Lessons Learned

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Lessons Learned Page 18

by Sydney Logan


  “I am not debating whether being gay is right or wrong. That is not the issue here.”

  “Then what is the issue, Miss Bray?” The principal’s voice was vaguely amused, as if there was anything about this situation even remotely funny. The fact I was a rookie teacher flashed through my mind, but I didn’t care. I’d deal with the consequences.

  “The issue is an eighteen-year-old boy—a young man who was this school’s pride and joy—when he was scoring touchdowns. This is a student. It is this school’s responsibility to protect the students within its walls.”

  The bell rang, signaling an end to my planning period. Both men watched with stunned expressions as I rose to my feet.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Mullins, I believe how Matt is being treated by his classmates, faculty, and the administration is a far more urgent issue than who he may or may not bring to the prom.”

  I walked out, slamming the door behind me.

  Without bothering to make my copies, I raced down the hallway, wiping away my tears. I was so pissed, and words couldn’t describe how disappointed I was in Tommy, but I had to get a grip because I had a class waiting for me.

  When I reached my door, Lucas was standing there. His eyes were half-crazed.

  “Sarah, what’s wrong?”

  He reached for me, but I shook my head. We were at school, and I knew if he touched me, I’d completely fall apart. Not trusting myself to speak, I walked past him and headed straight to my desk. Grabbing a blue dry-erase marker, I shakily wrote FREE PERIOD across my whiteboard.

  The cheers were immediate and loud.

  I slumped in my chair and ignored the delighted faces of my seniors as they pulled their cell phones out of their pockets.

  What did I care? I was getting fired anyway.

  I was intently watching the clock and praying for the hands to move faster when a shrieking alarm sounded from the hallway.

  “Fire drill!” Howie shouted.

  I groaned.

  Why couldn’t this day just end already?

  Somehow, I managed to get the kids organized into a single-file line and led them out onto the lawn. Electronic devices were sometimes wonderful things, and it didn’t take long for word to spread that a freshman had pulled the alarm. I had just started to take roll when I realized two of my most notorious students were nowhere to be found.

  “Where are Matt and Patrick?” I asked the class.

  A few of the football players bowed their heads and shuffled their feet in the grass.

  “WHERE ARE THEY?”

  My class jumped, and Howie flew to my side.

  “Matt went to the bathroom between classes,” he said, his eyes full of fear. “I tried to go with him, like Coach asked, but Matt got all pissed . . . saying he didn’t need a babysitter . . .”

  Fear gripped me, nearly buckling my knees.

  Suddenly, Lucas was there. His arms wrapped around my waist as he tried to hold me steady.

  “Sarah, what is it?”

  My sweater was suddenly too tight, and I couldn’t breathe.

  “I think Matt . . . and Patrick . . . are inside the building.”

  Why can’t I breathe?

  Horror flickered across his face. Lucas turned his attention to the frightened student at my side.

  “Howie, I need you to go find Mrs. Bryant and bring her to me.”

  Howie nodded and ran across the grass. It didn’t take long before Aubrey’s class joined mine, and I felt her take my hand.

  “A panic attack?” Aubrey whispered.

  “Stay with her,” Lucas said.

  He’d just turned to go when I grabbed onto his arm.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going inside.”

  Panic seized me. “I want to go with you!”

  His gentle hands framed my face.

  “I don’t know what I’ll find when I get inside,” he murmured. “Please, sweetheart, stay here. Stay here for me. Promise me.”

  Tears filled my eyes, and I nodded as Aubrey helped me sit down on the grass. Fear threatened to suffocate me as he ran into the building.

  If anything happens to him . . .

  My entire body began to shake, and Aubrey squeezed my hand reassuringly. She was talking, but it was like white noise in my roaring ears.

  The air was suddenly filled with the siren of a fire engine, which made the kids laugh since everyone knew it was a false alarm.

