Teach Me New Tricks

by Parker, Ali

  “Wow. That’s a change and good for you. Seriously, you look like you’re so much more confident.”

  Her bright smile lit the place up. “I know. It feels good. I was confident when I told him there was nothing he needed to know. Honestly, I don’t think I care if he does know. I asked if it was a hard and fast rule and he says that it is, but I didn’t get the idea it was.”

  I smiled. I didn’t quite feel it, but I hoped she bought it. “I’m proud of you. You stood up for yourself.”

  She waved a hand. “I didn’t really do anything. I’m still lying to him.”

  “Not really,” I insisted.

  “It’s freeing. I like being in control. For the past couple of years, I’ve had one foot out the door. I’ve been looking over my shoulder, waiting to be fired for one thing or another. Turns out, I’m good at my job. So good, there are other professors who want to come in and observe my class to see what I’m doing.”

  “Congratulations. Although, I think I told you before you were an amazing teacher. I guess you could say I know what I’m talking about.”

  She giggled, her face lighting up. She looked so happy. “I guess you do. I wish it wasn’t a school night.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to celebrate! I want to kick my heels up, have a couple of drinks and dance.”

  It was a hint. She was waiting for me to offer to take her out. I wasn’t sure I could and therefore, didn’t offer. “You deserve to celebrate. Good for you. It’s time for you to start seeing yourself for the fabulous teacher you are. I bet you could get tenure soon. You’ll be the youngest tenured professor in history.”

  Her soft laugh warmed my heart. “I don’t know about that, but I appreciate your confidence.”

  “I’m proud of you, so proud.”

  “That means a lot,” she said with a smile.

  “Okay, we can’t really kick up our heels tonight considering we are both boring, responsible adults, but let’s eat something terrible. Something that will clog our arteries and make our cholesterol levels skyrocket.”

  She was laughing as she opened the menu. “Now that’s my kind of celebrating. Let’s do it. Steak? Baked potatoes smothered in butter and sour cream with bacon?”

  I nodded. “And cheese stick appetizers along with potato wedges. Go big or go home.”

  “You have no idea what you’re in for,” she warned.

  When the waiter came by to take our orders, I almost laughed at the shock and what I believed was awe on his face. I didn’t know if he was impressed or horrified. Like a true professional, he didn’t say a word about our monstrous order and quietly left us alone.

  “What are we getting for dessert?” I asked.

  “Oh lord, you are dangerous.”

  “I thought we talked about that before,” I said, falling into the easy flirting. It just came so naturally when I was with her. “You like dangerous.”

  “Stop. You’re going to make me blush. I don’t think the two of us can fit in one of those bathroom stalls.”

  “My truck is out front,” I offered, knowing it was wrong, but the idea of sex with her was not something I could pass up.

  “You’re going to stuff me like a pig and then you want to try and squeeze into the backseat of your extended cab?” she asked with a raised brow.

  I chuckled. “Who said anything about the backseat?”

  Her eyes widened. “Stop! You’re bad. So, so bad.”

  I loved teasing her. I loved seeing her cheeks flush and her eyes twinkle. There were so many things about her I liked, and I believed she could make me happy—but at what cost?

  When our meals were delivered, I felt a modicum of relief. We wouldn’t need to talk if we were stuffing our faces. The food was amazing. We occasionally commented on a particular food, nodding our heads and truly indulging ourselves.

  “So good,” she mumbled wiping her mouth. “Thank you for making the drive to have dinner with me.”

  “I’m glad you called,” I said, knowing the time had come. “Can we go somewhere after dinner and talk?”

  Her face fell. “Sure. Did you want to go back to my place?”

  I licked my lips before slowly shaking my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need to talk.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  I smiled. “Now, let’s order some dessert.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You know, I think I’ve eaten just about all I can.”

  She was right. I had killed the mood. I felt it the moment the words crossed my lips. I should have waited a little longer. No good ever came from the words, we need to talk. I knew that first-hand and yet I had just delivered the words to her.

  We finished our dinner, talking about safe subjects, like the weather and classes. We were both dancing around the looming talk.

  Chapter 45

  Leila

  I could just go home, I told myself. I could take a left at the light and never hear what he had to say. That wasn’t exactly mature, and it wouldn’t prevent him from saying what he had to say at some point, but I could put it off.

  Putting it off didn’t make it go away. I had messed with the guy’s head one too many times. I had tried to be honest with him from the very get-go, but it wasn’t enough. He was not the kind of man that had to wait around for a woman. He was handsome and successful and wealthy. There would be many women lining up to sink their claws into him.

  I should have seen the prize I had right in front of me instead of diddling around and freaking out about the stupid dean. If only I would have grown some damn balls a week ago. I could have saved whatever it was we had a week ago.

  I couldn’t now. I knew it as certain as I knew the sun would rise tomorrow.

