by Amelia Wilde
"Well he's wrong," Jonah asserted. "I think I know what happened but he's wrong. He's believing Bennett's word over mine." He narrowed his eyes angrily. "And that's sort of bullshit if you ask me."
I leaned back and eyed the circling waitresses. Tension clouded our table, so thick you could cut it with a knife. "I need to go to the restroom," I said quickly.
He didn't look at me as I hurriedly grabbed my things and rushed away from our table. It was several degrees cooler in the ladies room than out in the overheated cafe. I touched my cheeks, feeling the heat rising off my skin and leaned over the sink to splash water on my face.
Ten minutes ago I had been ready to wrap myself around him. Now I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat. Never had I met someone who could get me so worked up like this. I wanted to shake him, the embrace him. I wanted to defend him from the wrong Gabe had done him, then I wanted to slap him across the face for letting all these years go by without righting it. I felt like screaming.
Why did Gabe believe that Jonah had kept that manager on? And more than that, why had I, why had his whole family so readily believed it as well? And even more than that, why hadn't Jonah done anything to fix their wrong opinion of him?
I could feel it. The need to intervene. Willa called it my "adoption instinct," the need to take other people under my wing and fix their problems. My therapist said it was a remnant of losing my dad so young, of trying to play partner to my single mother instead of letting myself just be the daughter. It was something I struggled with and I had to fight tooth and nail not to give in to it right now.
I could fix the King Brother feud today. I could get Jonah and Gabe talking and they could hash everything out. Then we could all listen to Gid's music together as the camera panned away and the music played over the credits.
I shook my head. Life didn't work that way. I needed to keep my nose out of this. I needed to ignore how nice that kiss was and go back to being a disinterested third party. I was too involved already.
It was unbelievably cheesy to nod at myself in the mirror after making a big decision, but that's what I did before heading back out to the table with a smile on my face. "Hey," I said, sliding back into the booth.
Something seemed different. He was propping his head up with one hand while he tapped restlessly on the table with the other. I looked at the table and realized what was missing. "Where are our menus?"
"Hmm? Oh, I ordered."
"Um, you did?" I squeaked. "For both of us?"
He smiled like I was a particularly slow, but still slightly charming child. "Yeah. The waitress came while you were in the bathroom and you seemed like you were hungry, so I didn't want her to go away again."
I stared at him, not comprehending. "You... Ordered for me."
"Yeah she said it'd be out soon." He tapped his fingers on the table some more. "Let me ask you something, when Claire told you I fucked Gabe over like that, even though I didn't, did you believe her?"
I shook my head, mentally digging in my heels and refusing to get pulled into this. "Don't change the subject here, Jonah."
"From what?"
"You ordering for me!" I whisper-shouted. Anger was heating my neck again. I couldn't believe that I'd almost fallen for it. That dimple and those hurt hazel eyes. That stellar kiss. He'd been wounded and vulnerable and because of that I'd almost believed he was different from what I'd always known him to be.
An arrogant, attention-hungry asshole.
"You had no idea what I wanted to order, I never told you."
He leaned forward. "I took a guess," he said. "Like I said, she came when you were in the bathroom - "
"So send her away!" I interrupted, throwing up my hands. A few heads were turning in our direction and I definitely recognized a parent from my classroom, but I didn't care. "This isn't the nineteen fucking fifties!"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Sure Ruby," he scoffed. "You'll make the guy pay for your lunch on a date, but this isn't the nineteen fifties."
My mouth fell open. "Wait, you think this is a date?"
"You think it's not?"
I stared at him in disbelief, unable to form words for a second. "Well, if this is your idea of a date, Jonah King," I seethed. "Then I feel really bad for your ex-girlfriends. So far we've talked about nothing but your problems and then you went ahead and ordered for me without even asking if it was okay."
Jonah smirked. "Jesus, Ruby. What are you so mad about?"
I threw down my napkin. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" I stabbed my finger into the table. "This right here is why Gabe is so pissed at you," I seethed. I was angry at him and angry at myself for thinking I could fix this. This went way deeper than just a disagreement over management. "This is why Beau and Finn sided with him against you and why Claire rolls her eyes every time someone brings you up." His face stiffened, but I couldn't stop myself. "Because you make these decisions that affect other people that aren't yours to make!"
His jaw clenched and relaxed. Clenched and relaxed. I waited for him to tell me to butt out, that it was none of my damn business. Then I would tell him. I'd let him know that his uncle had given me his legacy to care for because he knew I would keep his wishes in mind. That it really was my business, after all. I would throw it in his face that Gid had chosen me over him and make him realize what an asshole he was being.
But instead he just smiled. "Look, if you don't like what I ordered, we'll send it back, okay?" He leaned back and held out his hand at me. "It's not a big deal."
Something popped behind my eye. I stood up, grabbing my purse, hurrying before my anger made me cry. "It's a huge deal, Jonah," I said, throwing down a twenty because I'd be damned if I let him pay for this lunch even if I never got a chance to eat it. "I'm done here," I told him, and stalked out the door.
14
Ruby
It was seven thirty on a sleeting November morning. That alone was enough to justify my bad mood. The monthly faculty meeting was just gray icing on the crappy-weather cake.
