by Jamie Knight
“No, not at all. I can handle anything. Believe me, I have my fair share of tragic stories,” I admit.
“Really?” she asks curiously. “What tragedies did Bryan Anderson endure to make him the football playing billionaire he is now?”
She puts me in the hot seat, and as I do a quick run through of my memories, I’m coming up empty on stories to tell. Fact of the matter is, I’ve had a pretty decent life. My parents are a bit overbearing. But they pushed me to become a football star so can I really think ill of them? They can be mean sometimes, but when I had trouble in school, they paid off my teaches and got me through. I have always been a gifted athlete so there isn’t much of a story to tell regarding my career as a football player. Once my parents bribed my way through college the rest was easy.
“Well, let’s focus more on you,” I say trying to keep her from finding out how easy my life has been, “was your friend’s kidnapping the driving force that led you to start Children of The Future?”
She nods, but before she can get more in-depth, both of our numbers are called out. We pick up our food, which helps lift our mood from the dower subject we are talking about. The decadence of our Puerto Rican food isn’t enough to distract us long though. After getting half way through her sandwich, Scout clears her throat to answer my question.
“Finding out about my friend’s death was a turning point. But as a kid there wasn’t much I could do. Even once I was a young adult, there wasn’t much I could do. I was raised by a single mother who I never saw because of how often she worked. She worked three jobs sometimes, so whenever I got to see her, she was either sleeping or on her way out of the house. I had a few family friends who I called uncles that would watch over me, but up until I was in college, I didn’t have anyone to rely on or share my ideas with,” she explains.
This certainly explains her desire to work with kids who aren’t able to get picked up immediately after school ends, but there’s still something I need to know and that’s why she’s wearing such a hardened emotional shell.
“But now,” she continues, looking off into the distance, “all I really have in my life is my organization. I don’t have many friends outside of work. My family is all dispersed across the country. And the one person I thought I could trust ended up boning me in the biggest way possible.”
“The guy who cheated on you?” I ask to be sure.
“The one and the same. He’s a real bastard who… I don’t want to get into it but let’s just say, he’s the reason I think the world is turning to shit. He’s the kind of person who gets you to trust them while they are lying the whole time.”
“Really?”
She chuckles, “Alright, I may have been exaggerating there, but he truly is a piece of shit.”
Scout continues to puzzle me. She’s a riddle I’m dying to figure out, I just need to have all of the pieces. Finding out more and more about her is proving to be enjoyable, though. She chuckles at her own description before taking the last couple of bites of her sandwich.
Once we’re both done eating, instead of parting ways, I offer to walk her home. Scout once again surprises me by agreeing to letting me accompany her. At the front of her place, she fumbles around for her keys while shooting continuous looks at me.
“Something wrong?”
She shakes her head and cracks a smile. “No, no. Just thank you for today. It was nice to have somebody to talk to and get all of my feelings off my chest. I feel pounds lighter. But I probably gained some pounds from that sandwich, so I guess it balances out,” she chuckles.
“It was my pleasure. I had a great time with the kids… and you. You’re a very interesting person, Scout,” I tell her. “So, see you tomorrow?”
“Actually,” she says, “I totally forgot that today is Friday. So, we won’t be seeing each other tomorrow. No school on Saturdays and Sundays.”
“Ah, then you get to sleep in. That must be nice.”
Scout shrugs. “I don’t know. I went on a shopping spree last week and bought a ton of books that were on sale so I might just occupy whatever free time I have this weekend reading.”
I nod. “Well, on that note, I think I’ll head on my way,” I tell her.
The enjoyment drains from her face. I realize that she’s becoming more and more interested in me, but I promised I would keep things professional. All that we have in common so far is that we both enjoy working with the kids. That isn’t a great foundation to start a relationship. Looking back at her, I can see that there’s something remaining unsaid between us.
“Bryan,” she whispers, “do you…” She stops and coughs. “Do you have a ride home? Palir’s coming to pick you up?”
“I’m just going to get an Uber. It’s a bit late to be bother Palir. Anywho, I’ll see you on Monday, Scout.”
“See you on Monday…”
Chapter Six
Scout
Watching Bryan walk away from my front door was a bittersweet moment, teetering closer to the bitter side.
I never would have pegged him for a great listener, what with him being a celebrity who is known for speaking and playing football, but what’s more surprising is that he’s a dork who can play twister with kids. He was just so cute with them and so understanding.
Even though we spent most of the day together, I find myself thinking that our time together was cut a bit short. Bryan didn’t mention being busy this weekend, but he kept elongating our day so it’s not as if he couldn’t have come in for a round of coffee or something else. He was really sending mixed messages.
It’s probably a blessing in disguise that he chose not to come in. Or rather, that I chose not to invite him in. I had every intention to, but I must have an angel watching over me, helping me make wise decisions.
My loneliness isn’t worth risking a possible partnership with Bryan. A business partnership.
