“No,” I admit. “But I always am, so why change the ritual? Trust me. I need to be alone right now. Plus, isn’t Nessa coming in with her parents for the meeting?”
His face falls. “Damn. I forgot all about that.” He lets my face go and instead rests his hands on my shoulders. “Can I give you my phone number?”
“For what?” I ask, frowning.
“So if you need anything you can call me.”
“I don’t have a cellphone. My foster parents barely feed me. They’re not going to give me a phone too.”
He steps out of my hold and scratches his jaw. “Never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow at least?”
I nod sadly.
The prospect of leaving makes the numbness come back. I want to change my mind and stay. After being around him I’d somehow managed to forget what happened, but he goes to sit at his desk after unlocking the door, and I already insisted I wanted to be alone.
But I don’t want to be alone. I didn’t know there was someone out there I could talk to. “Bye, Julian.” I pause half way out of the room.
His smile is small but his eyes remain worried. “Bye, Kaelyn.”
When the door closes behind me, I am completely alone. I can’t stand it. I don’t even want to be around me right now. The disgust I feel is overwhelming. It’s so consuming I sit in my car and hyperventilate.
As I’m sitting there not breathing, but breathing too hard at the same time, I see Nessa and her parents pull up. She looks sullen as her father and mother parade her into the school. Even her mom and dad look perfect. Seeing her makes me sick to my stomach. Something’s coming for me when she finds out what Brady and I did.
The part I can’t stand is that I did it on purpose. I deserve what she’s going to do to me. I did it knowing exactly what being with Brady was going to get me, but deluded myself into wanting it still.
I pull away from school both terrified and emotionless. I risk going to Bruce’s. I need a shower bad. I have to wash Brady off my body. I take my things with me into the bathroom after slipping in through my bedroom window. I wash meticulously. By the time I’m done, I’m raw and pink. But it’s still not enough. I wash harder, scrubbing my lips, neck, and vagina until I am new skin. As I do, I cry these tears I never knew I had. I dress quickly in my work uniform and stuff some fresh clothes into my backpack. I do my makeup when I finally manage to stop crying and dry my hair with my towel until it’s manageable.
Slipping out my window with my backpack, I run to my car and drive to work. Tamryn gives me a scrupulous look when I enter the main floor. She hands me my apron with a nod. I’m stunned. I’m either put together better than I thought or I’m falling apart right before her eyes and she took pity on me.
I throw myself into my work. I’m nothing but orders and drinks, chaos and insanity. I move around Bella’s like I’m made for this. At eight, Avery taps me on my shoulder while I’m refilling table ten’s pop.
“What?” I ask brusquely, in waitress mode.
“Someone requested they sit in your section. Do you have the room?”
I frown. “Who?”
She looks over at the entrance. I do the same. Mr. Ean stands there, eyes searching the room for me. My heart stills. I look at Avery. “Table nine is almost done. Tell him to wait.”
“He’s unfairly hot,” she notes, turning her head to the side to examine him. “You two …?”
“No,” I assure her.
“Too bad he isn’t sitting in my section.” She sighs and pats my shoulder. “You want to take a break?”
“Please,” I huff. “Can you take this to table ten?” I hand her the pop.
“On it.”
I dip into the break room and take ten minutes to myself. I’ll need them before I face Julian. I’m lightheaded from not eating enough, but I can’t eat until my shift is over. I search my purse for something, finding a lone piece of gum, but Tamryn would kick my ass if she caught me chewing gum on her watch. When my time is up, table nine is clear and Mr. Ean is sitting patiently at the entrance on his phone. I grab a menu, a bundle of silverware, and then approach him, tapping him on his shoulder.
He looks up and smiles sweetly when he sees it’s me. “Table ready?” he guesses.
“Mhm. This way.” I feel his eyes on me as I lead him to table nine. It’s in the corner. I should probably save it for a group, but it’s the only table that’s open and I can’t tell him no after doing so already after school. “Ice water?”
He slides into the booth. “Water’s fine.”