I shuffled in to the teacher's lounge, clutching my travel coffee mug for dear life. My fellow teachers grunted at me, all clutching similar mugs, and we all studiously avoided looking at the back window.
That's where Gideon had always perched during these meetings.
"Good weekend?" Dee asked me as I pulled my chair as far away from Gid's spot as I could.
"Yeah it was okay," I said with a bland smile. How was I supposed to explain it to her? "I went out on a not-date with Jonah King - yeah, him - and it turns out he's a dick! I know! Just like everyone is always saying! And guess what, I'd let him kiss me and it was amazing but I never want him to come near me again!"
Yeah, no thank you. I'd prefer my fellow teachers to think of me as at least halfway intelligent. "How about your weekend?" I asked, eager to change the subject.
"Full of puke. Finley's sick now."
"Oh my god, you poor thing." Dee looked pretty rough, even when you took Monday morning into account.
"Do I smell like it? I swear, it's all I can smell." She sniffed her sleeve, looked worried a moment, and then sniffed it again. "Smell this and tell me?" she begged, shoving her arm under my nose.
"You're fine," I reassured her. Truth be told there was a faint sour smell clinging to her, but she looked halfway to tears with exhaustion so I wasn't going about to add to her stress levels like that. "I hope he's feeling better."
"My mom's got him today," she said. "I'm going to hear all about it if he pukes on her white sofa, I'll tell you that much."
I winced and opened my mouth to murmur something reassuring, but at that moment Principal Donovan entered with his clipboard. We all settled into our chairs, phones and notebooks at the ready, waiting for him to clear his throat and stop coughing. The dry hack I'd heard at the funeral was sounding a lot wetter now, I realized with a shiver of disgust.
"Good morning, he said, then took another sip of water. "Glad you're all here to brighten my morning.
" That got a small titter of appreciation. He glanced to the back by the window where Gid should have been. "I'm not going to pretend that this is a normal meeting." I sat up a little straighter. "We lost a damn good man and a damn fine teacher last week."
We all nodded and murmured. I blinked fast against the tears that threatened and Dee clapped her hand on my shoulder then rubbed furious circles on my back. "We're all gonna miss him," Principal Donovan finished.
He coughed again, and then flipped through his clipboard. "But at the risk of sounding callous, he left some unfinished business here at the school." He looked up at us. "The spring play."
"Oh shit, yeah," Dee murmured as we looked at each other in consternation.
"I think we ought to have a discussion right now about how we want to proceed with that," Principal Donovan went on. And I swore he was looking right at me.
I shifted in my chair. The spring play was an annual tradition dating back way before I was attending Crown Creek Primary. It was really more of a showcase of the music teacher's talent than any sort of play with a storyline. Gideon had worked for months scoring the parts and writing music for thirty little voices to belt out while wearing felt costumes. This year's theme was 'Love Each Other.'
"It's his music," I spoke up, feeling like Principal Donovan was waiting for me to speak. "But he did write everything down, I know he did. Those papers were all over the music room all summer. I had to yell at him to get it cleaned up before the school year started." I looked around. "So we have everything we need to keep it going."
"But shouldn't we cancel it out of respect?" one of the upper grade teachers spoke up. "I mean, it's not like these are normal circumstances."
"The kids will be so disappointed though," Dee piped up. Her daughter Kayleigh had been cast in the chorus and she was inordinately proud. "The parts have all been cast."
"How long until we can hire a new music teacher?" the school secretary wanted to know. I snapped my head over to glare at her, but she ignored me.
"I don't know if getting someone new right away is such a good idea," someone said. "The kids are already upset, it might confuse them."
"Or worse, make the new teacher a target," Dee said. "I mean the parts have already been cast, so all we need is for someone to step in."
"About that?" Anna, one of the speech therapists spoke up, which was rare. She waited while we all turned to listen, then looked down at one of her folders. "Lydia Walker, a new fourth grader? She expressed an interest in auditioning. She knows she's too late for a featured role, but I told her the chorus was still an option." She winced. "I hope that was okay. She could really use the socialization.
"Wait, Lydia Walker?" Dee turned to me. "Is she one of the Chosen kids?"
"Beats me," I shrugged at the same time a fourth grade teacher said, "Yes, she is." She turned to Anna. "But I didn't think the Chosen would let their kids be in plays?"
"Especially girls," someone added to general agreement.
Anna was nodding. "This is sort of a special case. It seems like Lydia's older sister just left the group last year."
"A defector?"
"Do they shun defectors?" Dee wondered. I shrugged again.
Anna straightened up. "My understanding is that the loss of her older sister was a huge blow, and they maybe realized that if they didn't allow some leeway, they might lose their other child too."
I wracked my brain, wondering if I had seen little Lydia in the hallways. She would have stood out with her low coiled bun and long denim skirts. I wondered what kind of courage it had taken her sister to be able to leave her family behind like that, and I also keenly wondered what had caused her to leave.
"Well, we'll have to make sure the costumes involve long skirts," said the PE teacher.
