Lure

by Maya Sliver

  Thunder rumbles outside. The storm has subsided but it’s still raining heavily. I glance out the window and feel anxiety rising several notches. I feel terrible about my conduct—the way I behaved with Blake.

  Shit. Muttering a curse, I slam a foot in the carpet and rise from the couch. It’s yet again going to be a pouring night, I think standing next to the window.

  Let me call her just to make sure she has reached home safely. With that thought in mind, I rush to the coffee table and grope for my cell phone. Thank god, I saved her number. I took her number from Carrie just to have an alternate point of contact in case Carrie didn’t pick up her own phone while at the party. I needed a number I could call if I wanted to check on my daughter. The selfish me.

  I slam the phone icon and put the cell phone close to my ear. Full ring and she doesn’t answer. What am I supposed to do now—go out and search for her, make sure she is safe and sound or sit quietly and let the night pass by, hoping that everything is going to be all right?

  I pace the living room twice pondering over my words. How the hell did I manage to behave so weird? Without questioning Carrie, I darted all the barbs on Blake. Yes, it’s true, it’s because of her Carrie is slipping into territories unknown to her. My daughter has never been to parties of such nature where folks get drunk and pass out as if getting drunk and getting laid and falling unconscious are the new pointers of a cool life.

  For a fleeting moment, I feel like letting everything go, forgetting about the green-eyed blonde and letting the night slip away. But then I can’t stop anxiousness sweeping all the corners of my heart.

  What if she never reaches home? What if she’s… Shit. All kinds of intimidating thoughts run through my head the moment I study the bleakness of the situation and glance at the darkness of the stormy night.

  I could have stopped her and let her stay until the rain subsided or at least offer her a drive home. If my eyes hadn’t fooled me, I’d not seen her carrying any umbrella or raincoat. She’s wearing skimpy clothes and she has no means of traveling to her dorm which if not too far is at a reasonable distance from here.

  I need to go out and find her.

  Not bothering to even change my clothes, I shove the mobile in the side pocket of my sweatpants and storm out of the house. Locking the door from outside, I rush to the parked truck. Within the next several moments, I am in an old pickup truck driving on the wet and solitary roads, looking through the windscreen. My eyes wander around every nook and cranny, every single twist and turn and bend and shade where I can find Blake walking or standing.

  Not much time has passed since she left the house. She should be found somewhere on the road to her house, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I travel all the way to the street where we dropped her a few days ago. She’s nowhere.

  Where the hell has she gone?

  Panic rises in my throat. I do a reverse and take a U-turn driving back, my eyes still darting across the road.

  I’m not going to forgive myself if anything goes wrong with Blake. Regret sweeps through me as I anxiously drive through the wet slippery roads, looking for any sign of a green-eyed girl.

  And just as I am about to lose the battle of finding her, something catches my attention. I look into the park. Behind the green-painted metal rail on an old wooden bench, partially hidden by the shrubbery, sits a girl. Rolling down the window, I look out. I can recognize her from her clothes and the tendrils of her long golden hair splayed across her back. Her head is bowed down.

  I quickly park the vehicle at the byroad and rush out of the car. She’s so close to me when I was searching all over. I scurry to the main gate of the park and dart inside through the metal entrance.

  Raindrops dance in the yellow light of the lamppost which glows on the top of the wooden bench. I can see her clearly now. She’s looking down, wiping her eyes every now and then, sniffing. Her clothes are all wet, water dripping from her golden tresses.

  I reach the bench and stand next to her. I’m ready to apologize, ready to take my words back, but I couldn’t do anything. I don’t know what went wrong. No matter how hard I try, my throat can’t form a simple word. I feel my lips fumbling, tongue rolling inward. I couldn’t speak except letting out a single grunt.

  Yes, a grunt.

  A disappointed grunt. A regretful grunt. A grunt full of worry and anxiousness.

  She lifts her head. Her green eyes meet mine and I feel something tick inside my heart. I muster some courage and round my lips. “I’m sorry.”

