Between the Lines

by Jane Charles

  Between the Lines

  Copyright © 2015 by Jane Charles

  Cover Design by Lily Smith

  Night Shift Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and events are either a product of the author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Dedication

  For all of my teachers! I’ve had some of the best teachers in the world. From my first grade teacher who taught me to read, to my high school English teacher who made creative writing so much fun. For the math teachers who tried to help me understand that letters belong in equations, the science teachers who were okay with me getting queasy when faced with a dead frog and a scalpel, and the sociology teacher who challenged us to think beyond our small, high school world. To the choir director, band leader and musical directors and art teachers who touched my life from kindergarten until I accepted my high school diploma on my 18th birthday. Thank you for being so awesome. Thank you for caring. Thank you for the encouragement and always being such a positive influence on my life.

  Preface

  The Baxter Academy of Arts is a fictional high school and a product of my imagination, as is the city/town, which still has no name. It’s located in New York State, has a population of roughly 20,000 people, and is within driving distance to Poughkeepsie.

  Picture a friendly community with tree lined streets and Victorian houses. It has a town square, complete with a gazebo in the center. This is where the adults live, many of them working at Baxter.

  As for Baxter Academy of Arts, I’m not sure if there’s a high school like it anywhere, though I hope there is. It serves the educational needs of teenagers with emotional and behavioral needs. The students once lived in residential treatment centers, group homes, half-way houses, or juvenile detention centers and would simply be lost among the hundreds of students at any high school. And, they are incredibly talented in the arts. They are at Baxter to prepare to go out in the world and realize dreams when at one time, they were without hope.

  I hope you enjoy the series.

  Jane

  Gabe – 1

  “Who the hell is that?” Mateo Perez, a therapist at the Baxter Academy of Arts, says before giving a low whistle.

  I’m wondering the same thing. A long-legged blonde, short skirt swinging behind her most definitely fine ass is going up the steps of the Victorian house where Mateo and I share an apartment. She’s carrying bags, as if she has been shopping, but I don’t see a car. “If I hurry, maybe I’ll find out.” Reaching back I grab my cane from the back seat.

  “And maybe I don’t need to get my oil changed just yet either.” Mateo is leaning around me. We’re both watching her struggle to open the door. Wait, she’s unlocking the door. She has a key?

  “Dude, she lives in our house?” Mateo asks in amazement.

  “Apparently, and I think it’s time I got neighborly.” I grin at him and open the passenger side door. “You should probably go get that oil changed. You’re already over the mileage limit.”

  “I can’t let you face that heavenly sweetness all alone.” Mateo gets out of the car and walks around the front of it, meeting me on the sidewalk. “Besides, she’d look so much better with me.”

  I shoot him a look.

  “You’re blonde. She’s blonde. Boring! However, her sexy blondness with my rugged dark looks would be a beautiful combination.” He grins. “Besides, the ladies can’t resist a hot Latino.”

  “Well, if you see any, don’t send them around here, okay.”

  “Hey!”

  He may act insulted but I know he’s not. The one thing Mateo has never lacked is confidence. “Go get your oil changed. I got this.” I limp toward the house and Mateo rushes past me. Damn him for being able to move quicker than me. I haven’t cursed my injury in a long time, but I do today.

  “Let me help you,” Mateo is saying as he takes the bags from the beauty, just as I reach the steps.

  She smiles and it’s brilliant. Straight, white teeth, lush lips, blushing skin. “Thank you.” She turns back to the door. “My key seems to be sticking.”

  “Here, let me.” The door’s been touchy since we moved in. Depending on the weather, sometimes it’s impossible to open and we have to go through the back. It’s just a small inconvenience for living in an old house with cheap rent. Mateo and I snatched up the two bedroom apartment right after we started working at Baxter last summer. It’s roomy enough that we don’t feel like we are on top of each other. He’s saving every penny so he can to send money to his mom and siblings, and I’m all about building my bank account to pay off school loans since I lost my scholarship when I could no longer play football.

  I grab the handle, lift up on the door and turn the key. The deadbolt slides out of place, and I open the door.

  “Thank you so much,” the blonde says gratefully.

  Mateo may have got to her first, but I got the door open. Score one for me. “Hi, I’m Gabe Kent. Did you just move in?”

  “Ellen West.” She returns my smile. Damn she’s beautiful. “Moved in a few days ago.”

  Mateo steps between us. “Mateo Perez,” he says. “I’d be happy to carry these upstairs for you.”

  She laughs. “That’s okay, I got it.” And she takes the bags from him.

  Mateo and I just stand there staring after her as she goes up the stairs. My eyes are on those legs that go on forever until she disappears. “She is near perfection.”

  “You got that right.” Mateo whistles. “And, she’d still look better on my arm.”

  I ignore him and unlock the door to our apartment. “Beer?”

  “Sure.” He follows me inside. “Shit. I forgot. I’m on call. None for me.”

