by S. Walden
“I can’t take it anymore!” she screamed.
He knew what she meant. Her parents: Gone. Avery: Gone. Security: Gone. It was the meltdown he’d been anticipating.
He took her hand and led her to the kitchen.
“I’m here. Cadence? Look at me,” Mark demanded.
She turned her face to him. He could tell her mind was far away.
“I’m. Here. This is our apartment. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you.”
He pulled a glass from the cupboard as he spoke. Calm. Reassuring. But her anxiety triggered his own, though he’d never reveal it. Jobless. Limited funds in his bank account. They would be fine for a while if he couldn’t find a job right away, but he really didn’t want to touch that money.
He filled the glass with water. “Drink,” he said.
She took a few sips, then wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“Better?”
She nodded. He didn’t believe her. It was one of those absent nods—the ones people give when they don’t believe what they’re agreeing to. They just agree because they think it’ll make the other person feel better.
She followed him around all morning, watching him go about his business. Collecting paperwork for a few jobs he applied for. Rinsing dishes in the sink. She helped him load the dishwasher, watching him surreptitiously from the corner of her eye. She didn’t want him out of her sight.
She sat in his lap on the floor while he organized a bottom shelf of records. And when that task was complete, she asked him to accompany her to the bathroom.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said to her as he held her hand down the hallway.
She didn’t believe him and made him keep the door open and stand where she could see him while she peed.
“I’m not crazy,” she said after she flushed the toilet.
Mark furrowed his brows.
“But I’m losing it, Mark. If one more person says you’re bad, I’ll fucking kill them.”
“Cadence . . .”
“I’m tired of it! I’m scared. I’m alone—”
“You’re not alone,” he interrupted.
“I am! You can’t be everything to me. Don’t you get it? I miss Avery. I miss my parents. I’m supposed to have other people in my life! I’m supposed to have parents! They’re supposed to do parent stuff with me! You know, be there and help me.”
“I’ll help you.”
“I’m supposed to have parents, Mark!” she yelled. “They’re supposed to love me!”
“I know.”
She pushed past him for the living room. He followed. She said very little for the rest of the day. She mostly stared off. He scratched everything off his to-do list and focused on mending her heart, assuaging her fear. He knew it was only temporary—her meltdown. He couldn’t shake the idea that it was all his fault.
I should have left her alone, he thought. She would still have a relationship with her parents if I’d only left her alone. But how? How could he? He knew he was selfish. He knew he’d complicate her life. And he didn’t have the power to stop himself. No, that’s not entirely right. He didn’t want to stop himself.
He cradled her in his lap that evening while they watched a movie. It was a comedy, and it worked to erase the tension in her muscles. He felt her body sink into him—pliable, soft, and yielding—and he knew she’d be better in the morning.
And she was.
***
“So what do you think?” Mark asked. He walked around the back of the car where Cadence stood.
“What do I think? I think you’re not buying me a car. That’s what I think,” Cadence replied.
The car owner raised his eyebrows at that. Mark didn’t want him to think they were wasting his time, so he shook his head, silently communicating, “Don’t listen to her,” and the man nodded. Mark wished at the moment he didn’t bring Cadence.
“You need a car,” he said. “You have a job. You’re gonna be starting school in a few months.”
“I cannot allow you to buy me a car. It’s a balance of power thing,” she replied.
The owner smirked.
“Will you give us a minute?” Mark asked him. He nodded and walked away. “Balance of power thing?”
“Yeah. You buy me stuff, you have the upper hand. Power over me.”
“Cadence, no one in the world has power over you. I’ve already learned that. And my buying you a car has nothing to do with power anyway. It’s practical. No, not even that. It’s a necessity. We can’t share a car.”
Cadence was quiet for a moment.
“How are you paying for this?”
“Money.”
She gave him an exasperated look. “Money from where?”
“My bank account.”
“That money is for your doctoral program.”
“Yes. And a car for you. So now listen. I know it needs a new paint job. It’s a little dinged up here and there, but I’ve picked apart that engine, and it’s sound. Really sound.” He leaned in and whispered to her, “This guy is selling it for way cheaper than what it’s worth.”
Cadence listened to his reasoning and nodded.
“It’s a great deal. And it’d be foolish for us not to get it.”
She nodded again.
“Are you telling me that I can buy you this car?”
She nodded for a third time.
“Use your words, Cadence.”
Her head snapped up, and she looked at him oddly.
“What? It was supposed to be a joke,” Mark said, confused.
“No, I was just thinking about the auto shop . . .” Her voice trailed off, remembering. Her confession to Avery. And Avery’s promise.
“Cadence?”
“Avery said that to me a long time ago. ‘Use your words.’ You just reminded me. That’s all.” She walked to the driver’s side door and opened it. She stuck her head in, looked around, then stood up and turned to Mark. “Let’s do it.”
It took a few miles for Cadence to get used to the clutch in her new, worn car. She’d been driving Mark’s Volkswagen to school and had gotten comfortable with that clutch. Now she thought she was learning to drive all over again, stalling at two lights and inviting the obnoxious sounds of blaring horns. Since when did East Cobb become Bitch Central?
