“You gave him detention?” I guess quietly.
“I gave him detention.” He shakes his head regretfully. “He was so thankful I punished him.”
“You didn’t punish him. I think that’s cool of you. You shouldn’t feel bad. What if you saved him from it?”
“What if the next time he needs saving I’m not there because I gave someone else detention?” He looks to be waiting for an answer we both know I don’t have.
“You can’t save everyone.” I shrug and take a bite, watching the way his face falls.
“I promise you. If I see anything else going on, I’ll have your ass in the principal’s so fast you’ll never know what hit you. I can’t keep giving into you guys. Detention,” he scoffs. “What kind of person am I turning into?”
I look him right in the eye. “The kind of person who takes care of people. You took care of him when you gave him detention, and you took care of me today. That’s a good person if I’ve ever met one.” Not that I ever had. “Look, Mr. Ean. Not everyone wants to be saved. Some people want to keep going until they can save themselves. Maybe because of you he has the strength to keep going. Maybe he’ll save himself.”
He swallows hard and looks down. “Or he’ll give up and never save anything.”
“If you want to see it that way, fine. But I don’t. If we’re victims, then you’re guilty. We’re all something.” Or we’re nothing, and we just haven’t figured it out yet. The bell rings, and I am so relieved I jump up, handing him my empty container. “Thank you for taking care of me, and for lunch.”
“Hmm.” He takes the container and eyes me warily. “I’ll be seeing you.”
No, you won’t. I smile, subdued. “Sure, Mr. Ean. Bye.”
“Goodbye, Kaelyn. My door’s always open. If you ever need anything, I’m here.”
This time my smile is more heartfelt. “Thank you.”
He gives me a worried look right before I leave.
I’ll have to make myself scarce from now on. All he sees is a victim. I suppose some part of me could defend myself, but they’re the ones with the problem. Fighting them off every single day only made tomorrow harder. Defending myself in the past only made it worse. Sometimes saying ‘stop’ further spurs them on. It’s a challenge they don’t mind rising to. ‘No’ could come from either side, and unfortunately, my side doesn’t exist.
I want to get through my senior year without any more hiccups. Hiccups were common for me. An interruption that existed because I breathed too deeply, or not deep enough, or wanted to breathe at all. I had to avoid any more moments that left me gasping for air.
For the remainder of the day, I keep my head down and finish the rest of my classes. I don’t want to risk anyone else asking about my wound. All I need is for another hero to patch me up. After school, I’m overcome with relief. I stop by my locker. For the first time, I notice how I can see Mr. Ean’s classroom perfectly from where I stand. I’m some ways down the hall, but even from here I can see him leaning against the wall as his calculus student’s filter out of the room.
He smiles easily at a student and says something that makes the boy laugh. His demeanor is outwardly easygoing, but there was a sense this afternoon something unpleasant is brewing inside of him. He starts to turn his head, gazing down my end of the hall. When he notices me, his easy smile falls and he cocks his head to the side, studying me the way I’m studying him.
He makes a move to come to me.
I quickly stuff my things in my backpack and take off in the other direction. We don’t need to talk anymore. I rarely speak to anyone at this school, or anywhere for that matter, but that I’d spoken to him at all, and I’d revealed a secret that could make my time in Nessa’s target worse, had me anxious.
Feeling like I’d dodged a bullet, I walk quickly to the parking lot and crawl into my beat-up PT Cruiser. The only reason I can afford it is because the back end is smashed in and it has 185,000 miles. I don’t make a lot of money working at Bella’s Italian Restaurant as a waitress after school, but enough to make the payments. It’s my first car. I bought it the day I turned eighteen before school started in August. My foster parents celebrated by demanding rent. After my car note, they’d own the rest of my check, leaving me practically penniless.
Thinking about my foster parents makes me livid. I pull out of the parking lot and almost run into a red convertible. The driver gives me a dirty look and backs out, cutting in front of me. As I’m easing behind it, I notice Nessa walking out of the school.
It wasn’t that I was afraid of her. I knew there was no way around her anger. I did this to myself. I opened myself up to her abuse the day I let Brady in. She couldn’t stand that he wanted me before her. He walks behind her, all blond and perfect. I sigh longingly, and almost hit the person in front of me again. I know the real reason Nessa elbowed me. I’d been drooling over Brady as he walked past me in the hall after calculus. That’s why she tortures me.
Not because I’m a victim.
But because I’m in love with her boyfriend.
Consuming-can’t-eat-or-sleep-love.
And she knows it. She knew it the second I said ‘yes’ to Brady McAlister sophomore year.
He catches up to her and grabs her hand, kissing the back of it. I almost want to run them over with my car. On accident, of course. It would totally be an accident …
She’s the opposite of me. Black hair, dark green eyes, and a mean elbow. Her skirt is so short she keeps tugging it down, drawing Brady’s attention to her legs. Which, I think bitterly, might’ve been the point. I guess they’re nice legs, if you like that whole perfect long tanned leg thing …
I roll my eyes and look away before I put another dent in my car, driving away from school. I’ll have to come back tomorrow, but that’s not something I’m thinking about until I have to.
