by Maya Sliver
“Yeah, I do.” My eyes find hers and I see quandary covering her face.
Before I could ask her anything, I hear the girl speak. “Actually, Mister Wild, I’m here for a reason.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t think she’s here to apologize for the prank she played on us. And I don’t want to know any other reason of her presence here in my house.
I want her out of this house just now. There’s no place for pranksters and for those who draw fun by fooling others neither in this house, nor in my daughter’s life. Carrie is at a crucial stage of her life. The choices she makes today are going to influence her later in life. And I don’t want my daughter to fall for any glitzy thing that crosses her path.
Turning around, I walk to the sofa and sag into it.
“Dad.” I hear Carrie clearing her throat. “It’s like…”
She’s cut by the girl. “Actually, Mister Wild. I want to ask your permission to take Caroline with me for a night party this Saturday.”
What? Night party? Since when did Carrie start enjoying night parties? As far as I know, she’s never been to any night party up to now. See. The bad girl has started casting her spell on my innocent daughter.
I never speak. I think silence is the best way to avoid her. After all, she’s our guest. Carrie has brought her home. And no matter how much I despise this idea of hers, I still can’t misbehave with the guest.
When I don’t speak and keep myself busy turning the pages of the newspaper which I failed to read in the morning, Carrie mumbles, “Dad, please.” She clears her throat, comes to the couch, and perches next to me. Her hand lands on my shoulder. “I won’t be out for the night. It’s only the matter of two or three hours.”
Impatiently, I drop the newspaper to my lap and exhale a cold sigh. “What time are you planning to go?”
“Umm.” She swivels her neck and looks at the emerald-eyed girl who’s still standing at the same spot where she was a few moments ago.
“Eleven p.m.,” the girl speaks.
“Eleven is too late.” Folding the newspaper, I toss it on the couch, next to me, thinking that I’ll probably read it once this strange female is out of my house.
“The pub only opens at ten.”
“What? Pub? You kids are going to a pub?” I could literally feel my eyes growing narrow.
“What’s wrong with that, Mister Wild?” The girl arches her extra-thin eyebrows on her small forehead clustered with her golden fringes.
“Everything. Kids of your age shouldn’t be going to pubs and all.”
“You talk like an old Dad.”
“Because I’m an old Dad.” I rise and stand tall, my whole body now facing her.
She flinches, tucks her hair behind her ears, looks down, before looking up once again and meeting my eyes. The effect of those bright jewels stays me for several seconds.
“If you’re worried about her safety, I assure you we are an awesome group of friends. Your daughter will be in safe hands. And if all that doesn’t sound great, I’ll personally drop her home after the party.”
“Look, Miss…”
“Blake.”
I pause for a while. “What’s your full name.”
“It’s just Blake,” she speaks in a low tone as if trying to hide something. I don’t know what.
“Okay, Blake. Listen, I don’t allow my daughter to roam on the roads or go pub-hopping in the middle of the night. And that’s it. There’s no more discussion about Carrie going with you to some bizarre gathering of freaks.”
“You can’t say such words for those who your daughter loves spending time with.”
“If that’s the case I can tell her to keep her distance from crazy folks like you. Life is much more than hanging out and going to pubs.” I shift on my feet and again sink in the couch, picking up the newspaper and pretending that I’m busy. That I don’t want this discussion. That I want the blonde out of my house. But only I know how helpless and confused I’m feeling right now.
Should I let Carrie go with her?
After all, she’s a grown-up girl. In the next few months, she will be an adult. She can make her own decisions. She should have all the freedom to make her own choices. If that’s all logical, I should allow her to go with Blake and have fun.
But I cannot. Maybe not now. Perhaps later. Probably not with this lady. Perhaps with some decent looking girl.
I’ve been fighting a war with my own self when I hear footsteps marching to the door.
“Take care, hon. See you at school.” A husky female tone makes its way into my ears and the next moment the door clicks open.
A faint sound of raindrops floats in through the open door followed by a ruffle of cold breeze.
“You got a raincoat?”
“Oops. But I can walk. No probs. My dorm is just a few blocks away.”
“Wait. I’ll drop you home.”
“It’s okay. No worries, doll. I can manage. I always do.”
“I know you’re smart, but I can’t let you go out in the rain that’s threatening to become a heavy storm. Wait up here.”
Next moment, I can sense Caroline standing next to me. “Dad,” she murmurs.
In no circumstance can I let my daughter go and drop the blonde home, especially in such a crazy weather when the downpour is so heavy it can transform into a storm anytime. I can’t entertain the idea of Carrie driving back home all alone in this weather. We are new to the place. Anything could go wrong. What if the old truck breaks down?
No.
What the hell? Now I have to drop the irritatingly shiny package at home.
Chapter Eight
Blake
“Please pull over here. I’ll walk the rest of the way,” I speak, my eyes sweeping the grassy byroad that leads to the dormitory where I stay.
“No worries. We can drop you right at your door.” Caroline looks back at me.