  I parked my car in the spot next to Christopher’s truck in front of the marble slab creamery. I had told him I wasn’t interested in dessert, but he had insisted. It reminded me of the many times my social worker had picked me up and taken me for ice cream. Every time he took me to ice cream, I knew I was being jerked out of another foster home.

  Ice cream was not my favorite dessert. I had a bit of a love-hate relationship with it. After tonight, I had a feeling I was not going to be any fonder of ice cream than I was in that moment. I got out of the car and headed for the door where he was waiting for me.

  I had insisted on driving my own car. If he was going to dump me, I didn’t want to have to rely on him getting me back to my car. I didn’t want to be locked in a small space with him either. My elation after the meeting with the dean vanished. I felt miserable.

  He ordered ice cream for both of us and then led me to a small table. “What’s going on?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “Good ice cream,” he said.

  I smiled. “It’s the best ice cream in the world.”

  “That’s a bold statement.”

  “It’s true.”

  “I think I’ll be coming here a lot more often.”

  There was something eating at him. I knew he needed to unburden himself. I didn’t know what to say to get him to open up. “Christopher?” I said his name in a soft voice.

  “Yes?”

  “You brought me here to talk,” I started. “Why don’t you say what’s on your mind. I hate seeing you so troubled. Tell me what it is, and we’ll go from there.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. It sounded perfectly petulant. “But I think you need to.”

  “I do,” he groaned. “I have to, and I don’t want to.”

  “How are things with Olin?” I asked.

  He looked down at the ice cream. “Not good.”

  “Because of me?” My heart was in my throat, waiting to hear what he had to say. His expression said it all. I wasn’t sure he even needed to say the words. Yes, he did have to say it, because if he didn’t, I would continue to hope there was a chance. It was best to rip the bandage off.

  His eyes met mine. I could see the pain. It hurt my heart to
see him torn. He deserved to be happy. I wished like hell his son would give him a break. Olin had no idea just how good he had it. He had a loving father, a beautiful home and a stable life. The kid has suffered a loss, a huge loss, but he was taking it out on the wrong person. He was pulling his father into his misery and it wasn’t right.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. I’m divided. I know what I want, but I also know what I have to do.”

  “I know you have struggled,” I told him. “Please, do what you have to do. I’ll be all right.”

  “He told me to start dating,” he said. “I told him I didn’t want to, but he insisted. He told me he didn’t want me to be alone. He told me he didn’t want me to be alone after he went to school. When we went back home to Minnesota, one of his friend’s mothers hit on me. He was okay with me taking her out. At least that’s what he said. I took his suggestion to heart.”

  I nodded. “And now?” I whispered.

  “It’s killing me to see him so angry and upset. I can’t help but feel like I’m failing him. I can’t seem to be the man he needs me to be.”

  “Is it me or the idea of you with someone in general that is upsetting him?” I questioned.

  He shrugged. “I wish I knew. He doesn’t exactly open up. I don’t know if he knows what he wants. The kid is all over the place.”

  “Christopher, I think you’re being too hard on yourself. Teenagers get a bad rap for a reason. They aren’t easy. They put their parents through hell. You’re not doing anything new.”

  “Probably not, but I don’t like feeling this way.”

  “Have you asked him directly?”

  “Yes, but it’s a guessing game with him. I say something and wait to see what kind of reaction I’m going to get. I just never know with him. He’s up and then down and then up and in between, he hates me. I hate that he hates me. I don’t want him to hate me. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Not at all,” I assured him. “He loves you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you.”

  He shook his head, dropping his spoon in the bowl. “I honestly don’t know that. Some days, I don’t think he does. I truly believe he doesn’t like me.”

  “Have you thought about getting him some professional help?” I asked.

  He smirked. “A shrink?”

  “Yes. He’s gone through something horrible. He probably has some form of PTSD. I don’t mean to say he’s got mental health issues, I’m saying maybe he needs someone to talk to. He needs someone who isn’t close to the situation to unburden his soul. Maybe he needs to talk about the accident with someone that is trained on how to help people who have gone through what both of you have gone through.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. After she died, he had a counselor that he met with a few times. The counselor assured me he was fine and that with time, he would recover.”

  “Can I ask if this was his typical behavior before the accident?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I frowned. “You don’t know?”

  “I mean, he had his moments, but honestly, I didn’t spend that much time with him. I often ask myself if I’m seeing all the crankiness because I’m not working and I’m with him a lot more. Maybe he’s always been like this and I just never noticed. Carlie must have been dealing with a lot.”

  I offered a smile. “I once read that kids were little terrors when they were around their moms. They’d be little angels at daycare or school and then get home and act like something out of the Exorcist. They acted out with their moms because that’s where they felt safe. They knew their mothers would always love them. They trusted their mom to help them get through all their ugly emotions and feelings. In Olin’s case, he doesn’t have a mom. He has you. You are his safe space.”

