by Kelly, A. S.
“Probably just to speed things along. Scientific subjects aren’t easy, and you’re already studying to make up for everything else, too…” I say, cautiously, hoping not to find myself on the receiving end of an open-fire of insults.
“He’s only the year above me.”
“Who?”
“The loser who’s tutoring me.”
“Ahh… Well, if he’s a nerd…”
She scoffs again, but finally relaxes back into the seat. Maybe I’ve been let off lightly, this time.
“So how is it going to work?” I ask, as we’re pulling into my parents’ driveway.
We climb out of the car; this time, there are no slamming doors.
That’s already an improvement.
“After school, three times a week. Either here at home, or at the school library.”
“Who decided that?”
“The headmistress. She obviously thinks I’m stupid.”
“I don’t think that Jor…the headmistress,” I say, quickly correcting myself, “thinks you’re stupid at all. Otherwise she wouldn’t have suggested you study two years’ worth of work in one. Did you ask her anything else? Maybe an explanation?”
“I couldn’t. She had another meeting.”
“Oh.” I swallow my pride, feeling it sink heavily into my stomach. “With who?”
“Your friend. What’s his name, again?”
I freeze at the doorway as my daughter walks past me, tossing her backpack onto the living room floor. I follow her, pick it up and hand it back to her, reminding her silently – for the thousandth time – that she needs to take it up to her room. Then I decide to plunge the knife in even further.
“Tyler?”
“Yeah, him.”
She grabs the bag from my hand and chucks it onto the sofa.
At least it’s not the floor.
“What did he want?”
My daughter looks at me.
“What’s with all the questions?”
“What questions? We’re just chatting, aren’t we? A conversation needs questions and answers. I’ve asked you something, so you respond.”
“You’ve asked loads, Kerry. All about the same thing.”
“That’s not true.”
“Who are you talking about?” My sister’s voice makes us both jump.
“What are you doing here?”
“These are my parents, too, Niall. Even though you seem to have the monopoly right now.”
I scoff and sink onto the arm of the sofa. I really did not need to see my sister after the news I’ve just received.
“Kerry’s losing his mind because his friend turned up at school today to speak to the head teacher.”
“Her you respond to? I asked you one simple question, and it didn’t even have anything to do with you.”
“It was plural. I was allowed to respond.”
“Apparently English is your strong point.”
She glares at me.
I should’ve kept quiet.
“Kerry’s having problems with Ms Hill.”
Shit.
“What kind of problems?”
“Nothing.”
“Have you been an arsehole again?”
“What do you mean ‘again’?”
“You didn’t try it on with her, did you?”
“M-me? With th-the headmistress?”
“You’re stammering,” Skylar points out.
Really? I hadn’t noticed.
“You never change, Niall.”
“I haven’t done anything,” I lie, blatantly. “And I’m not interested in her.”
My sister and my daughter exchange a condescending glance. Now that I see them side-by-side, their arms crossed, wearing the same expression, things are starting to make sense.
“So you wouldn’t be upset if I told you that they’re going on a date?”
This time, I have to swallow down something much larger.
“How do you know that?”
“I heard her say they’d see each other soon when he was leaving.”
“How did you hear that?”
“I was in the classroom next door, pretending to talk to that nerd so that I could eavesdrop.”
“What nerd?” Rian asks.
“Later,” I say, batting her question away with my hand. “Do you happen to know when they’re meeting?”
I’m a terrible father. No doubt about it.
“Friday night. For dinner.”
I reach inside myself and grab hold of my last shred of dignity.
“Do you know where?”
Skylar smiles mischievously. “I’ll only tell you if I can come, too.”
Niall
The fact that my elusive friend has chosen a pub like the Old Castle – which is outside of town, away from prying eyes – makes me immediately fear the worst. The way I discovered where they were going doesn’t exactly fill me with pride, seeing as I had to go running to my daughter and her questionable methods; not to mention the fact that I brought that daughter with me to spy on them. I think that actually makes it worse. Oh, and my sister invited herself along, too, to watch my discomfort. Not that I ever mentioned to them how uncomfortable this whole thing makes me – although I think my being here spying on the happy couple speaks for itself, really.
“Can I ask you something?” Rian asks as we’re standing in the shadows outside the pub, trying to peek in through the only window with a view of their table.
“Didn’t I say that you could come along as long as you don’t ask any questions?”