I set his menu down in front of him, brushing his hand in the process. I line his silverware alongside his menu. “I’ll go and get that for you.”
Why is he here? It isn’t a coincidence tonight like it was the other night. That had been an honest accident. Tonight, he came here to see me. I pour him a glass of ice water and bring it back to his table.
Setting it down in front of him, I blurt, “Why are you here?”
He sits back with his menu and meets my eyes boldly. “I wanted to check on you.”
“You could have waited until tomorrow.”
“I guess I could have,” he agrees. “But I didn’t want to wait. Plus, a man’s got to eat, doesn’t he?” As he stares he takes a deep breath. “What time do you get off?”
“Nine.”
He nods. “I know what I want.”
He’s still wearing that white shirt, and coupled with his cool gray eyes, I can’t see anything else but him tonight. I take out my order pad from my apron pocket. “Tell me.”
“I’ll have the prosciutto and melon for an appetizer and then the lasagna. And some tiramisu, if I’m up for it. If not, I’ll take it to go.”
“No wine? It’ll taste great with the lasagna? We’ve got a nice merlot on the house list tonight.”
“One glass,” he concedes.
I grin playfully. “Can I see some ID?”
“You know I’m of age.”
I wiggle my fingers. “ID, or no wine. It’s the rules.”
“Brat,” he mutters, bending over so he can get his wallet out. He finds his ID and hands it to me.
His picture is handsome. He looks a few years younger in this picture, maybe my age. He’s smiling hugely at the camera and his gray eyes are shiny. My gaze strays to his birthday. “You were born on Valentine’s day?”
He snatches his ID from me, putting it back in his wallet. “Yes.”
“So, no matter what you’re never alone?” I should go put his order in, check on my tables, but I don’t.
“No matter what I always disappoint my girlfriends.” He smiles at something. “I’m a selfish bastard on my birthday, and they want roses. But so do I,” he adds, laughing quietly.
I smile. “I’d buy you roses, Mr. Ean.”
His grin falls. “Julian, Kaelyn. Just Julian.”
“Julian,” I repeat quietly. “I should go put your order in and check on my tables.”
“You should,” he agrees.
So, I do. I put his order in and make my rounds before I get him his wine. I swear it’s like I was gone for an hour. It takes me almost fifteen minutes to get everything in order. His melon and prosciutto are ready. I get Shane to pour me a glass of the house merlot. I eye the vibrant red color and take a sniff as I approach his table. He’s playing on his phone again.
“I’m sorry it took so long.” I set his appetizer down in front of him. “Your lasagna will be up shortly.”
He digs in without preamble, wrapping a piece of cold juicy melon in salty prosciutto. “I don’t mind waiting.”
I’m so hungry I want a bite. I leave before I snatch it from him. I refill drinks and answer inane questions about the Italian menu. By the time I free myself, it’s close to nine and Mr. Ean’s lasagna is cold. I take it as my own and put in an order for a hot one. As the chef heats it, I duck into the breakroom to change and clock out.
I watch him frown when Avery brings him his lasagna when I return to the main floor.<
br />
“Where’s Kaelyn?” he asks, almost suspiciously.
“I’m taking over for her,” Avery explains. “She clocked out.”
“Oh,” he mumbles, frown deepening. “Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
“No. I’m good.”
“He’s got it so bad for you,” she whispers as she passes me.
I eye her back. He does not have it bad. He’s probably disappointed I waited so long to bring him his food. Although I wonder briefly if she’s right when I sit down across from him and his shoulders relax. But Mr. Ean’s just a nice guy.
“I thought you ran off.” He takes a bite of his lasagna and nods at my takeout container. “What’s in there?”
“Dinner.” I open it and realize I didn’t grab any to-go silverware.
“Here,” he offers, handing me his fork. “I’ll use my spoon.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I take his fork and dig in. “Thank you.” I’m ravenous. If I were alone the lasagna would be gone already. But I’m not alone and Mr. Ean is looking at me. Why does he do that? It can’t be because I’m beautiful. Brady showed me I was anything but today. Thinking about him makes my appetite shrivel up. I know I probably won’t eat again until tomorrow night, though, so I continue to force food into my mouth.