  My heart pounds as she stands and edges closer, looking deep inside my eyes. I don’t know what she’s up to by staring at me. Her gestures are unfathomable. She edges even closer so much so that the tips of our shoes kiss each other.

  Tears still stream out of her green eyes that look even greener in the yellow lighting of the lamppost. I can see inside those puddles of sorrow. There’s pain and so much of it, I had a hard time stopping myself from reaching out to her and comforting her.

  She’s in pain. She’s not the girl I know. In that fragile moment, she looks entirely different from the girl she tries to be all the time. Blake looks weak and vulnerable.

  “Let’s get you back home,” I mumble, placing a hand on her shoulder, peeking inside her eyes. I see fresh tears glazing them and then she hugs me, places her head on my chest, right where my heart is. It happens all at once I don’t have enough time to do anything other than hug her back. The thin fabric of my T-shirt gets more soaked from her salty tears than by the cold rain.

  I keep on hugging her. Keep on stroking her back. We keep on standing there, getting wet in the rain. And when the platonic feelings transform into something darker, I take a step back.

  Just as I try to withdraw, she hisses, “Please, William. Stay.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Blake

  “I’m sorry. You probably think of me as a secret-revealing bitch,” I speak, touching the blades of grass, recalling the night when I revealed Caroline’s secret to William.

  “It would’ve come out someday.” She sucks in a deep breath.

  “Please, Carz. Forgive me,” placing a hand on the top of hers, I murmur.

  She drifts her eyes from the green grass to me. “I think we should forgive and forget and move on. You forgive my dad’s bad behavior toward you and I forgive you for revealing my secret.” A brief smile curves her lips. “I’ve had enough pain in my life. I’ve never had a real friend. Your friendship matters a lot to me, and I don’t want to ruin our relationship because of something which has already done a lot of damage to me.” She clears her throat and wipes her eyes.

  Again, I recall the night and in what circumstances I spat out the truth.

  He said I’m a bad influence on his daughter. In a rage, I couldn’t stop myself from letting him know it’s not me but their family dynamics. It’s he himself and his wife who are responsible for pushing Caroline into something as bleak as losing her virginity. I mean she was just fourteen. And she purposely did it just to let out all the pent-up anger and frustration over her parents’ failed relationship.

  “I never wanted to spill your secret, but then it happened on its own. I wonder how and why I lost control on my speech. I should have thought twice before spitting anything out, but then I felt too miserable, too weak I had nothing left to defend myself against his accusations.”

  “It’s okay, Blake. Let’s move on. Let’s have dinner together. How about this Saturday?” She smiles, brushing imaginary dust off her shoulder.

  “Dinner?”

  “Let’s clear up the mess. By now, I believe Dad has also started seeing you in a more positive light, thinking you’re not as such a bad company.” A lopsided smile curves her lips.

  “What? Am I a bad company?”

  “To some extent.” She winks as she gathers her backpack and rises.

  “Like.” I too rise, brushing weeds and dried up grass blades off my jeans.

  “Like you make me miss classes.”
r />   “FYI, it’s not me.”

  “If we spend a little more time talking and arguing, we won’t be able to make it to Miss Maurice’s class.”

  “Hell yes. Today, she’s going to tell us about the study trip that she’s planning to take us on.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hurry, girl.”

  “Yup, lets.”

  ***

  It’s a Saturday and I’m done with all my odd jobs. I’m getting ready for a dinner with Caroline and William. It’s been a week since that crazy rainy night and a week to the soothing hug I shared with William. Memories of that rainy night are still strong in my head and heart both. I feel critters swarming in my belly as I think about our hug.

  I reminisce the hug and my lips instantly curve into a smile. After the hug, he dropped me home. The night would have ended on a friendly note, had I not turned back, reached him out and planted a goodbye kiss on his stubbled cheek. After that, it became the night of untamed dreams and fantasies. Dreams that I see, fantasies that I weave.