My shift at Bella’s doesn’t start until five. I stop at the library to do my homework before then. Bruce and Mandy aren’t exactly appreciative of my presence. I try and steer clear of them as much as possible. The less I’m there, the fewer chances they have to kick me out.
I think briefly about the day they do. I know it’s coming. Having been around people like them my entire life, I can smell the boot coming from a mile away. Bruce and Mandy had me since I was thirteen, and before them, it was Bruce’s sister Haddie. She won a settlement and moved to Florida and didn’t want anything to do with me after that, so Bruce took me in, the wonderful guy he is.
I hope my sarcastic glare doesn’t scare the librarian.
When I arrive at Bella’s, I slip into the breakroom and change into my uniform. My black pants and white shirt look far more put-together than I feel. Smoothing my dark red hair back, I put it in a ponytail. Then I find my makeup. I can barely see the cut on my lip thanks to my red lipstick, and my eyes gleam instead of look empty, thanks to my smoky eyeshadow. When I’m done, I look passable.
Lies come in all forms.
As I’m tying my shoes, Avery, one of the other waitresses, comes in. “Oh, good. You’re here,” she says in a rush. “It’s crazy out here tonight. Come on, girlie.”
“Coming.” I smile at her and slip onto the main floor, going over to the head waitress, Tamryn, so I can get my tables.
She looks me over like she does before every shift. “You look cute today. Why?”
“Are you implying I’m not cute every other day?”
“I’m implying you’re a lot more made up. What are you hiding? Have you been out drinking?”
“No. I’m only eighteen. I can’t drink.” I frown at her hawk-like eyes. I may as well come out and say it before she accuses me of doing drugs next. “I got into another fight.”
She sighs and reaches over to hand me my apron. “You need to start speaking up for yourself. No man is worth the shit you have to deal with.”
I ignore her last statement. “What tables do I get tonight?”
“I’ll give you five through ten.”
S
he fills me in on my tables before I throw myself to the sharks. I refill table five’s wine and take ten’s order. Bella’s is indeed crazy tonight, but the craziness makes me feel good. For four hours, I am needed. I am wanted. Two things I rarely feel. I rush around, emptying my tables as fast as I fill them so I can make as much in tips as possible. I’m on a roll until eight when Avery passes by to tell me she put a new couple at table six.
I approach table six like I would any other. Fake smile in place, specials on the tip of my tongue. But unlike every table, where there should be unfamiliar faces, I stop abruptly and stare in shock.
Mr. Ean is just sitting down with a beautiful woman. He looks younger tonight, dressed easily in a black button-down shirt and a pair of jeans. His hair is styled so it’s out of his face, and he’s got his sleeves rolled up. He looks closer to my age than he did in his classroom. The woman he’s with is probably close to his age as well. She’s wearing a tight red dress and her brown hair is curly and shiny. They sit across from each other and pick up their menus.
I turn around to tell Avery I can’t do it, won’t do it, but she’s gone, and Tamryn is looking at me mouthing, “Hurry up!”
Shit.
He’s only a teacher who patched me up, I coax. I don’t know him and it will remain that way.
I take a deep breath, pasting my best smile on my face. It’s my fakest as well. I don’t have any other kind. I couldn’t remember the last time I smiled because my heart told me so. I turn around and approach their table, looking at the salt shakers as I set their menus down.
“Welcome to Bella’s. The special tonight is Branzino in a lemon rosemary oil paired with roasted fennel. Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Kaelyn?” Mr. Ean asks, his tone surprised.
I reluctantly meet his eyes. My cheeks fill with heat. I’m lucky I’m wearing blush. “Unfortunately.”
He smiles softly. “I thought that was you. I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I didn’t know you came here.” I tap my foot impatiently. “Something to drink?”
He won’t stop staring at me. His eyes roam over my face and uniform, leaving me feeling hot all over. “You look better.”
I decide to look at his friend, hoping she’ll be of more help. But she’s looking between the two of us with her brows lowered, a suspicious glint in her eyes.
“Who are you?” she demands.
“She’s a student at school,” Mr. Ean answers harshly. “So wipe that look off your face, Layla.”
“Hmm,” Layla grunts, eyeing me shrewdly. “Are you in his class?”
I am mortified. “No. I have Mr. Tane for Calculus. Something to drink?”
“I’ll have a glass of red wine,” she orders.
I don’t bother writing it down. I’ll remember. I look at Mr. Ean, but he’s scowling at Layla. I clear my throat.
He looks over and his face softens. “I’ll just have ice water, Kaelyn.”
The way he says my name sounds so authoritative. “Right away, Mr. Ean.”
I quickly leave the happy couple and place the order at the bar. Shane, the bartender, smiles at me as he pours Layla’s red wine. “How’s your shift going?”
“Busy.”
“Wait until this weekend. There’s a convention and we’re the closest restaurant.”
“I don’t work weekends.”
He looks crestfallen. “That’s right. You don’t.” He sets the glass of red down and winks. “What are you doing then?”
