by Parker, Ali
“I’m sorry about being late,” Christopher said approaching the desk. “I’m never late. I underestimated the traffic getting here. I’ll leave earlier next time.”
“It’s fine. You’re new here. You get a free pass this time.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I collected my things and headed over to the bakery where Kami was working for the week. She was sitting at a table sipping coffee when I walked in. “Gee, you’re working hard,” I commented.
“I’ve been here since four. I’m on a break.”
I laughed at her grumpiness. “I want coffee and a croissant,” I told her.
She waved to the counter. “Help yourself. Like I said, I’m on a break.”
“Your customer service sucks,” I told her.
“I don’t care.”
I headed behind the counter and helped myself, ringing up my stuff and running my credit card. I had spent many hours working in the bakery to help put myself through college. I knew my way around the place.
I sat down and sipped my coffee, taking a bite of the flaky croissant and moaning with pleasure. “So good.”
“You’re in a good mood.”
I shrugged. “It was a good class.”
She stared at me, scrutinizing me. “Did you get laid?”
My mouth dropped open. “No! Why would you say that?”
“Because you have a weird look on your face. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you after a night of good sex. I don’t remember what the look is.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I had a good class. There’s this guy—”
“Ha! You’ve got a crush on a student!”
“No, shut up. Let me finish. This guy, older. Like a lot older. Well, I guess not technically a lot older than me, but the rest of the students. He’s so smart and he is really into the material.”
“You mean he’s into you.”
I shook my head. “No! Gah. Would you stop.”
“Is he attractive?”
“Yes.”
“You want to bone him,” she stated.
“Oh my god. What is wrong with you? Do you think of anything besides sex?”
“I think you should flunk him. Give him a big fat F on his next paper and tell him you will be willing to give him an extra credit assignment. Three orgasms for an A.”
I sighed. “I know your mother, so I can’t blame her.”
“Blame her for what?”
“For you. You are just a bad egg.”
She grinned. “Tell me more about the sexy student.”
“No. You make everything dirty.”
She laughed. “I make everything more fun. Besides, I can tell you’re thinking about it. You have the hots for him.”
“He’s a student.”
“How old is he?”
“Forty-four.”
She grinned. “So, you asked?”
“We had lunch yesterday and it came up.”
“Ha!” she said, slapping her hand on the table. “I knew it. You’ve got the hots for him.”
“He’s a nice guy. He’s new to the area and we just had lunch.”
“Here’s the thing, he’s not really a student. He’s old enough to know better. It isn’t like you would be taking advantage of him. I think you should go for it.”
I slowly shook my head. “No, I can’t do that. A student is a student. Besides, I never said anything about a sexual relationship. It’s just nice to be able to have a conversation with someone who is mature and intelligent.”
She nodded. “Uh-huh, sure.”
“Stop.”
“Don’t let a good one pass you by,” she warned.
I ignored her comments. I couldn’t let myself get the idea in my head. It would only lead to trouble. I didn’t want to think about him like that. I would never be able to look him in the eyes if I started fantasizing about him. He was an astute man. He’d know I was thinking something very naughty.
Chapter 9
Christopher
I arrived to class about ten minutes early, confident I had finally gotten the routine down. I saw Leila, Professor Bell, sitting at her desk. I smiled, looking forward to another interesting class. I figured I would make a little small talk with the class relatively empty.
I stepped inside, walking towards her desk. “Good morning,” I greeted.
“Hi,” she said with a bright smile. “You’re early.”
“I am. I think I have the route down.”
“Good. How was your drive?”
“Easy. The traffic isn’t too bad.”
“Where do you drive in from?” she asked.
“Lake Conroe,” I told her.
Her expression changed. “That’s a very nice area to live.”
I was about to answer her when my phone started to ring. “Sorry,” I mumbled and rushed into the hall to silence my phone. Then I saw the number. “Shit,” I muttered, a feeling of dread filling me as I answered the damn call.
“Mr. Evans, this is Mr. Hollister at the high school, we need to talk.”
I inwardly groaned. The words I hoped I would never have to hear again. “I’m on my way,” I said with resignation.
I quickly walked back into the class, Leila now on her feet as she greeted students coming in. “Good morning,” she greeted as people filed in. “Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’m sorry, something has come up and I have to go. Is there anything I need to know about today’s lecture?”
She shrugged. “Just keep doing the reading.”
“I will. I’m sorry,” I said, hating to be missing a class but duty called.
“You’re good?”
“Yes, fine. Are you sure there’s nothing important I’m going to miss?”
She shrugged. “If you get everything taken care of and you are here tomorrow, you can stay after class and I can cover anything you might miss today.”
“Thank you!” I blurted out. “I do take this class seriously. I don’t want to screw it up.”