There were a few scandalized giggles and Principal Donovan raised his hands. "Okay everyone, settle down," he said. "So I think we've agreed that we're moving forward with the play.
I nodded vigorously and looked around to see my fellow teachers nodding along with me. "Great," said Principal Donovan. But that still doesn't settle the question of how we're going to do it."
"We could hire someone from the community?" Dee said.
"How long would that take?"
"And could we find the budget to hire someone or would it have to be volunteer? Finding a volunteer is going to be tough."
"And another thing," Principal Donovan added. "Can any of you play an instrument?"
Silence. I almost raised my hand, since I'd played piano as a child way back before my Dad passed. But to say I was rusty was an insult to rust.
Principal Donovan scanned our glum faces. "I'm not hearing a whole lot of enthusiasm here, people" he said, with a warning in his voice.
"But we have to do it!" I cried out. I looked at my fellow teachers, terrified that we were going to blow this. "Gid wrote all the music, he picked all the parts. We have to do it in his memory, as a tribute." I looked around wildly. "Don't you think?"
I looked back at Principal Donovan who was nodding with a knowing smile. "I absolutely agree, Ruby. And it sounds to me like you just volunteered to make it happen."
15
Jonah
The house was quiet for the first time in days. I'd grabbed my guitar, ready to start working.
And then I'd just... sat there.
In twelve years in the business, I'd never once had writer's block. I didn't even understand it when others complained about it. To me, you sat down with your guitar and you powered through the ideas, one after another until you found something that worked. And it always worked.
Until now.
I set it back down again and stared at the wall, almost awed by how blank my mind was. Not a single idea bubbled to the surface of my brain. No melodies, no phrases that could be captured and fitted into a song.
There was nothing there. I stared at the wall as if it had answers, but the only thing that came to me was Ruby.
Kissing her wasn't something I'd planned. I had no grand scheme to seduce her by going to her knitting club.
But there had been something there. I'd felt it. She felt it. I could tell by the way she blushed when she made that accidental innuendo. And that feeling of wonder I kept having when I was with her, that rush of excitement over something brand new, made me lean in and see just what that something could be.
That something was electric. I'd kissed her softly, sweetly, but the way she yielded, parting her lips for me and letting me take control had my dick hard in an instant. She was perfect and I had no idea how I hadn't realized that until then.
I couldn't get that kiss out of my head. I couldn't get that girl out of my head.
And I couldn't get the words she'd shouted at me as she threw down her money and stomped out of the cafe out of my head either
You make decisions that affect other people's lives that aren't yours to make.
No wondered I had no ideas. That phrase had been running through my brain like a steamroller, squashing out any other thoughts.
Was it true? It didn't feel true. But then I had to remember that it was my idea to audition for the talent show way back when in the first place. My brothers had been content to get comic book money from our local appearances, but I'd always wanted something more. I'd more or less dragged my siblings to the mall that day.
And that decision had definitely affected their lives. Everything had changed, because of me. I'd always thought I'd done them a favor, that they'd owed me for it, but now?
Now I wasn't so sure.
Suddenly there was a bang that made my heart skip a beat. I leaped off my bed when it was followed by a sickening thud.
And then a series of eloquent-yet-filthy curse words that only Gabriel King was capable of stringing together.
I looked away from the wall. Duke looked up too. "You think he's okay?" I asked my dog.
Duke huffed and laid back down again, but I could feel his judgement all the same. "I'm sure he's not dead or somet
hing," I told him. "He wouldn't be cussing like that if he was."
I heard stomping and then another loud bang, then the sound of the tap running. Duke raised his head again and this time he looked at me.
"Fine," I told him. "You're basically deaf anyway, so you won't have to hear the yelling." I took a deep breath before calling down the stairs, "You okay down there?"
"Fuck off!" came the reply.
"Charming," I called back. "Just tell me you're not bleeding out on the carpet. Mom would kill me."
"I'm fine," Gabe grunted, then cursed again.
I thundered down the stairs and through the kitchen to find him in the downstairs bathroom. Blood streamed from a cut on his forehead.
"Jesus, you look like something out of a horror movie."
He ignored me and hissed, trying to fit a butterfly bandage over the wound, but the blood made it too slippery.
"Here, asshole. Let me do it, you're fucking it up," I said.
"I've got it."
"You clearly don't."
"Shit!" he snarled as the adhesive folded on itself.
"Will you let me?" I demanded. "Turn this way."
Gabe glared at me for a moment, but then blood dripped right down into his eye. Blinking furiously, he shoved the packet of bandages at me. "Hurry up," he growled. "Before I get blood on the towel and mom has a coronary."
I took the package, silently reveling in the first joke he'd made with me in nearly two years. "Okay hold still, I'm gonna pinch it shut."
He lunged away. "Are your hands clean?"
"No, they've been up in cowshit all day, you know me. What the hell happened to you anyway?"
He hissed as I gingerly closed the gash with my fingers. "I needed one of Dad's wrenches."
I instantly understood. "And he keeps them up so high."
"Fucking pegboard," Gabe sighed as I pulled the adhesive strip tight. "Why can't he have all his tools chucked in a disorganized toolbox like normal people?"