  “Why aren’t they letting us go back inside?” Carrie whined from her place in line. “It was just some stupid freshman pulling a prank.”

  My heart was beating frantically in my chest, and it only raced faster when, moments later, I saw Tommy sprinting toward the building.

  “Why’s Coach going inside?”

  That got Aubrey’s attention. Suddenly, she looked terrified.

  “It’s Matt, isn’t it?” Aubrey whispered in my ear.

  I could only nod.

  Time passed. I had no idea how long we stood out there, but it was long enough that the kids finally dropped to the ground and made themselves comfortable. Most of them were texting and taking pictures of the completely unnecessary fire truck.

  Suddenly, more sirens filled the air, and the kids got excited when the police cruisers rumbled onto the parking lot.

  Sirens.

  Screams.

  Blood.

  My vision began to blur.

  “Sarah, stay with me,” Aubrey coaxed, her hand now gripping mine. “You’re safe. Lucas is safe. Everything is going to be fine.”

  More sirens, and this time, it was an ambulance. Finally understanding the situation was serious, a hush fell over the student body as the paramedics pulled up to the front entrance of the school.

  I felt someone’s arm brush mine. Through my tears, I could see Howie sitting by my side on the grass, and his face was ashen. I easily recognized the expression on his face.

  Guilt.

  I knew the feeling so well.

  I prayed for words of optimism to flood my tongue. I wanted to tell him everything would be fine. I wanted to say everything was under control, and his friend was safe.

  But I knew that would be a lie.

  Chapter 20

  Buses rolled out of the parking lot and the less interested students headed to their cars as the school day finally came to an end. The school had gone into full lockdown mode, but since everyone was outside anyway, the principal saw no reason not to dismiss the students to go home. Those of us who remained were instructed to stay outside. It was mostly seniors, I noticed, and many of them were members of the football team. The expressions on their faces were a mixture of confusion and grief, and I wondered how many of them had been directly involved.

  Over time, my frantic anxiety had drifted into a numb bewilderment. Howie and Aubrey remained at my side, both texting furiously on their phones. There were plenty of rumors circulating, but none of them could be considered legitimate information.

  The lack of news was horrible.

  The waiting was worse.

  Several students gasped when the front doors finally burst open, and everyone jumped to their feet as we watched the paramedics carry someone out on a gurney. It was impossible to see anything from a distance, and the students groaned with disappointment as the sirens blared and the paramedics raced off school grounds.

  “There’s Mr. Miller!”

  Relief flowed through me as Lucas’s eyes scanned the grass, his eyes locking with mine. Tommy and Mr. Mullins followed behind him, and seconds later, four policemen walked out onto the sidewalk with Mr. and Mrs. Stuart.

  A student wearing a Panthers hoodie stood between two of the officers, and when the boy raised his head, a horrified gasp echoed from the students and teachers on the lawn.

  Matt was bandaged and bruised, but he was standing. He was walking. He was talking.

  Most importantly, he was alive.

  Lucas’s arms wrapped around me, and I sagged with relief against h
im while we watched the officers lead Matt to the cruiser.

  “They’re both okay, baby.”

  Both?

  “I don’t understand,” Aubrey said, echoing all of our thoughts, “if that’s Matt . . . who was in the ambulance?”

  Lucas held me a little tighter.

  “Patrick,” he murmured.

  “Drink this,” Lucas said gently, offering me a mug. He’d insisted on following me home, and I’d been confined to the couch ever since.

  Hopeful, I peered into the cup. “Is it alcohol?”

  “No, it’s hot chocolate.”

  Sipping slowly, I hummed in gratitude as the liquid warmed me. Lucas adjusted the blanket around my shoulders before taking a seat next to me on the couch. I could feel his eyes on me while I quietly drank my cocoa.

  “I’m okay.”

  Reaching for me, he wrapped both of his hands over mine, trying to warm me.

  “Didn’t you have a jacket?”

  “Yeah, I just didn’t bother grabbing it. I figured it was just a drill.”