“It’s okay. It’s a bumpy street. Let me get down here,” I speak with desperation, unwilling to take them to the dormitory where I’ve been staying for the past two years. Not shabby but it’s an old rustic dwelling which possesses an aura of a haunted mansion. Besides, it sits at the other end of the street which is bumpy and potholed. And I don’t want to cause unnecessary trouble to Caroline and William.
By the way, Mister Wild’s first name is William. Caroline told me this while giving me a tour of her house. She also showed me the piano that Mister William Wild plays. The instrument is giant and sits at the center of the airy patio, upstairs.
The entire setting of their house, its location, the interior all had a lasting effect on my mind. A cute little beautiful house felt like home to me. I admired its comeliness. Indeed, it had some bewitching effect on me. I feel like visiting it again and again. If only Mister Wild behaved a little less like a stranger to me. He’s a strict gentleman.
“You sure?” Caroline speaks again as the vehicle slows down and my eyes wander to the male blue ones shining in the rear-view mirror.
“Oh, yeah. Pretty sure.” I nod swallowing the knot of nervousness forming at the base of my throat. I drift my eyes away from the mirror and look at Caroline and smile.
And as I do that, the forbidden package of masculinity and appeal steers the truck to the wet and grassy byroad.
Fresh smell of wet grass mingled with the earthy smell of the first rain enters my nose as soon as I hop down the vehicle.
When I wanted to do a quick goodbye to the father-daughter duo and head back home, there’s something that forces my eyes to meet the sky-blue ones on an extra handsome face.
As a courtesy call, I step to Caroline’s side to wish her goodbye. Just as I do that, I hear the door of her side click open and she gets out of the truck.
“You sure, you’ll walk the road. It’s still raining,” she speaks, her eyes narrowing, trying to avoid the rowdy drops of rain.
“Stop worrying about me and get inside or you’ll get sinuses.”
Caroline had told me how
rain wreaks havoc over her over-sensitive sinuses. I don’t want her to fall sick and miss classes. She’s a bright student and I do so want her to excel in the upcoming exams.
“See you at school.”
“Of course.”
We hug and peck and exchange a few seeing off gestures before I finally bid a goodbye and thank Caroline and her dad for dropping me home. Okay, not exactly home but a few steps away from home. I wave as Caroline hops inside the vehicle and secures the seatbelt across her torso. She waves back and smiles.
I turn around anticipating the engine revving up and the vehicle departing. Instead, I hear someone speak. There’s a faint murmur of William talking to his daughter. The raindrops have started playing pitter-patter on the truck rooftop and I can’t hear their conversation. My steps falter when I hear Caroline calling out my name.
“Blake, wait up,” she calls me from behind. I turn around only to find her standing outside the vehicle, now with a big black umbrella in her white cottony hands.
“You can use this.” She steps forward and hands me the umbrella. “Take care and I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She smiles. Next, she turns around and gets back in the vehicle.
I fling open the giant umbrella. Next moment, a black waterproof material is stretched above my head. I hold the steel handle with both my hands, my school bag, secured to my shoulders with straps, rests on my back.
“I’ll return it tomorrow,” I speak, smiling, looking at Caroline and then at William. He doesn’t look at me. His eyes are on the road in front of us as he turns on the ignition and steers the vehicle.
“You can keep it.” A husky baritone stirs my senses. This is the first time someone does me a favor without asking anything in return. Else, all through my life of nineteen years, I’ve traded favors and concerns with babysitting kids, working part-time in gardens and yards—clearing weeds, and doing laundry and dishes.
The last time I returned a favor of eighty dollars I borrowed from Missus Canavan, the tiny bookshop owner where I work on weekends, by babysitting her five-year-old autistic son while she’s away for the hearing of her divorce case.
That was the day when I first met Caroline and William. I fooled them unbeknown that one day Caroline would become my best friend and her dad my latest muse.
As much as I deny the intense magnetism I feel toward William, there’s something that forces me to peek inside those oceanic eyes. I don’t know what pull it is. Perhaps, it’s because I’ve always been devoid of parental love.
Am I looking to him as some sort of a father figure?
Whatever it is, I think I am beginning to get obsessed with this single brooding alpha male who happens to be my classmate’s dad.
Before I can wave a hand, the truck’s engine screams departure. I pull myself out of my reverie and wave and smile at Caroline.
Chapter Nine
Blake
“I’ve never done this before,” Caroline murmurs, a hand touching the pointed and overgrown grass blades of the school backyard.
“Do you want to go with us or not?” I ask looking at her waiting for her eyes to meet mine.
“Umm. I think I do.” She lifts her head and looks at me.
“Then don’t worry. We’ll drop you home before your dad is awake.” I tuck my legs beneath me and lean against the thick trunk of the red maple tree.
“What if he gets up and doesn’t find me in my room.”
“Does he often do this?”
“Do what?”
“Getting up in the middle of the night to check on you.”
“Hey, he’s my dad.” Caroline plucks some weeds and hurls them at me.
“Okay. Sorry. Just kidding.” I raise my hands in surrender clearing the weeds off my face and hair.
Caroline falls silent after that, sticking her gaze to the green grass.