“You’re right,” Rian agrees, before whispering into my daughter’s ear.
“Can I ask you something?” asks Skylar.
I glare at Rian.
“You didn’t make her take a vow of silence.”
True. Only because I was so happy that she actually wanted to do something together.
I feel like more and more of a failure with every fatherly decision.
“Why are we spying on them?”
It’s a simple question; but the response is a little more complicated.
“I don’t know,” I say, honestly. “I don’t like it.”
“Don’t like the fact that your friend is dating Ms Hill?”
“He never said he was interested in her.”
“Why should he have?” Rian blurts out, rolling her eyes at the sight of my piercing gaze.
“I know why,” Skylar announces, triumphantly.
“Fancy sharing that knowledge with me?”
“Why should I?”
“I’m your aunt.”
“Nope. Try again.”
“What do you want in exchange?”
“Hey!” I moan, both of them ignoring me.
“Your red boots. The ones you were wearing the other night.”
“My boots?”
Skylar nods. “I don’t want to wear that shitty brown colour anymore.”
I try unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.
“What are you talking about?”
“Those shitty boots that Granddad wants me to wear when I’m in the field.”
“You go into the field?” Rian asks, surprised.
“There’s fuck all else to do, and I get bored. What am I supposed to do, sit indoors all day?”
I should bring up the fact that she keeps saying shit and fuck, but I let it slide this time. I want to see where she’s going with this.
“But my boots aren’t made for mud. Or rain!”
Skylar shrugs.
“What if they don’t fit?”
“I’m a size 38,” she says. “I’d guess you’re about a 39.”
“She got you there,” I comment, filling with pride, for some unknown reason.
“Fine!” Rian gives in. “I’ll bring them over tomorrow.” She stretches her hand out, and Skylar shakes it.
Wait a moment; did they just make this agreement so that they can stand here and gossip about me?
Fuck.
“Kerry s
lept with the headmistress.”
“What?!” Rian yells.
“I never confirmed it,” I tell Skylar. “You’re the one who’s so convinced.”
“And when did this happen?”
“The first night we got here.”
Rian glares at me.
“It’s not what you think: she initiated it, I promise.”
“Sure. Next you’ll be saying she leapt on top of you and pinned you down.”
Not exactly – but she did leap on top of me, after we’d both given our consent pretty explicitly.
“Well, it can’t have gone that well if she’s here now, with Hayes.”
“That’s different. Can we please not talk about it?”
“But you still have to give us an explanation as to why we’re here.”
“I didn’t ask either of you to come with me. You just tagged along.”
“Look, there’s a table free,” Skylar says, interrupting us. “If we sit there, they won’t be able to see us.”
“Skylar, I don’t think…” But my daughter is already pushing open the pub door, my sister close at her heels.
Perfect. Now I’m uncomfortable and I look like a complete arse.
I quickly catch up with the girls just as my sister is asking the waiter if we can sit at the table she’d spotted. We make ourselves comfortable, in the darkest corner of the room, on the opposite side of the building to them. If we’re lucky, they won’t see us. They seem too close, too intimate, to want to look this way; it doesn’t look like they’ll be moving their eyes from each other anytime soon. Not unless I go over there myself to tear their gazes apart with my bare hands.
Rian and Skylar order a burger each. I don’t mind; given we’re already here, we may as well make the most of it. A drink might even take my mind off seeing them here, together.
“I didn’t think Jordan would be interested,” Rian comments.
“This is Tyler we’re talking about. Okay, so he’s a fireman: I’m sure that could play in his favour. But, still – come on!”
“I was talking about you.”
My daughter bursts into shameless laughter.
“Hey, I can be charming, when I want to be,” I say, clutching at the remaining shards of my pride. “And I have a few hidden talents, too.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Rian mutters sarcastically. “But Jordan’s taste in men is a little different.”
“Are you talking about Steven Hill?”
“He stayed here, where he belonged. He made something good of his life.”
“He also cheated on his wife.”
“I see you’re up-to-date with everything.”
“Doesn’t everyone know about that?”
“Well, yeah. Nothing’s a secret around here.”
“You guys are getting distracted,” Skylar says, drawing our attention back to the task at hand. “Those two seem to be really enjoying themselves.”
I turn suddenly towards their table, where they seem to be getting a little too close. They look happy together; he doesn’t seem to stop talking, while she laughs. Too much.