  Lucas nodded.

  I placed my mug on the end table. Needing to be closer, I climbed into his lap, tugging the blanket around us.

  “This is my favorite place to sit,” I whispered with a grin.

  “I love it, too.” Kissing my temple, he buried his nose in my hair. “How are you, really?”

  “I’ll be better once you give me all the details.”

  “I don’t have all of them,” Lucas reminded me. “I just know what I saw.”

  “What did you see?”

  Lucas sighed softly and held me close.

  “It was all pre-meditated. Apparently, Patrick had been waiting to get Matt alone. He saw Matt go into the restroom between classes, and Patrick convinced one of his friends to pay a freshman to pull the fire alarm. When I arrived, Matt was beaten and bloody, but he was the one holding the weapon as he stood over Patrick’s body.”

  “What kind of weapon?”

  “A metal pipe,” Lucas replied. “I have no idea where it came from. Patrick’s friends had apparently followed him into the bathroom, but they’d deserted him the moment he pulled the pipe out of his jacket. That’s what Matt told the police, anyway.”

  “So there were no witnesses.”

  “Well, the police consider me a witness, since I was the person who saw Matt with the weapon.”

  “That’s not helpful at all.”

  “I know.”

  “He was just defending himself!”

  “I know, sweetheart. Unfortunately, just knowing isn’t enough. They want physical evidence, and while Matt was obviously beaten, Patrick was the one taken to the emergency room, so . . .”

  I closed my eyes. This was so bad.

  “I told them something was going to happen. I told them!”

  Lucas’s forehead creased. “You told who?”

  “Principal Mullins and Tommy.” I then told him all about my confrontation with Shellie and the other teachers, which led to an even bigger confrontation with the principal.

  “I’m not surprised,” Lucas said after I told him about the principal’s reaction. “I am a little disappointed in Tommy, though. That’s why you were so upset when you returned to class.”

  I nodded and snuggled close to his chest.

  “Will you still love me when I’m unemployed?”

  He laughed lightly.

  “I’m serious. I was definitely insubordinate. I’m a new hire. Even if I somehow survive this school year, I can’t imagine Principal Mullins will recommend hiring me back.”

  “Don’t worry about that now,” he said, kissing my cheek softly.

  He was right. We had much bigger issues to deal with at the moment.

  “What will happen to Matt?”

  “I don’t know. He’s eighteen, and Patrick could press charges.”

  “It was self-defense!”

  “Can you prove it?” Lucas asked. “You can’t, baby. And if they use me as a witness, I will have to admit I found Matt standing over Patrick’s body with a pipe in his hands.”

  “Matt’s arm was still in a cast. How much damage could he really do?”

  His eyes looked haunted. “A metal pipe can do a lot of damage.”

  Lucas fell silent then, and I knew the discussion was over. Protecting me had become a religion to him, and there was no way I was going to get the gory details.

  Trying to soothe him, I gently stroked his face.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Sarah, it was terrible,” he said, swallowing hard. “I don’t particularly like Patrick—and I can’t say he didn’t deserve to have his ass kicked—but it was still hard to see him like that.”

  “Beating him with a metal pipe isn’t an ass kicking. That’s aggravated battery, and Matt could go to jail.”

  Lucas’s cell phone rang, and I climbed off his lap and took my mug to the kitchen while he answered it. I was exhausted and emotional, and all I really wanted to do was crawl into bed with Lucas and ignore the rest of the world for the next four days.

  Unfortunately, that was impossible, because I had a Thanksgiving dinner to prepare and parents to meet.

  Opening the refrigerator, I made a quick note of some things I still needed to pick up from the store. What would they like for breakfast? Did they like coffee? I didn’t even own a coffee maker.

  “That was my mom,” Lucas said as he walked into the kitchen. “They offered to postpone their trip until Christmas if we’d rather wait.”

  I spun around. “Why would we want to wait?”