“You’re not screwing up. It’s fine.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I better get going.”
She offered me another small smile. I turned and took long strides across the parking lot to my waiting truck. As I drove to the school, I thought about how much the call had been like the ones I got back in Minnesota. Olin just couldn’t seem to toe the line. I knew it stemmed from his mother’s death and I had tried to be understanding, but at some point, the kid needed to step up and acknowledge getting into trouble was no way to honor her memory.
I parked my truck and headed inside the school. I hated being the parent of the kid that was always in trouble. I knew I shouldn’t make it about me, but his shitty behavior was a direct reflection on me. I couldn’t imagine what they thought about me. I hadn’t said that to him, knowing that would only encourage him to be more of a shit.
I gave my name to the secretary. She gave me the look. The look that said she expected to get to know me well with my problematic kid. I was led to the principal’s office, where Olin was sitting in a chair, arms folded across his chest and glowering at anyone who looked his way. I saw the bloody lip and shook my head. It didn’t take much to figure out what had happened.
“You good?” I asked in a low voice. I hated to see my son injured. I knew he was definitely old enough to handle himself and a bloody lip wasn’t worthy of panicking, but it was the thought. My son had been hurt.
“I’m fine,” he growled.
I nodded before turning to walk into the office. “Hello,” I greeted the balding man sitting behind the desk.
He looked up. “Ah, you must be Mr. Evans.”
“I am.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t you close the door and have a seat?”
I felt like I was the one in trouble. I couldn’t be that upset with Olin. I had been in my fair share of scraps at school. My parents had been very familiar with the principal and all the staff. Resigned to
what was coming, I did as I was told and sat down, waiting for the man to say what it was he had to say. I was expecting to be told Olin was expelled.
“What’s going on?” I asked, wanting to get right to the heart of the situation.
He let out a dramatic sigh. “Olin has only been here a couple of days and he is not starting out on the right foot. I think it’s best to nip a problem in the bud before it can really become an issue.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I thought he was going to fit in better. I expected an adjustment, but I wasn’t expecting any problems.”
“I’ve spoken with Olin,” he started. “He’s a good kid. A good kid who seems to have lost his way a bit.”
“And yet I’m here,” I said, not being rude, but just feeling like I was failing at the parenting thing. “I can’t seem to find the right road to get him back on track. What happened?”
“Olin was in a fight.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I really do apologize. This is really not his normal behavior.”
“I’m a father of three boys, I know what it’s like. Boys tend to express their feelings a little differently than the girls. I have three of those as well. Boys tend to react without thinking.”
I felt a little better. The guy seemed genuinely nice. “Does it ever get better?” I asked.
He chuckled. “It does. I understand you’re a single father?”
“I am. My wife passed away a year ago.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. I assume Olin is having a difficult time.”
I nodded. “You could say that. She was killed in a car accident on her way to pick him up from basketball practice. He feels guilty. He’s been assured over and over it wasn’t his fault. It was a difficult time.”
The man looked truly saddened. “I see.”
“Olin isn’t a bad kid. I’m not a great father. I’m struggling a bit and I think Olin is suffering the consequences of my inadequate parenting. My wife did the parenting, which is no excuse, but we’re trying to start over. Coming here was supposed to be a fresh start for him.”
“I understand. You’re doing the best you can, and I can see he’s a good boy.”
“So, what happened?”
He smiled. “I honestly don’t know. I guess you can say that’s a good thing. The boys have adopted a code of silence. Neither will tell me who started the fight. They won’t tell me what it was about. I’ve sent the other kid home for the day and I am going to do the same for Olin. This is their one free pass. I know boys can get heated. I do not condone violence and I will not tolerate it in my school, but I also don’t believe in letting one mistake interrupt a whole life.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Take him home, let him cool off and when they come back together, I hope the problem will have been resolved. If there is another problem, then we will move to suspension.”
“Thank you for giving him a chance.”
“You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you and hopefully we won’t meet like this again.”
“No kidding,” I said, getting to my feet. “Thanks again. I’ll talk to him.”
“Good luck.”
I opened the door to find Olin still glowering. I jerked my head, silently telling him to get up. We walked out, neither of us saying a word as we climbed into the truck. I had no idea what to say to him. I felt like we had been in the same position so many times and nothing I said got through. Maybe silence was the answer.
No. I couldn’t just let it go. The kid needed to get his shit together. “What happened?” I asked him.
“Congratulations dad. It took you exactly three minutes to ask.”
“Don’t get smart with me. This is serious, Olin. What happened?”
“Nothing,” he said, reaching for his backpack.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he snapped, unzipping the damn thing.
“Don’t put your headphones on. Talk to me.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
I swallowed the anger. “You do have something to say. What was the fight about?”