The cool autumn breeze ruffles our hair as we sit in the vast green backyard of the school. There aren’t any more classes for me. No odd part-time jobs either. It’s time for me to get back to the dorm and spend some time studying. My grades are falling. I need to do some serious studies if I want to pass the final exams.
Studies. Final Exams. Graduation. Yes.
But what after that? I’m still not sure what I’m going to do after graduation. Still not clear about my goals and still confused about what I want from life.
Do I want to attend university? If yes, which course should I apply for?
When most of my friends want to attend university and go for higher studies, I’m tossing between looking for a full-time job or doing something which I truly want to do. But what it is? I don’t know.
“What should I do now?” she speaks with a tinge of disappointment in her voice.
“Don’t worry. We’ll go by the plan. I’ll pick you up from your house at eleven and drop you back home at two. It’s just a few hours past midnight. He won’t know a thing about it.” A brief smile curves my lips as William’s worried face flashes in my mind’s eye. For a moment, all worries about the future dissolve in the cool early autumn air of the beautiful backyard of the Westlake. Not for the entire day but at least for a moment or two I just want to keep myself busy dreaming about the hot single Dad.
I gaze at Caroline while William’s film plays in the back of my mind. She still looks undecided.
“Don’t worry, doll. You’ll rock the party.” I slap a hand on her shoulder, and she smiles though hesitantly.
“Thanks. Would you believe if I said this is gonna be my first night out with a group of friends?”
“Of course I believe you.” I smirk.
“What?” She looks at me, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“Nothing. Nothing about your dad.” I literally feel my lips curving into a wicked smile.
“Bitch.” She speaks under her breath, plucks some grass blades and tosses them at me.
***
“Come on, hop in,” I exclaim, the moment Caroline reaches our car.
She tucks her loose hair behind her ear before getting inside the vehicle.
“Ugh. Can’t you think of anything better than spandex.” I see Candice scrunch her nose as Caroline settles next to me. It’s Ben’s Dad’s SUV that he has borrowed for the night. While Joshua sits next to Ben who’s on the driver’s seat, Candice and Katy sit at the rear end of the giant vehicle.
“I just thought it would look cooler than my jeans.” Caroline shrugs, looking back.
“You look cool. Don’t worry.” I give a nod of assurance and that’s enough to silence the voices rising from the backseat.
“Shall we?” I hear Ben speak.
“Yes,” all girls shout in unison.
Next moment, we all are driving to the city’s most sought after pub—Poppers
When we reach the pub, a big fat guy welcomes us at the door. We get a quick entry as Ben is a regular visitor at the pub. Besides, we all carry tickets which again Ben has arranged for all of us.
Inside, the club is electric. It’s overly crowded. No one can see the dance floor. Everywhere people are dancing to the music. There’s no room for anyone but as soon as we all hit the floor the space magically opens. The music is all old, typical of the nineties, but we’re all dancing like it’s jive, twisting and turning and holding hands as we move from one side to another. We’re all smiles and happy faces. Perhaps, we look like idiots, maniacs, mad, but we don’t care. Inside, we’re happy and happier and more alive than we can ever be at home or anywhere else for that matter.
It’s true, I live a quiet life, but I savor crazy fun time. Being with my favorite people, enjoying some great music, having a good time, and dancing my heart out. I can go like this all night long, body swaying, feet moving to the crazy tunes like they belong to us, shaking my booty in my miniskirt like my hips are made to sway.
I feel myself going with the rhythm of the music. A part of me comes out to play, to feel the vibe of the music. My feet feel light as I follow the tunes, eyes closed, lost. And then
I see him inside the depth of my closed eyes.
I see William.
Chapter Ten
William
I’m surprised at the click of the deadbolt. Someone opens the door and then closes it. Next, I hear footsteps creeping on the wooden floor.
It’s only five, way too early for Carrie to get up, go for a walk and come back. I know my daughter. As much as she dislikes waking up early, she literally hates morning walks.
It won’t be her. Then who is it? A house burglar or a thief. No. The deadbolt we have installed on the front door is more reliable than any other automatic locks available in the market.
I place the rinsed coffee mug on the platform and march out of the kitchen, wiping my hands on my sweats.
When I reach the living room, I see my daughter creeping to the staircase.
“Carrie,” I speak, literally feeling my eyes growing narrow. I never expected her to be up so early in the morning.
“Yeah, Dad.” She looks at me. From her appearance, it’s clear she hasn’t slept the entire night. Crinkled eyes and dark circles are not my daughter’s things. She’s never been devoid of sleep. I always make sure she goes to bed by ten. It’s important to have a full eight hours of stress-free sleep at her age. After all, she has to study and study hard if she wants to make it to the university.
“Where have you been?” I ask.
“Umm… I just… Actually…we,” she fumbles.
“Have you been out all night?” Anxiety rises in my chest.
She drops her head down and buries her stare to the carpet.
Silence unfurls in the serenity of the morning. I keep my eyes on her, trying to figure what’s gone wrong that my daughter is hiding things from me. She goes out in the night, spends the entire night outside and then sneaks into the house in the early hours. All without my knowledge.
Where have I failed?
“Would you please tell me where you have been all night?” A tinge of anger laces my voice.