“You need some practice,” Mark said, when they were safely home.
“Tell me about,” Cadence replied, shutting the car door.
They walked together to their apartment.
“I wanna pay you back,” Cadence said. “It’ll take a really long time, but I wanna do it.”
“You’re not indebted to me. And I don’t want you to pay me back. I want you to save your money.”
She opened her mouth to object.
“That would make me happy,” he added. He smiled at her.
“You’ll take it away if you get mad at me,” Cadence whispered.
Mark’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Cadence shook her head and mumbled, “Never mind.”
“I’m not your father,” he said carefully.
“I know.”
“This isn’t that kind of relationship. I don’t give you things with a condition attached to them.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
She didn’t know. She didn’t believe a word of it. Her father scared her into thinking that everything was conditional: gifts, time, love. She was wary, even of Mark’s intentions. She blamed it on a damaged heart. She didn’t trust anyone.
“I believe you,” she lied. She looked him in the eyes to appear convincing.
“Nothing in this relationship is conditional,” Mark explained. “Ever.”
“May I still pay you back?”
“No.”
Cadence sighed. “All right. Thank you for the car.”
There was no point arguing over it. She thought maybe she’d just start slipping bills in his wallet when he wasn’t looking. Five dollars here. Ten dollars
there. She’d keep a ledger in a notebook she’d hide somewhere in the guest bedroom. Then she wouldn’t feel so helpless and needy.
It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t trying to make her dependent on him. She didn’t think so, anyway. He was being practical. But she didn’t like the shift in power. Oh, who was she kidding? There was never a shift in power because he’d always had it. Bigger. Stronger. Older. More money. Suddenly her sneaking-bills-into-his-wallet plan seemed foolish and immature.
“Cadence?”
She looked up at Mark. “Yeah?”
“What are you thinking?”
“Is the tag office still open? Don’t I need a tag and all that?”
He nodded. “You’re right. I forgot.”
“I’m paying for it,” she decided.
He nodded again. He wouldn’t argue with her. He could see her brain working hard, trying to figure out how to make things even.
“Have you heard from your attorney?” Cadence asked suddenly.
Mark shook his head. “Why would I? Everything’s done.”
And that was the truth. He arrived at Crestview High early Tuesday morning last week before any students showed up. He was escorted by Officer Tyson to his old room to collect his personal belongings. Not really much there. Just a few pencils, pens, and notebooks. Oh, and a CD he’d forgotten he shoved in his desk drawer.
The whole experience creeped him out, and for the first time since he started his secret affair with Cadence, he felt ashamed. The principal, assistant principal, police officer, secretary all eyed him suspiciously as he walked down the hall. They wanted to intimidate him, and it worked a little. He even thought he should go home and look up that law once more, read it over again, make sure it really said what he thought it did.
I’m not a monster, he thought as he stepped over the threshold of the front doors. He would never return. He would never step foot inside another Georgia high school. That part of his teaching career was over. He wasn’t sad to say goodbye, but he couldn’t be without a job for long. He had a girlfriend to support.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, noting Cadence’s look of concern. “I promise you that it’s over.”
That was a partial truth. His trouble with Crestview High was certainly over, but now the real work began. Securing a job. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined. He had a purpose. And she was standing in front of him.
***
Cadence didn’t want to alarm Mark. There was no point in telling him that the bullying at school escalated as soon as word spread about their affair. Students were relentless. They were all in on it. Even Jacob had changed, but she understood why. He was freaked out by her bizarre behavior last Monday morning. She did wrap her hands around his throat, after all. She couldn’t expect him to say “hello” to her in the halls anymore. But he wasn’t abusive towards her. He just steered clear.
“Gosh, if I was fucking my math teacher, I guess I’d be graduating, too,” Alaina said to Cadence before class one morning.
“I earned my grade,” Cadence replied. Why? Why Cadence? Why would you say that? Why engage her at all?
A group of students burst out laughing.
“Yeah, you did,” one replied, simulating a blowjob.
Cadence rolled her eyes and took her seat. Just a week and a half left. She could do it, if the substitute teacher didn’t fail her. She noticed that even Ms. Donovan seemed to have it out for her. A punishment for her deceit. She left the subtle signs on Cadence’s quizzes.
“Hey! Let me see your quiz for a second,” Cadence called to Jacob after class.
“Huh?”
“Just let me see,” she said, snatching his paper. She held up the quizzes side by side and compared the red marks. Sure enough, her wrong answers were marked with large, angry red X’s that spanned a quarter of the page. Jacob’s one X was much smaller. “What the fuck?”
Cadence stormed over to Ms. Donovan. She slapped the quizzes on the desk and leaned in.
“What is this?” she asked.
“What is what?”
“This X on my quiz. Why isn’t Jacob’s X huge like mine?”
“Are you serious, Cadence?”
“Yes.”
Ms. Donovan blinked.