I know how these things work. Bryan is going to volunteer at Children of The Future for some time until word of his volunteering “accidentally” leaks and he’s seen as an idol once more. The only reason he spent so much time with me today was likely, so I’d stop giving him shit work and making him show up late.
He’s using me to further his career and that’s fine. I get it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t use him for mine. If Bryan ends up enjoying his time at Children of The Future, there may be a chance that I could have be a new backer. I know he has the money to do it.
For that purpose alone, I should try to keep him at a comfortable distance. I don’t want to get romantically or sexually involved with someone who may be funding my NGO. Not again. I don’t want to end up with another Grady situation.
Although, should I choose not to pursue Bryan as a backer, there wouldn’t be anything unethical stopping us from forging a relationship.
It may be foolish of me to think that someone like him may be interested in me though. A lifetime of models and celebrities in the same class must have made it so that he’s no longer interested in women as typical as me.
I keep rounding back to this thought, but I can’t fight the feeling that there is something going on between us. When he was helping me clean, the walk to the food truck, the time we spent waiting for our food and then eating… This can’t be a one-sided infatuation.
But I've been wrong about men before. Rich men, specifically. I shouldn’t kid myself.
Jumping to a rebound feels natural after having been single for so long. Bryan can’t be a rebound though. Not for me. From this point on, I'm going to make sure that I don’t dig myself down this hole any further. He and I will have a professional relationship and nothing more. I will not put myself through the hell I went through with Grady.
****
Only two days have passed since I last saw Bryan, but I'll be damned if those weren't the two longest days of my life.
Not a single phone call or text from him shot my way.
I wasn’t expecting otherwise but in my heart of hearts, but I was half hoping tha
t spending my weekend waiting for my phone to ring would amount to something. But now it’s Monday and I'm the one who has to make the first move.
At the Children of The Future headquarters, I check in with Roxanne who acts as the building's reception but also helps me out with what I'd assign to a personal assistant if I had one. She tells me that the director of the organization has been leaving me calls at my office, but before she can tell me more about that, she notifies me of Bryan’s early arrival.
“He’s here?” I ask her.
Roxanne nods her head softly making her curls swing and slowly raises a finger to point at Bryan, waiting in the lobby with some earphones in.
Whatever music it is he’s listening to doesn’t seem to faze him much. I’ve seen Bryan in commercials for overly expensive headphones where he’s being chauffeured to his next game while he bobs his head to whatever pop single is popular. This was definitely not that. Maybe because he’s not trying to sell the earphones he’s wearing.
Somehow, he senses my presences and turns in my direction. Like I had been jolted by a shock, I jump slightly and try to act as though I wasn’t just staring at him for a considerable amount of time.
Bryan takes his earphones off and rushes over to me, looking far more chipper than he caught me being.
“Hey, hey, boss. I’m here and ready for duty,” he says.
“You’re here… early. Way early. I just get here,” I tell him, ignoring his enthusiastic greeting.
He shrugs. “I didn’t get any calls or messages this weekend, so I thought you might have forgotten about telling me when I’m supposed to show up. So, I took some initiative and showed up as soon as you guys opened.”
The last thing I want to come off as is impressed. I don’t want him thinking that he’s won me over.
But he has.
He’s slowly winning me over with his upbeat attitude and initiative, as he called it. Could it be obsession? A healthy obsession like the one I thought Grady once had for me? There isn’t much time to think about it because after nearly a minute of silence I realize that neither of us has said anything and we have just been standing in front of one another like a couple of nutjobs.
“So, what’s the game plan today?” Bryan finally asks.
“The game plan,” I stutter. I turn back towards the front desk. “The game plan?” I ask Roxanne.
She giggles and grins at me. “OH! Uh… Erwin Elementary. They don’t have anybody to supervise a group of forty kids for today or Wednesday,” Roxanne tell us.
Bryan shoots me a smile that could almost rival that of Roxanne’s. He seems much more excited to be taking care of a bunch of kids that anyone should be. Fifteen kids may have been manageable for him, but he has no idea what a large group of kids can be like when it’s just you and one other person.
With the game plan set, he and I get into my shabby four-seater and drive to the school. I explain to him along the way that he’s going to have to be not just on his best behavior but on the lookout for mischievous children.
“Please, what’s the worst that could happen?” he scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“There could be a group of kids that go off to the bathroom to bully someone. Or worse, they could try hopping the school fence. Or, they could talk to drug dealers through the chain link fence. Or—”
Bryan stops my train of thought by waving his hands. “These are kids we’re talking about, isn’t it? Elementary school kids.”
“Kids don’t stay innocent forever, Bryan. I wish they would, but that’s just not the case. Some kids start sabotaging their own lives at this early stage. Not always by their choice, but it happens. Because nobody else is there for them. So… we have to be on the lookout, got it?”
Solemnly, Bryan apologizes for scoffing earlier. He’s quickly reminded how serious I am about these kids.
“The class clowns and quiet kids are the ones we need to watch out for,” I warn him. “More often than not, those are the ones who are often associated with some seedy characters.”