  “It’s been a hell of a week, Sarah. Maybe it’d be nice to just have the holiday to ourselves.”

  It was so tempting, but I really did want to meet his parents. Besides, spending time with family was important. It was one of those lessons you didn’t learn until your entire family was gone.

  “What do you want to do?” They were his parents, after all, and he’d had a traumatic day, too.

  He pressed his forehead against mine. “I want to do whatever will make you happy.”

  I rolled my eyes and grinned. “That’s your answer for everything.”

  Smiling, he kissed me softly.

  “We have a lot to be thankful for,” I said. Despite the drama, and despite the fact I’m probably going to be flipping burgers at the diner next school year . . .”

  Lucas laughed.

  “. . . the one thing that’s perfect is us, and I want them to see how happy their son makes me. I want to be surrounded by family this Thanksgiving, even if it isn’t my own.”

  Tilting my head up toward his, he kissed me tenderly. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were full of emotion.

  Excitement. Happiness. Love.

  So much love.

  “You are my family,” he whispered sincerely.

  I smiled. “And you are mine.”

  “Breathe, baby.”

  Lucas’s arms were around my waist and his chin was on my shoulder as we watched his dad climb out of the rented black SUV. Jonathan Miller walked around to his wife’s door, and I smiled.

  “Like father, like son.”

  Lucas kissed the side of my neck. It was his way of trying to relax me, but it was impossible. Wasn’t it natural to be nervous? Not that I had any frame of reference, but I imagined meeting the parents for the first time was a big deal. Ryan had never introduced me to his folks, so this was completely new and totally nerve-wracking.

  “There you are!” Olivia Miller squealed excitedly from the bottom of the porch. She was dressed in a red blouse and jeans, and her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail. Smiling at me with her son’s piercing blue eyes, she pulled me out of his arms and straight into hers, enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Miller.”

  “Oh, I’m much too young to be called Mrs. Miller,” she said with a bright smile. “I’m Olivia, and it’s wonderful to meet you, too. My goodness, you a
re lovely.”

  “I have to be honest.” Mr. Miller said after he and Lucas shared a hug. “I couldn’t imagine anyone could be as pretty as my son described, but you certainly are.”

  My face was on fire. I wasn’t used to so much attention.

  “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”

  “Jonathan,” he corrected, and I smiled.

  Lucas and his mom shared a hug before he ushered us all inside.

  “It smells so good in here!” Olivia smiled brightly at me. “Lucas says you’re quite the cook.”

  “Lucas is very biased.”

  “With good reason,” he said, kissing me on the cheek before helping his dad with the bags. “How was the flight?”

  Jonathan complained about the turbulence while I dove headfirst into hostess mode. Everyone settled around the table while I poured lemonade.

  “Your house is just beautiful.” Olivia’s eyes ghosted over the room. “It was your grandmother’s?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Lucas tugged me by the hand and pulled me onto his lap. I could feel his parents’ eyes on us, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He just held me close and told them all about the renovations we’d made over the summer.

  “How many bedrooms?” Jonathan asked, his love for real estate kicking into high gear. I was sure my old house was nothing compared to the million dollar homes they sold in Manhattan.

  “It has three. I use one for a guest room and the other is basically a place to keep my books.”

  “Three bedrooms are perfect.” Olivia’s eyes were shining and wistful, and I wondered what she was thinking. “And the location is just gorgeous. It’s the perfect place to raise a—”

  Jonathan loudly cleared his throat. “What Olivia means to say is you have a beautiful home.”

  His wife shot him an annoyed glare while Lucas buried his face in my hair to cover his chuckle. Obviously, I was missing some private joke.

  “Thank you. Would you like to look around?”

  “Oh, we’d love that!” Olivia said excitedly.

  Lucas offered to show them the house while I stayed behind to check on dinner. I had just finished basting the turkey when my cell phone rang. Glancing at the screen, I took a deep breath before answering.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Aubrey.”

 

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