  He was all amazeballs. He might have never expected something like this, but I was in no way ready to let him go without expressing my appreciation. And though he had treated me badly a few hours earlier, his genuine concern and his running across the town searching for me, just to make sure I was okay gave my heart all tingly reasons to at least express my gratitude to him. And a kiss seemed the most genuine gesture. Isn’t it said when words fail you, use your inner instinct to express your feelings? My inner voice told me to go ahead and kiss him and I did. There’s no regret in doing something your heart tells you to do. I go by the saying—life is short, live in the moment, and let your heart guide you.

  I brush my hair, letting it fall on my shoulders and look myself one last time in the small pocket mirror, pressing my lips together so as to let the lipstick spread evenly on my thin lips.

  I’ve never felt so self-conscious before as I’m feeling right now. Okay, it’s not a dinner date. I’m going to have dinner with my friend and her Dad, but still I want to look good and presentable. It could be that, somewhere in the back of my mind, I want to impress William with my looks, yet I know he’s a tough nut to crack. The brooding single Dad can fall for any woman but a girl of my age. Nah! He will never fall for a girl who is years younger than him, and a girl who happens to be his daughter’s best friend.

  Shit. I toss the brush on the unkempt bed and pace the room twice. Why does age always come in between two people? Is it wrong to have feelings for a man who’s decades’ older than you? Is it wrong to have desires for your best friend’s dad?

  Shaking the ill thoughts off my head, I look at the wall clock. Though the father-daughter duo stays a few blocks away from my dorm, I still want to keep a buffer of ten minutes. In the past few days, I’ve learned a lot about Caroline and William. I can easily write a thesis on them. I’ve grasped all the big and small details about William from the information Caroline unknowingly spilled during our conversations. Of late, me and Caroline have been spending a lot of time together. Most of the time, we talk about Caroline’s childhood, her mother and, of course, William.

  And from all the details I’ve gathered, I can easily say that if not Caroline, her dad hates latecomers. His demeanor and the aura that surround him clearly indicate his perfectionist attitude. Being on time is a common trait of a perfectionist. And I don’t want to miss any chance of impressing the hot single perfectionist. I want to be on time.

  Since it’s Saturday, my other roommates are out for the weekend, some visiting their parents, while others are busy partying and pub hopping. Our gang of friends also have a night out at Poppers. Ben, Josh, Candy, and Katy all are going except me and Caroline. Of late, we’ve become very close, spending most of our time in each other’s company.

  I come out of the dorm and walk on the slippery road. Today without fail, I carry an umbrella with me. The same that William gave me a few weeks ago. It’s been drizzling since the fall of the evening, so I open the umbrella and hold it over my head.

  A few minutes of walk and I reach my destination. Standing in the dimly-lit porch, I glance around. A thin mist covers the green leaves of the shrubs and plants in the garden.

  I’m observing the greenery and the faint sound of water droplets playing pitter-patter on the tin roofing of the porch, pivoting on my heels when I hear the door click open.

  “Hey.” Caroline is all grins. She looks pretty in black slacks and a pink sweater. Stepping into the porch, she opens her arms wide and folds me in a hug.

  “Hope I’m on time,” I whisper pulling back.

  “Yup, on the dot.” She smiles, pulling me by my hand. Next moment, we are inside. The living room is bathed in bright light. It looks prettier than I’ve seen before, neatly organized and perfectly ventilated. The kitchen is well arranged. A black granite kitchen island gleams under the hanging lights. The house is calm and peaceful and very well organized. Nothing is missing. The house is warm and crisp and smells of tasty food, it makes my stomach rumble with hunger.

  “What’s in the dinner?” I ask, shifting on the couch glancing in the kitchen.

  “You’re going to have the country’s best pot roast.” She exclaims. “Dad specializes in making authentic French style pot roast.”