“Elementary school certainly has changed since my day,” he mumbles.
“It hasn’t. You were probably just one of the good kids,” I tell him.
I feel my face becoming hot. I’m embarrassed from complimenting him. I’m trying so hard to keep him at an arm’s length, but even when I’m talking about how dangerous some elementary school children can be, I find myself wanting to get closer to him and please him.
“The point is: These kids are important. Even if they’re not dealing drugs or getting in other sorts of trouble, we have to be there for them. If they ask for help, we have to jump at the chance. Even when it comes to the little things, like helping them open a bottle of water, or something like that. Got it?”
“No need to tell me twice,” he answers.
At the school, we’re immediately swarmed by the kids. Bryan, more so than I. These kids seem to be much bigger fans of The Leviathans than the ones at the other school. A bit odd, in my opinion. I didn’t think that kids this age were all that interested in sports, at least. Sure, everyone knows who Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, and Drew Brees are, but who would be able to recognize Bryan Anderson, a tight end, just by taking a quick glance at him?
Nevertheless, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Answering questions about his career, his teammates, the cities he’s been to. Like at the last school, he seems to enjoy talking about his career with kids because they don’t seem to focus on the downfalls of it.
Chapter Seven
Scout
Despite there not being any volunteers to watch these kids, the teachers left out some food for the children that the school had received from Children of The Future. Nothing too grand, just some boxes of chocolate milk, chips, water bottles, and microwavable burritos. For some kids, the meals they get at school are the only meals they get at all, so I make it a priority that every kid gets something to eat before they leave.
Once I have everything ready for them, I walk back to the kids messing with Bryan and tell them all that their food is ready, and that the cafeteria’s microwave is available if they want to heat up their burritos.
Thankfully, their second school meal of the day gives Bryan and I some time to rest and walk around to see if the kids are feeling good. I head over to the cafeteria to make sure that the kids aren’t leaving their burritos in the microwave for more than two minutes. I leave the children momentarily to see how Bryan is doing walking down the aisles of the outside lunch area tables, looking over the shoulders of the students to make sure they’re not doing anything they shouldn’t be.
I see a few kids ask him to sit down with them for some reason. From where I’m standing, it seems as though they just want to talk about Bryan and football some more. I continue checking up on him from a distance intermittently, also making sure the kids in the cafeteria aren’t blowing up their burritos or the microwave.
He continues hopping from table to table to talk to different kids, until he reaches one little girl doing her homework. I can’t understand what they’re saying from how far away I am, but only seconds after sitting down next to her, he stands up and quickly walks to the table furthest from her.
The little girl starts to cry alarming the two of us and turning the heads of every kid in the lunch area to me. Bryan didn’t say much to that little girl but whatever he did say was enough to send her into a crying fit. That son of a bitch! Even after the whole spiel I gave him about how important it is to make sure these kids’ needs are taken care of, and that they feel like they have someone is there to listen to their thoughts, and he goes and pulls some bullshit like this.
Bryan stands up from the table he’s sitting at and quickly walks toward me.
“What the hell did you do?” I whisper enraged by his buffoonery.
“I didn’t do anything, she just started crying out of nowhere,” he replies and shrugs.
“Oh, bullshit,” I whisper almost loud enough for the children
to hear. “Don’t you DARE lie to me, I saw exactly what happened. You sat down next to her, she said something, you said something, and then you left. Can you please—”
Before I can get some answers form him, I’m startled by the child’s loud cries.
I point back towards the cafeteria. “Go check on the kids, make sure they’re not misusing the microwave. We’ll talk later,” I promise him.
I run over to the crying child and pat her on the back to calm her down. I repeat to her that I’m here for her and apologize for whatever it was Bryan did. Being a kid, this gets her to turn her crying down to a mere, much more tolerable sniffle.
“Now what was it that happened?” I ask her.
“I finished my chips, and I wanted to finish my homework before my mom picks me up, and I asked Mr. Anderson to help me but he told me to do it myself, and it’s really hard, and — and — and,” she starts to cry again but I ensure her that I’ll help her with her homework and anything else she needs. This quickly turns her frown upside down.
Seeing as how it is only elementary school homework, her supposedly difficult work doesn’t take more than a few seconds for us to work out. It’s just a worksheet with vocab words and their definitions on it, and she’s supposed to write out sentences with those words in them. I help her out with the first couple of them and let her do the last handful.
“What’s your name, by the way?”
“Lucy,” she tells me. “Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry for crying.”
“Don’t be sorry for that,” I insist. “You should never be sorry for reacting to being hurt. You did nothing wrong. Bryan is the only one who should be apologizing, and I’m going to make sure that he does. You got a handle on the rest of this?”
She enthusiastically nods her head and continues working on her homework.
Without a second to lose, I run back to Bryan who is once again crowded by a small army of children who are no longer interested in heating up their burritos to an adequate temperature. He turns to me with a distracted smile that fades as soon as he remembers the reasoning behind my sour look.