  “Your loss.” I toss the keys on the table and limp into the kitchen. As I grab a beer, I also take the icepack from the freezer. My knee could use the cold. It hasn’t been this bad for a while but I slipped on the wet floor at the hospital. The last thing I needed was to fucking twist this knee and can only hope it was a small irritation and nothing else.

  Mateo grabs a soda and plops down in his favorite chair. “So, who do you think she is?

  I shrug. “It can’t be Jesse’s replacement. She was here before he was hurt.”

  “That must be her red Audi in the parking lot,” he says. “Beautiful car for a beautiful lady.”

  “More like a sexy car for a sexier lady.”

  “She’d still look better with me,” Mateo insists.

  I know he’s only trying to goad me because I didn’t respond last time. “In your dreams.” I twist the top off the bottle and take a swig. “What do you think’s going to happen to Jesse?” Jesse Tinley, one of the art teachers at Baxter, was arrested this weekend, only four days ago. He was accused of having intimate relations with a sixteen-year-old girl, then beat up in jail, which included his right hand being crushed beneath the boot of a thug before being put in the ICU. The girl recanted two days later, admitting she made the whole thing up. We just got back from visiting him in the hospital, where I slipped on the wet floor. He’s going to be okay, but it’s going to take a lot of time to heal and I’m not even sure he’ll be able to sculpt again.

  “I don’t know, but at least he’s been cleared of any
charges,” Mateo answers. “She has no idea the world of hurt she could have caused Jesse. If she’d stuck to her story, he could have gone to jail and then labeled as a sex offender after he got out. It pisses me off.”

  “This coming from a youth therapist.” I laugh. “You deal with troubled kids every day. Nothing should surprise you.”

  “I know I shouldn’t be pissed, but her making this shit up because she had some romantic notion about Jesse is just fucking wrong.” He takes a drink and sets the can down on the table. “I just hope she gets the help she needs because something isn’t right and it needs to be fixed before it spirals further out of control.” Mateo glances over at me. “They let me see the video of her by Jesse’s bed. She needs help. A lot of it.” He’s shaking his head.

  “Do you think Jesse will be back at Baxter?” It’s a question I’ve been wondering about.

  Mateo shakes his head. “I doubt it. He may have been cleared, but people will always wonder. I can’t imagine that Baxter wants that kind of speculation, especially with the kids we deal with.”

  “That sucks,” I say before taking another swig of my beer. “I just hope it all works out for him.” Even if he had a job to come back to, I doubt Jesse will be in any condition for a long time. More surgeries are scheduled for the hand and then intense therapy. I know what that’s like and wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

  There’s a tentative knock at the door and Mateo and I look at each other. I’m hoping it’s the blonde coming for a visit, even though she can’t know which apartment is ours. There are two on the first floor, two on the second and one in the former attic.

  Mateo jumps up and opens it. It is her and my day just got better. She’s standing at the threshold with a tentative smile.

  “Well, helllloooo?” Mateo greets her.

  “I know this is lame and cliché, but by chance, do you have a cup of milk?”

  Ellen

  I knew I recognized them and it was confirmed as soon as I looked at the Baxter website when I got to my apartment. Mateo Perez is a counselor and the blond hunk with piercing blue eyes is the English teacher, Gabe Kent.

  I can’t believe my luck. I thought I’d have to waste the rest of spring break finding some kind of entertainment before I could begin my interviews at the school. Even though the appointment isn’t until Monday, I wanted to get here a week early and get settled. I just didn’t anticipate how small the town was and that there’s hardly anything to do here. If I can get these two to talk I can begin working on my story now.

  “Sure,” Mateo says, opening the door wider. Normally, I wouldn’t just go to a strange man’s apartment, especially one containing two strange men, but since they work at Baxter, I don’t feel overly threatened.

  The conversation I heard in the emergency department at Bellevue Hospital replays in my head. Maybe this isn’t wise, but I have a school to investigate and a story to write, and I’ve been in far more dangerous situations.

  “Come in,” Gabe says. “Want a beer, soda?”

  I bite my lip. Now’s my chance. “A beer would be nice. Thanks.”

  Mateo goes to the fridge and grabs a beer. “So, where did you come from, Ellen?” He twists off the top and hands it to me.

  “New York.”

  “Why are you here?” Gabe asks in surprise.

  I get it. This is a small, quaint town, from what I’ve seen of it. The complete opposite of New York City. “I’m working on a story and this seemed like a good place to be.”

  “Have a seat,” Mateo says as he hands me the beer.

  There’s one chair and a couch where Gabe is sitting. As he’s more in the center than on one end, I sit in the chair because I don’t want to jostle his injured knee.

  “So, you’re an author.” Mateo grins. “What do you write?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie, but I don’t. This one is too easy to confirm, but I hope it doesn’t put them off. “More of a journalist.”

  Gabe frowns and takes a swig of his beer.

  “What newspaper, or is it a magazine?” Mateo asks.