I smile uncomfortably and take the wine. “Studying. I’m in high school still.” I hope that deters any further attempts and try to leave, but he calls me back. “Yeah?”
“How about dinner Saturday night? I get off at seven.”
I bite my lip and think of a way to say ‘no,’ but thankfully, Tamryn steps in just in time. “Shane,” she reprimands. “Let the poor girl work.”
I silently thank her and take Mr. Ean and his date their drinks. They’re talking heatedly amongst their selves. He looks pissed and she looks even worse, her face pinched. When I get there, I catch the tail end of their argument.
“You’re so insecure.”
“How do I know? You’re a different man these days. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you anymore, Julian.”
Julian. For some reason knowing his first name makes him less authoritative. It’s an identifier much like my own, instead of a title. It suits him.
He sits back when I set her wine down in front of her. She immediately snatches it and takes a long swallow. I look at him when I give him his water, and he smiles softly in apology.
“Have you had a chance to look your menu over or would you prefer to order appetizers?”
Mr. Ean watches my mouth as if he’s trying to see the cut he knows is there. “How do you feel?”
I hold in my sigh. “I feel great. Thank you for asking. Could you please order?”
He looks to Layla, who is burning him with her fiery gaze. “You know what you want?”
“Julian, honey, I’ve known for a long time.”
Pain fills his eyes. It’s stormy and sudden, like a winter you just want to end. I feel the need to defend him, but I don’t know how.
“Too bad we’re not all sure like you, Layla.”
She shrugs with one shoulder. The action is in purposeful defiance to the situation. I don’t understand exactly what’s going on, but it definitely deserves more than a bitchy shrug.
“Too bad indeed.”
“So like appetizers or not?” I want to run away.
“Just give us both the special, Kaylen.” He sounds tired and upset again.
“Right away.” I leave in a rush.
I wonder if she’s the reason he was upset. He has that same despondent look on his face now as he did when I found him sitting in my spot. I quickly put their order in and make my rounds, cleaning up table eight just in time for new customers. Now they’re better. A happy couple. They kiss between ordering, unable to keep their hands off each other. They make me think of Brady. If he’d just open his eyes and see that I’m right here we could be that happy couple someday.
On one of my rounds, I bring Layla a fresh glass of wine. They’re not talking, so much as glaring murderously. I leave as soon as I set down her wine and check on my order for table five. Unfortunately, Mr. Ean’s is ready; I’m not one to leave hot food to get cold. I balance both plates of fish and fennel and bring them to their table.
“Do what you have to do,” Mr. Ean’s in the middle of saying.
“I always do, Julian.”
“Two fishes of the day,” I announce, setting their plates down. “Can I get you anything else?”
Mr. Ean starts to get up. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“That way.” I point to the other side of the restaurant near the bar.
He nods at me and walks away, eyes grave. I smile with no return at Layla, who stews in her seat, before giving up and going to the kitchen. By the time I come out, table five wants a refill. I risk Shane again. Just as I’m walking around the bar, I spot Mr. Ean coming out of the bathroom. He sees me as well and makes a beeline over to me.
Damn it.
He takes a seat at the bar and stares at me with a myriad of emotions on his face. I can’t place them because I don’t know why they’re there. But I’ve felt a few. Sadness isn’t simply one emotion. It’s too many all at once.
“I’m sorry about that. You just got a front row seat to the end of my relationship and you shouldn’t have.”
I peek at him. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Since freshman year of college.” He looks at the worn bar top for an uncomfortable second, and then the words seem to fall out of him in one heartbroken whisper. “I don’t know what to do.”
I look down too, not knowing what to say. Having no relationship to speak of, I don’t know what he’s going through.
He exhales deeply and stands. “I’d better get back.” He smiles we
akly, leaving me at the bar.
“Who is that?” Tamryn asks, joining me as I watch him leave.
“Mr. Ean. He’s a teacher at my school.”
Her eyes widen. “He’s so young.”
“He’s twenty-four.”
“Huh. He’s so hot,” she murmurs, dumbfounded.
I smile. “He is kind of good-looking.”
“Kind of?” she scoffs. “Who’s he with?”
“His girlfriend.”
“Oh. Of course, he’s taken. Too old for you and taken for me. We can’t catch a break, can we?” She bumps my shoulder. “Get back to work, slacker.”
He wasn’t that much older than me. I do the math, shocked to find maybe six years is a stretch. Coupled with the fact that he’s a teacher, and the man is completely off-limits. Why couldn’t Brady come into Bella’s? I could have an off-limits party. Gawk and drool and then go home by myself. I roll my eyes as I maneuver around Avery. Of course, he’d probably bring Nessa. That would be all kinds of messed up to have to serve the girl who tortures me every chance she gets. But all kinds of messed up is my norm.
I bring table five their drinks and then make sure everyone has what they need, bypassing Mr. Ean, who looks like he’s in a heated argument with his beautiful girlfriend. She is seething. Twice I spot him flinch. It bothers me that she’s being mean to him. He took care of me, perhaps others as well. He’s not a jerk. But then again, I don’t know him. For all I know, he is a jerk and was only being nice because he had no choice.
Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Page 2