  He chuckled. “I feel like I’m his hell. Coming through the door and seeing me waiting for him is his own version of hell.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he needs you more than he realizes. He’s lost and confused.”

  He let out a long sigh. “You’re probably right about all of it. You seem to be very insightful.”

  I heard the tone in his voice. I shoved a big bite of ice cream in my mouth and immediately regretted it. I squinted, trying to blink away the brain freeze. I glanced up at him and could see him mulling over his thoughts. He was trying to figure out how to say it.

  “But?” I whispered.

  “But, as much as I like being with you, I don’t think I can,” he breathed.

  I took another bite of ice cream. “Dammit,” I hissed, putting my fingers to my temple.

  “What?” he asked with surprise.

  “Sorry, not you, brain freeze,” I mumbled.

  “Oh,” he said before falling quiet again. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Leila. I have had such a good time with you. You’ve made me feel alive after I didn’t think I ever could be again. You’ve made me laugh and smile and truly, you’ve brought sunshine into my life.”

  “That’s just Texas,” I said with a grin.

  “No, it’s you. It isn’t fair that I ask you to wait and I won’t ask.”

  “Wait for what?” I asked a little too abruptly.

  “For me to resolve this situation with Olin,” he answered. “I have hope he will come around, but I can’t be sure. I don’t want to tell you that this could work between us and find out Olin would never accept it.”

  I nodded. “I understand.”

  “I want to remain friends,” he said.

  I tried to smile, but inside my heart was shattering. “I’d like that.”

  “What does that look like?” he whispered.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I can’t talk to you at school and I can’t talk to you when Olin is around. What does that leave?”

  I shook my head, letting out a long breath. “Not much.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  I shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s bad timing. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “Do you really believe that?” he asked looking directly into my eyes.

  I licked my lips. “I have to. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve repeatedly told myself things would have been so much better if we’d met at a bar or in the grocery store. I didn’t want to have to jump over the fraternization hurdle. I do have some understanding of what you’re going through. Not with the kid situation, but the problem of wanting something that you just can’t have right now. I get it.”

  “I should go,” he said.

  “Oh, yes, okay, well, uh—”

  “I’m sorry, Leila. I really am.”

  I waved it off. “It’s cool. I’m cool. I’ll see you around.”

  He got up, staring down at me. I couldn’t look at him. He waited. I didn’t get up. He’d kiss me goodbye. I didn’t want a goodbye kiss. I wanted to leave it as it was.

  He finally walked away. I watched him walk out the door. “Easy come, easy go,” I whispered.

  I put the spoon in the bowl and pushed the ice cream away. I hated ice cream. Ice cream was a bad omen in my mind. Every time someone fed me ice cream, they broke my heart. I was about tired of getting my heart broken.

  I got up, tossed my ice cream in the trash, and headed for my car after I saw his truck leave the parking lot. I was a coward. I didn’t want to have to look at him. I didn’t want to be close to him. It hurt. He was doing the right thing for him and his son. I knew that, and I couldn’t be angry about it.

  I smiled as I pulled out of the parking lot. It was one of the many reasons I had fallen for him. He was so good. I hated that he was so good. A lesser man would have chosen me. I went home, walking into my little house by myself and tossing my purse onto the couch. I carried the bottle of wine I had picked up into the kitchen.

  I poured myself a glass, celebrating the little victory I had and commiserating the loss at the same time. Life truly was a roller coaster. You
could be up, riding high, and then get flung out of the seat and slam your face into the ground the next moment.

  Fate was a bitch. It was cruel to dangle something like Christopher in front of me just to yank him away. I didn’t get to have a man like him. Somewhere up in the heavens where the gods that ruled our lives resided, some bitch had decided I didn’t get to have happiness.

  She could rot in hell.

  Chapter 46

  Christopher

  I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. Usually, a shower made me feel alive. It was like getting an infusion of the strongest coffee. Not today. I had thought long and hard about skipping class. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to face life. I just wanted to stay in bed with the blankets pulled up to my chin.

  The world felt darker today than it had in a really long time. The way I was feeling was very reminiscent of how I had felt in the weeks after Carlie’s death. I had felt so empty and alone. I didn’t realize how much I had come to count on the little texts from Leila before we went to bed each night or how good it felt to have another adult to talk to.

  In many ways, saying goodbye to Leila was a lot like losing another person I cared about. I wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that I would be able to see her on occasion. It would be like rubbing salt in a wound. I couldn’t have her. I couldn’t pop over to her classroom and talk about my day or ask about her.

  Technically I could, but I wouldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair. I had ended things and I didn’t need to confuse what I wanted by still showing up and treating her like we were together. Part of me was angry with Olin. After I had gotten home last night, I had tried to talk to him. He’d been in his usual mood and stomped upstairs when I asked to talk.

  I had given up the one woman I had found to be worthy of a relationship for him and he couldn’t even give me three minutes of his time. I hadn’t told him about Leila and I ending things. He wouldn’t have cared—not really.