  “Neither,” I admit. “I thought I wanted to work for a major newspaper but quickly learned after an internship that I wasn’t cut out for working for big companies. I don’t like being told what to do and what to write.” That’s why I started my blog. It was the only thing I could think of to use my investigative reporting degree for the purpose I got it in the first place. I have scores to settle and people to save. Newspapers and magazines may report on politics, but they have a whole political system of their own that I don’t want any part of. It’s the same with any corporation. You can only rise as far as you’re willing to kiss ass, and I don’t kiss anyone’s ass. “I do freelance work sometimes.” Which is the truth. I just don’t do it real often. I shrug. “And, I have a blog.” They don’t need to know that the blog is my job, and my purpose in life. And my current assignment, which I gave to myself as soon as it came on my radar, was to investigate the Baxter Academy of Arts. Not that these two need to know that, just yet.

  Mateo’s phone beeps and he pulls it out of his pocket and answers.

  “Okay, got it. Be there in a bit.”

  He hangs up and puts it back in his pocket as he stands. “Mag needs me. Gotta go.”

  Gabe simply nods.

  If I hadn’t researched Baxter, I’d assume Mag is a friend or something, but Mag is an Administrator of some sort at Baxter. Why would she need Mateo during Spring Break?

  Gabe – 2

  She’s a fucking reporter. A hot one, but a reporter all the same. I knew she was too good to be true. Then again, she hadn’t written any of the articles that nearly destroyed Jesse, so can I really hold it against her?

  “What do you do, Gabe?” she asks.

  “I teach English, Literature and Creative writing at Baxter Academy of Arts.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Yeah, it’s okay.” I’m not about to tell her that it’s the best job I ever had because she might ask questions.

  “Are you on spring break, since you’re here and not there?” She smooths her skirt over her thighs. I kind of wish she wouldn’t. Those are the nicest legs I’ve seen in a long time. Long and toned. Strong and shapely. She’s got to have some power in those thighs, the kind a guy likes a woman to have when she rides him.

  Shit! I barely know her and I already want to know what her legs feel like locked around my hips.

  “Yep.” I glance at the clock. “Though technically, since it’s near four, I’d be getting off work soon anyway.” It’s already four? Mateo and I must have been at the hospital longer than I thought. A lot of us from the school had dropped by, taking our turns going in to visit and trying not to stay so long as to wear Jesse out. He’s still pretty drugged and was in and out of it, but I’m glad I got a chance to see him. The rest of the staff who came by hung out in the family lounge until it was their turn.

  I glance back at her, trying not to focus on the sexy legs. “What are your plans for dinner?”

  Her brown eyes pop open, a bit surprised. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Probably a frozen dinner or takeout.”

  “We could order something and have it delivered.” I probably should actually take her somewhere, but I want to stay off my leg. A frozen dinner doesn’t sound appetizing and I don’t want to be hobbling around the kitchen trying to put a meal together. However, I do want to spend more time with Ellen.

  She smiles. “I think it’s a great plan.”

  “So, what are you in the mood for?” At this point, I don’t care what we have, I’m just glad she’s staying because I definitely want to get to know Ellen West a hell of a lot better.

  Ellen shrugs. “Mexican?”

  Shit! Is that because of Mateo? I hope she isn’t just hanging out with me hoping he’ll come back. That would suck. “Let me see which one close delivers.” I grab my phone and type in the local restaurant delivery service. It’s a great app that I’ve used countl
ess times while recovering from surgeries and was so glad there was one for this area too.

  “Maybe Chinese or Italian would be better. I’ve just been craving Mexican for so long, but it’s always a disappointment.”

  “Too Americanized?” I laugh.

  “Yeah,” she says. “Unless you’re south of the border, or at least close to it, it’s not the same.”

  “I should take you to meet Mateo’s mom then. Her tamales are to die for.” Shit, why did I bring up Mateo? Now she’s going to be thinking about him and the food she’s craving. Maybe I should take a few cooking lessons from Mrs. Perez.

  At least I won’t have to worry about Mateo cooking for Ellen. He can’t even boil a pot of water. If it isn’t a steak or burger on the grill, he’s lost.

  “Maybe you should.” She grin. “But, that doesn’t solve the issue of tonight’s dinner.”

  I scroll back through my phone naming off the different restaurants.

  “Mama Maria’s, Italian, right?”

  I nod and read her the menu.

  Ellen nearly groans. “I hadn’t realized how hungry I was but just thinking about salad, bread, pasta, some chicken parm and tiramisu makes my mouth water.”

  I’m laughing. “Is that your order?”

  She bites her upper lip before speaking. “I know it’s a lot, but the leftovers will be just as good. They always are.”

  Ellen could order the entire menu if she wants. As long as she stays here and doesn’t ask about Mateo.

  I grab a pen and pad of paper off the table and write down our orders before calling it in.

  “What about Mateo?” She asks with concern.

  I wish she’d forget about my friend. “Who knows when he’ll get back, but I’ll order him something just in case.” And hope he doesn’t have a chance to eat it before breakfast.

  That’s not exactly fair though. The only reason Mateo would be called back to the school is because a kid’s in crisis. Those kids have had enough issues in their lives and I hate that they’re still dealing with the fallout of memories, panic attacks, anxiety or whatever is happening right now that they need Mateo.