“So, Kaelyn.” He sits back and takes a sip of his wine, eyes on me. “You’re a senior in high school. You work at Bella’s. And you didn’t grow up with pink and fluffy. I want to know more than that.”
I take a bite and wish I had something to drink. “There isn’t much left to know.”
“Sure there is. There’s an entire person inside of you. What are you doing after high school?”
“I have to survive it first.”
“When you do,” he emphasizes. “What then?”
“I’d rather talk about you, Mr., err, Julian.” I don’t want to talk about me. I’m not my favorite person. “Why are you a teacher?”
He takes another sip and then puts his glass down. “I’ve always been good with numbers. When I went to college for a degree in mathematics I started assisting one of my teachers and then one day he let me teach the class when he was out ill. It was pretty much it after that. I switched majors.” He smiles at the memory. “It was hard at first. I’d go out and get drunk with these guys, and then the next day I had to teach them linear differential equations.”
I laugh a little. “I think Mr. Tane still does that.”
He smirks. “He’s an all right teacher. He’s just …”
“Dated,” I supply.
“Dated,” he agrees. “He teaches from a textbook and not from in here.” He touches his chest. “But,” he continues. “I’m sure I’ll give up the heart eventually. Like Mrs. Hilda.”
I groan. “You’ll never be Mrs. Hilda. You know there’s a rumor that she’s possessed.”
That makes him laugh. “I’ve heard.” He leans forward to whisper. “And I believe it.”
For the second time today, I laugh. I take a bite of my lasagna and wish again I had something to drink.
Avery approaches our table and gives me an indulgent smile before addressing Mr. Ean. “How’s the lasagna?”
“It’s wonderful. I think I’ll take my dessert now.”
“Of course.” She scurries away to get his tiramisu.
I lick my lips and eye his water. I can’t take it anymore. “Can I have a drink?”
“You can have whatever you want, Kaelyn.” He pushes his glass toward me, eyes sincere.
My eyes widen, but I pick it up and take a grateful drink despite his words. “Not everything. You didn’t stay quiet about Nessa. How did the meeting go?”
“You ever meet two parents and think, oh, I get it now?” He cracks a small smile. “They weren’t on my side, let’s just say that. She’ll be back to school tomorrow.”
“Yay,” I mumble. “I’ll be somewhere else tomorrow.”
“You’ll be at school,” he orders. “Don’t run from her.”
He had no idea that I asked for every hit, every bruise. Every single ounce of my blood she spilled was because of the choices I made.
Avery arrives with his towering tiramisu and the check. “Take your time,” she says, touching his shoulder.
“We will.” He smiles pleasantly at her and then drops his smile once she’s gone. Picking up his spoon, he plunges it into the mound of pastry cream and ladyfingers. “You can’t live your life afraid of her.”
“I’m not afraid.” I’m terrified. This time it won’t be an elbow and her fist. Sleeping with Brady gave her the shove she needed to ruin me for good. “You know this isn’t your problem, right? This is something I have to deal with. Not you. None of my teachers see me at all. Why do you?”
“I’m sorry they don’t notice you. I’m sorry it took a bloody lip for me to see you. But I do now. Nothing you say is going to make me forget the fact that you’re in trouble. I couldn’t if I tried. Why won’t you let me help you?”
“I help myself. It’s only ever been me.”
“I can understand where that way of thinking comes from, but it doesn’t have to be that way. Some people are actually going to want to help you.”
I snort. “Name one person other than you? I’ll wait for you to name them all.” I cross my arms over my chest, the empty seconds weighing heavily between us both.
His expression saddens. “Let me help you. Let me get to know you. Let me in, Kaelyn. I’m not like the rest of them. I care,” he promises.
I look down. “You shouldn’t waste your time.”
“It’s my time. Let me decide how I want to use it. And it wouldn’t be a waste. It would be a privilege.”
