the expression on my face. I tried to smile behind the tears that seemed to want to come from within. Far to the side, I could see Mrs. Wallace helping pack up the things; the guys were folding up the tables and putting things up.
“Mr. Slater, is everything alright?” Claudia asked. I looked at her and nodded, trying to hide my eyes from her.
“Can you excuse me for a moment, sweetheart?” I said politely and quickly walked away out of the cafeteria, and I ducked into the dark stairwell nearby and broke down. I angrily hit the wall with my hand.
What the fuck are you doing? Get it together!
You think I want to leave? You think I want to abandon her?
But we can stay.
No, we can’t; you know we can’t.
Why can’t we? She needs me! She needs us!
We have to protect her; you know that. And the only way to do that is to leave.
“Yes,” I hissed through tears. I wiped at my eyes and gathered myself. I turned my back to the light of the stairwell, trying to regain my composure.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” I heard a voice suddenly say. I spun around to find Michael standing a few steps behind me.
I wiped my eyes, hoping to have concealed any noticeable tears or any idea that I had been upset.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t say anything at first.
“Why?” He asked.
“To protect her,” I simply offered. “It was a mistake coming back. I’ve been putting all of you in danger.”
Michael took a deep breath. “John,” he tried to say, but he couldn’t offer me anything else.
“When?”
“Tonight,” I answered. He blinked, and I looked over at him.
“You have to tell her,” he said. I glared over at him. I couldn’t. She would hate me. I was going to break her heart.
“I can’t!” I nearly shouted. “I can’t…” I gazed at him distraught. I was falling apart. He was staring back at me in disbelief. He had never seen me like this.
“She will hate you if you don’t tell her,” he very plainly said. I blinked up at him astound when he said those ugly words. I wanted to collapse.
“It’s late,” he then said. “I’m taking Claudia home.”
He meant to walk out but then stopped again.
“If you care about her, you’ll tell her,” he said. Why did he have to do that to me? But I knew he was right. “I’m glad you stayed for the party…Happy Birthday, John.”
He walked out into the hallway; the music had ended long ago, and I gathered myself and slowly reentered the cafeteria. Mrs. Wallace, Mr. Vasquez, and Mr. Claypool bid me a happy birthday and left. I caught sight of Michael and Claudia getting ready to leave. Slowly, I walked towards them and Claudia caught sight of me. I tried my best to smile back, but I was a mess inside.
“Mr. Slater, is everything okay?” She asked, and I smiled big for her.
“Everything is fine,” I lied, and I noticed Michael’s expression and the frown that followed, and he moved to the cafeteria door.
“Claudia, we have to go,” he merely said, and his tone sounded so bad that even my girl noticed.
“Aren’t you coming, Mr. Slater?” She asked, and I nodded.
“Oh, you guys go on. I have to get a few things from my office first.”
“Should we wait for you?” She asked, and I smiled.
“No, sweetheart; that’s not necessary. You go ahead. It’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I lied through my teeth.
“Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Slater. I’ll see you tomorrow,”
“Goodnight sweetheart and thanks for the party. I really enjoyed it,” I said, and she smiled and joined Michael by the cafeteria entrance.
He looked over at me, and allowed Claudia past him.
“Goodnight, John,” he said. Then he and my girl walked out. I wanted to drop on my knees and sob, but I gathered myself, picking up the framed picture Claudia had given me as a gift. I stared at our images from the frame. God, she was beautiful. She was perfect.
I came into my office and came around my desk. I looked at the frame in my hand and pulled it apart and took the picture from inside. I examined the picture briefly as I took a breath. The song my girl found its way into my thoughts again, and I foolishly began to sob. I wiped at my tears and put the picture from the frame inside of my suit pocket. I then dropped the frame into the wastebasket. I took the ties and other gifts and put them into one of the drawers of the desk. I then grabbed the tickets and put them in an envelope and wrote Janet’s name on it.
I could picture Michael and Claudia outside in the parking lot, getting into Michael’s SUV. She didn’t know what was coming.
I took a piece of paper from the side of a notepad and began to write my letter to her. Michael’s eyes and his words kept repeating in my mind.
You have to tell her. She will hate you if you don’t.
He was right, but I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have the will to face her and tell her I was leaving her for good because I was a failure, because I couldn’t protect her, and because if I stayed, I could endanger her.
The screen of my laptop came alive. It was The Man in White. It was time to go. I didn’t take his call. I knew I had to leave. I closed the laptop and continued to write my letter:
My Dearest Claudia,
I stopped. I didn't want to go on. But I knew I had to. Taking a breath, I began again. “I love you, Claudia,” I whispered. “And I'm doing this only because I do...Because I love you so much, and I know I promised I'd take you with me. I wish I could, but baby I can't. I can't! I hope you understand,” I whispered. “And I hope one day you can forgive me. I love you so much...”
But that's not what I wrote, and I wish that I could have. I put the note in a school envelope and wrote Claudia's name on it and then tucked it under the nameplate.
I rose, taking the laptop from the top of the desk and closing the briefcase. I placed the other envelope with Janet’s
name under her computer keyboard.
I walked that long hallway from the assistant principal’s office one last time and then pass the cafeteria, looking back before exiting through the big heavy metal doors and stepping out into the parking lot. The black SUV was already waiting for me when I walked down.
Bryce stood by the open door of the SUV; he looked pleased. Had he come all this way to Houston simply for me? Two men in black suits rushed over to me, and I handed them the damaged laptop and the briefcase I was holding. Another one took my car keys as I pulled them out, stepping close to the door of the SUV.
I said nothing to Bryce, only handed him my phone. I could no longer use it, and I understood that. Too many people had the number. I climbed into the SUV, and he followed. The Man in White sat opposite me. One of the men closed the door, another got into my Shelby and pulled out from the parking space, and I saw the car speed off.
Bryce merely motioned the driver to drive away without saying a word, and I took one last look at Milton before we pulled out into the street. I turned to look out the window, dwelling in silence and in the pain of my broken heart.
Bryce was surprisingly silent, and I was relieved. I didn’t have the strength to argue with him, nor the will to hold back any emotion I felt at that point. He would know I was a wreck. If he said a damn thing he would have known she had gotten into my head far more than he could’ve possibly imagined.
22
The Long Kiss Goodbye
Claudia
I came into school fairly early. I wanted to see him because after the night at his party, I felt closer to him than I had ever been. I didn’t see his car, so I guessed he wasn’t here yet. I thought of making him coffee and surprising him with my presence. We got out of the car, and Michael seemed slightly silent, but it was quite early and I could image how tired he could possibly be with all the duties of a principal, so I didn’t think anything of it.