“Why are my X’s huge and Jacob’s X is tiny?” Cadence asked. She wouldn’t let it go. It was straight up bullying, and by a teacher no less!
“Cadence, perhaps I graded the quizzes at separate times,” Ms. Donovan offered. She sounded annoyed.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Frankly, I don’t care what you believe. You’re paranoid.”
“I know what you’re doing. Subtle intimidation? Give me a break. Bully me all you want. You can’t fail me. I’m passing this class and leaving this hellhole.”
“You need to watch the language.”
“You need to stop being a fucking bitch!”
And that was the end of that conversation. Cadence found herself back in Mrs. Jackson’s office being lectured about respect for authority.
“Explain this to me!” Cadence showed the assistant principal the quizzes.
“Why do you have Jacob’s quiz?”
“Mrs. Jackson, look at the X’s, please.”
“Cadence, you’re spinning. No one is out to get you. No one is bullying you.”
Cadence’s mouth dropped open. Maybe Mrs. Jackson should have been in calculus this morning when some dipshit simulated a blowjob for her. Or last week when she was tripped in the hallway. Or two days ago when she was solicited for sex by four different boys. The bitch was crazy.
“You have a week and a half. And I’d like to see you graduate, just as you’d like to see yourself graduate.”
Cadence sighed.
“Suck it up and deal with it.”
Cadence raised her head.
“Really? What happened to the other week when I was in here, and you were consoling me about all the abuse I’ve been taking at school? Now I’m not being bullied? I don’t get it. Was that just a ploy to get me to say something bad about Mark? Because I won’t.”
“That’s enough, Cadence.”
Cadence bit her tongue and stared out the window.
“Morning detention for the rest of the week. And an apology to Ms. Donovan.”
Cadence snorted.
“I mean it,” Mrs. Jackson said. “She may not have the authority to see that you do not graduate, but I sure as hell do.”
Cadence snapped her head up at the sound of Mrs. Jackson’s threat.
“Do you understand me?”
Cadence nodded grudgingly. And then she left the office before being excused. It wasn’t until she was halfway down the hall that it happened. Clarity. Bam! It punched her in the face. Big-fisted clarity that bruised her cheekbone. She finally got it. These women were angry at her—angry because she wasn’t a victim after all. They would have coddled her had she been a victim of abuse at the hands of a teacher. But she wasn’t. She was a willing participant, and therefore, became their enemy.
Why? She couldn’t say, but she wasn’t about to let these bitches treat her like shit for the next week and a half. And she was graduating, too, even if she had to steal her diploma.
She decided to get her apology over with now instead of later. Waiting would only make it worse. She knocked softly on the classroom door, then entered.
Ms. Donovan raised her eyebrows. “May I help you?”
“I’m supposed to apologize to you,” Cadence said, standing in the doorway.
“So this is a fake apology,” Ms. Donovan replied, snorting.
“Pretty much.”
“You don’t feel badly at all for calling me a fucking bitch, do you?” Ms. Donovan asked.
Cadence was unsure where the conversation was headed. She didn’t know how she was expected to answer, so she told the truth.
“No.”
Ms. Donovan’s lips curled into a nasty grin. “Then I don’t feel badly for what I’m about
to tell you.”
Cadence steeled herself.
“You think you’re a really special girl because a teacher showed you some interest. Isn’t that right? You’re special because he said nice things to you and fucked you. Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She paused for effect. “You’re not.”
Cadence realized this had nothing to do with breaking girl code. That’s what she originally thought as she walked back to calculus to fake apologize. She thought Ms. Donovan was angry with her because she was dating a man who should be dating an older woman—an older woman like Ms. Donovan. But she realized in that moment that it had nothing to do with girl code. It had to do with something terrible that happened in Ms. Donovan’s past.
“He broke it off, didn’t he?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“What are you talking about?” Ms. Donovan snapped.
“Your teacher. You loved him, and he ended it,” Cadence said quietly.
Ms. Donovan’s face twisted in disgust. “They all do. You’re not special, Cadence. He’ll leave you, too. You’re just a stupid little girl who can’t see past his charms and lies.”
Cadence shook her head. She knew it wasn’t true. This woman wanted to feed her poison because her heart was warped and jaded. But Cadence wouldn’t let her. She folded her hands over her heart. They acted as a shield against Ms. Donovan’s putrid words.
“I’m sorry he did that to you,” Cadence said.
“Get out.”
“I’m sorry he broke your heart.”
“I said get out!”
Cadence left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She peeked through the window and saw Ms. Donovan bury her face in her hands. And then her body shook. And suddenly large angry X’s on Cadence’s quiz weren’t important anymore. It really had nothing to do with her—this pain she was witnessing inside Mr. Connelly’s old classroom. It was about heartbreak and an easy target. Heartbreak and ruin. Heartbreak and bitterness.
Heartbreak.
Mark sat in his car staring through the windshield. Any minute now, Cadence, dressed in graduation robe and cap, would round the corner with her brother and Fanny. All he wanted was to see her smile.