“Nothing.”
“You randomly get your lip split?”
“I got in a few good hits too,” he defended.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Why? What made you think you had to punch someone?”
“Nothing. No reason.”
“Olin, did he start it or did you?”
“Does it matter?” he snapped.
The fact he hadn’t put on the headphones was a good sign. Not a great sign, but at least he had listened to me on that point. “It does matter. Is this something I need to expect to happen again?”
“I guess time will tell,” he quipped, using a line I often used.
“No, that’s not a good answer. I want to know if this is going to be a pattern. Is this because you’re the new kid at school?”
“Why do you need a reason?” he asked.
“Because I need to know how to fix it. I need to know what I can do to keep this from happening again.”
“Nothing.”
I was getting nowhere. It was always the same dead-end conversation with him. He never wanted to tell me what was going on in his life or his head. He hated me.
“This is probably going to piss you off, but I’m going to say it anyway. You need to get your shit together Olin. Your principal gave you a free pass this time, but he won’t do it again. Getting expelled from school isn’t an option. You’re going down a dark road. I don’t want to see you mess up your life. You’re young and you can change this.”
“Are you done?” he asked.
“No. I’m not done. I won’t be done until you are in a good place. I’m your father and my job is to do everything I can to help you get to that good place, even if it pisses you off and you hate me.”
“Whatever.”
I pulled into the driveway. “I want to talk about this,” I said turning off the truck but not getting out.
“You can talk, but I’m done listening.”
“I’m not giving up.”
He sighed. “Just stop. Stop trying to act like you’re a good parent. It’s too late.”
I watched as he got out and headed up the walk. I couldn’t let him win. I knew parenting was supposed to be tough, but it felt like I was on an impossible journey. I missed the days when he would throw his little arms around my neck and tell me he loved me. I so wanted him to let me in.
Pushing only seemed to make it worse. I had tried to back off. Tried to give him space. I had a feeling I had screwed up. I should have pushed him to let me in. The divide between us had only increased. I got out of the truck and headed inside. I could hear music coming from upstairs.
I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water. My eyes drifted to the lake. Maybe I could get him to go fishing. Everyone knew fishing was bonding. I had high hopes for the road trip to Texas. I had hoped the time inside the truck would force him to open up a little. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I think it only pushed him away further. I had no idea what I was going to do. I wanted to admit defeat. That would be easier and maybe it would make him happy. I’d love to see him happy. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him that way. I knew it hadn’t happened since his mother died.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the empty room. “I’m trying. God, I’m trying, but I just can’t seem to figure this out. Help me.”
Chapter 10
Leila
It was another successful class and the end of a great week. I had one more class for the day and then I was free for the weekend. I was enjoying the students in the class. At least half of them seem interested in the material. That was always my goal—half.
“Does anybody have any questions?” I asked the class.
There was a lot of head shaking followed by murmurs of nos.
“Have a great weekend and please read the material. It makes class better for all of us.”
Everyone seemed to rise at once, suddenly in a hurry to get out of the room as if they were afraid I would give them a horrible homework assignment. What they failed to realize was the fact I wasn’t exactly keen on the extra work it took to grade heavy assignments. I was not a glutton for punishment.
Christopher was in his usual front seat and gathering his things. I had tried hard not to focus my lecture on him alone, but it was hard not to. He always looked so involved. It felt like only me and him in the room and he was giving me his full attention. His blue eyes were on mine, making eye contact and never looking away.
“Hey, can you stay for a minute?” I asked Christopher.
“Sure,” he said, sitting back down in his chair. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to go over the material you missed yesterday if you had some time,” I said.
He nodded, then grimaced. “Can we do it over lunch. I didn’t have time to grab breakfast this morning and I am starving.”
I checked the time. “Sure, I’ve got another hour before my class. The café work for you?”
“Absolutely. It’s actually one of the best cafeterias I’ve ever been in.”
I laughed. “The kids are definitely spoiled.”
He smirked. “Kids? You’re about five minutes older than most of these kids.”
I giggled. “I feel like I’m much older. A single decade makes a lot of difference. They all seem so much younger than I was when I was their age.”
“That’s because you’re mature. These kids seem to be struggling a bit with that.”
“You’re so right. You should have been here for the first semester with all the bright-eyed freshmen. They are so easy to spot. By the end of the first semester, they have the haggard look of a real student.”
“I vaguely remember those days. Lots of hopes and dreams about what college is going to be like only to find it is a lot of work and very little sleep.”
I smiled and nodded. “The good ol’ days when you were convinced you would one day change the world with whatever shiny degree you earned. Then reality hits and you realize the ten thousand students in school with you all want the same job.”
He groaned. “I remember those days and not with any kind of fondness. Student loan debt and no job and no prospects.”