“Yeah right.” I peek at him from under my lashes. “How many glasses of wine did you have?”
“Not enough apparently,” he murmurs, eyes on me. I don’t think he’s looked anywhere else since he came in. “Will you be at school tomorrow?”
I sit straight up. “Are you leaving?”
“It’s late. I have papers to grade.” He doesn’t move. “Why does that bother you?” he asks softly. “Don’t you want me to leave?”
Biting my lip, I silently berate myself for my needy outburst. “I’m afraid to go home,” I admit. “Bruce is getting worse.”
Anger unfurls in his eyes, expunging the warmth in them. “Why don’t you let me talk to him?”
“No!” I hiss. “Absolutely not. You’ve done enough.”
He cracks his knuckles. “Just once.”
“Not ever.”
“You know, if you wanted,” he says, taking a deep breath to calm himself, “you could come hang out at my place.”
“Your place?”
“Yes. If you go home now I’ll worry about you. I’ll wish you had a cellphone. That you could call if you needed help.”
“I can’t go to your place.” He’s a teacher, my mind is screaming at me. But I feel so safe around him. He makes me laugh. I never feel safe around anyone. “I’ll be fine.” I can’t have this. Him. It would make no sense to even try.
It’s like he doesn’t hear me. He takes his phone out and starts tapping away at it. “Follow me to the store?”
“For what?” My tone is suspicious.
“Do it, or I’ll find out where you live and cave his fucking face in.”
His threat is so swift it stuns me. “You wouldn’t.”
“Why do you put up with people hurting you? When I help you, you think I’m the crazy person. I’m only trying to help you. Let’s go. Now,” he growls, throwing money on the table. He gets up and holds his hand out to me. “We’ll take your car. You can drop me off here when we’re done.”
I take his hand hesitantly and he pulls me to my feet, and tangles his fingers possessively around mine.
“Let’s go through the back,” I suggest, confused.
One second he’s calm, impassioned, the next he’s demanding a
nd angry. I’m still stuck on his place and the fact that my brain wants so badly to feel safe.
Together we slip into the breakroom. I grab my backpack, and then we duck out the back of the restaurant. My car’s parked under the street lights by the garbage can. I feel self-conscious of my PT. It’s fine for me. Mr. Ean might not think so.
He doesn’t seem to be in a good mood right now either. I unlock his door and he gets in stiffly, sitting down in the passenger seat. He’s tall, having to adjust his chair so his legs can fit. I start my car and drive slowly out of the parking lot.
“You know where to go?”
“I don’t need a phone.”
“Yes or no?”
“Why are you so mad at me?”
“I won’t be if you let me buy you a phone. Please, Kaelyn?”
“Who am I going to talk to? All of my friends?” I roll my eyes. “There’s no reason for me to have one.”
“You’re going to have it so I can make sure you’re safe.” The stiffness in his voice unfurls into anger. “All I did was ask you to come hang out at my place. I didn’t ask you out, or to sleep with me. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” He sits back, staring out his window. “You should have seen your face when I suggested it.”
“You’re a teacher,” I remind him unnecessarily. “Of course the idea freaked me out.”
“Why? You’re eighteen. It’s not against the law for us to hang out. It’s against the rules, but it isn’t against the law.”
He sounds like he’s thought about this. “You’re getting too ahead of yourself, Julian. You’re not even my teacher. I’m just some fucked up basket case student you feel sorry for. You don’t have to think too hard about us. There is no us. Don’t worry.”
He turns his head slowly to look at me. The look on his face is hard to discern. I can’t tell if I hurt his feelings or if he’s about to hurt mine. “Just drive, Kaelyn.”
He’s quiet the entire time I drive. But I can feel him in the passenger seat. His body heat and his emotions churn, agitating me. What is he thinking? Why did he say us, and why did it bother him when I told him there was no us? I hope he doesn’t think I want there to be. I try to think if I’ve given him any signs that I might want more from him. I suppose I could have, but so could he. Showing up at my work, letting me into his classroom, and trying to help me; there were signs coming from his end like crazy.
Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Page 6