  “Oh great!” Okay, so he’s a cook too. I smile, glancing around, searching signs of his commanding presence just as the oven beeps. Next, footsteps thump heavily on the wooden staircase.

  Gosh! He looks handsome in worn-out jeans and a V-neck tee that exposes a sliver of his hairy chest. His raven-black hair is wet, swept back. Perhaps, he has just taken a bath.

  “Hey, Dad. Blake’s here.”

  “Hi. How are you doing?” He smiles as I rise from the couch. Our eyes meet and I feel butterflies swarming inside my belly. His smile is genuine, a welcome kind of smile while I find it hard to keep mine chaste.

  “Hey.” I bite my lower lip, not ready to take my eyes off his handsome face. For a moment, it feels as if time has stood still. Memories of the rainy night crowd my head.

  God! Please help me handle my heartbeat.

  I chant a silent prayer and sink back into the couch again while William gets busy in the kitchen.

  The dinner goes uneventful. We chat and smile as we eat our meals. Indeed, it’s the best pot roast I’ve ever had.

  After dinner, we sit by the fireplace and have our tea, chatting and talking about inconsequential things—school, studies, extracurricular activities at school etc.

  And then it’s time for me to go home. It’s not too late so I politely decline any offers made by Caroline of dropping me home.

  “Chill girl, it’s not too late, and it’s not raining either, and even if it rains, I have this.” I wave the umbrella.

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot that you’re carrying Dad’s umbrella.”

  “And I have no intention of returning it.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s yours.” Before Caroline, her dad speaks as he comes out of the kitchen and walks me to the exit.

  “Thank you,” I say as we all saunter out to the porch. We stand there for a while and pass a few seeing off gestures when something rings in the background. It’s a phone call.

  “I’ll be right back.” Caroline runs back into the house leaving me and William in each other’s company. First, it feels awkward, standing alone with him in the porch of his house but then it seems the best opportunity to strike a one to one conversation with him.

  “So you teach music.”

  “Yeah. I think so.” He smiles briefly.

  “Do you take private tuitions?”

  “I used to, not any longer.” He flinches and then massages his temples, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Why?”

  A pause of few minutes seems like a year of deafening silence. He doesn’t speak just stare at the green yard in front of us, gazing in the darkness of the night, folding his arms to his chest.

  “I’m sorry if I asked something w
hich you don’t want to answer.” Edging closer to him, I place a hand on his arm, muscular and chiseled and bulging against the fabric of his cotton T-shirt.

  “It’s okay.” He looks at me and I get a fair chance of peeking inside those pools of blue. I stand a mere inch away from him, and there’s enough light to notice the depths of pain and loneliness that lurk inside those azure oceans.

  We gaze at each other for several moments before I snake my arm around him and press my head against his chest. “Will you teach me?” I murmur.

  I don’t know if I have an inclination toward piano, but I love music of any sort. It’s not wrong to start with learning and playing piano. Who knows playing piano could become my passion one day. And also there’s nothing wrong in exploring your creative side especially when your friend’s dad is a music teacher, and especially when you drool over that music teacher.

  Me becoming William’s student serves one more purpose. I can visit him every day on the pretext of learning piano. Okay, I want to learn piano but beyond that I want to explore the hidden side of William’s personality. I want to know him and know him all, inside out. Yes. I want to know everything about the hot brooding single man who newly moved to the neighborhood. A man who’s years older than me. And a man who happens to be my best friend’s dad.

  Chapter Fifteen

  William

  Gone are the days when I would teach kids on a one-to-one basis. I’ve stopped taking private tuitions. The music school where I work keeps me busy most of the time and whatever little time I get, I prefer spending it with Carrie. But when Blake asked me if I would teach her, I couldn’t say a resounding no. I felt perplexed. Why the hell does she want to learn to play the piano? Does she have any inclination toward music? I don’t know. Carrie never told me such a thing about her friend, but then I never asked my daughter much about her new friend. A friend who she trusts more than me, who she confides her secrets to, and who she literally adores as a friend.