“Enjoying themselves…” I say through gritted teeth. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“You shouldn’t just sit around and let this happen,” Skylar says. “You should do something.”
I glance at her in surprise.
“Why do you care if your headmistress gets it on with Tyler?”
“I don’t,” she says, tearing her eyes away. “Apart from the fact that she could lose interest in my…situation.”
“Very insightful,” my sister says, lifting her pint towards her in appreciation.
“Well, you got into the school, didn’t you? She’s helping you get everything back on track. What do you think would change?”
Skylar doesn’t respond, limiting herself instead to a disinterested shrug. It’s a gesture as unconvincing as her response.
Maybe this has something to do with the conversation we had a few days ago about her mother – about her loneliness? About the fact that she’s worried about me?
“I don’t think you have a hope in hell with Jordan,” my sister says, my attention falling back onto her. “She’s not right for you.”
“What would you know about who’s right for me?”
“Come on. I read the newspapers.”
I scoff, exhausted. I didn’t think people around here would really believe that bullshit.
“I haven’t been with that many women,” I say, irritated. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of my daughter. “All it took was for me to have one conversation with a woman, and the next day, the media had decided that she was my latest target.”
“Poor you. I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been,” my sister teases.
“Trust me. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
“I honestly don’t care.” She sips at her beer, then lets her gaze wander over to their table again. “Besides, I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s too much for you.”
There was no need for her to say it, really: I have eyes, too.
“And you definitely don’t deserve a woman like that.”
I stay quiet, unable to say anything more, because I’m starting to believe that she’s completely right.
Niall
Tyler and Jordan left the pub around half-past ten. He placed his hand on the small of her back as he was guiding her towards the door, before opening it for her. She smiled at him. When they stepped outside, they didn’t hold hands – but he kept his hand placed against her back at they crossed the road.
We left just after them. I dropped Rian home, and as she got out of the car, she told my daughter she’d pick her up tomorrow and take her to the shopping centre. Then the two of us made our way home. Nobody was downstairs when we got in – they’d probably already gone to bed. Skylar began to climb the stairs, leaving me down here, alone, before changing her mind and turning to face me.
“Maybe you shouldn’t give up so soon.”
“Mmm?”
“You shouldn’t step aside yet.”
“What would you know?” I asked, tiredness overwhelming me.
“Probably nothing. But I don’t think anything’s definite between those two, yet.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
She stood there on the stairs for a few seconds, her eyes resting on me. “If you really like her, you should do something.”
“Like what?”
I didn’t even try to fight it.
“Let her know you like her.”
She turned her back to me and bounded upstairs, as I…well…
I’m actually outside her door, waiting for her to let me in. I’m desperately hoping that she’s not asleep yet, and that she doesn’t slam the door in my face.
Last time I was here, I left as if I didn’t want anything more to do with her. I fed her, wanted her, and made her want me, too. Then I just disappeared, and she didn’t come along to my training session on Thursday. Then, tonight, she went out with Tyler. And I won’t just sit back and accept it.
Why? Well, it’s simple:
“I like you,” I blurt out as soon as she opens the door.
Jordan stands there, shocked. Speechless.
“I sound like a stupid teenager, don’t I? Well, I guess that’s what I am. A sixteen-year-old trapped in a grown man’s body.”
She smiles, her shoulder visibly relaxing.
“I’m not going to stand here and bullshit you, or pretend I’m not interested. I’m not going to make you any promises.”
“Interested?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
“In you.”
“Oh…”
“The only thing I’m going to say is that I like you, Jordan. And not only when you’re on top of me.”
She bit
es her lip, trying to mask another smile.
“I’ll also say that I hated seeing you on a date with Tyler Hayes.”
“How the hell did you know about that?”
“I followed you and spied on you.”
She crosses her arms, one eyebrow raised.
“It felt like a grenade had gone off in my stomach, seeing you there. And I never want to feel like that again.”
“Are you jealous?” she asks in a daze.
And, fuck it: I really think I am. There’s no other explanation for my reaction.
“I don’t want to see you with anyone else.”
“Are you trying to mark your territory?”
“I guess I’m calling dibs.”
“So just because I’ve slept with you, I can’t sleep with Tyler?”
“You can’t sleep with anyone,” I say, without thinking. “I don’t want you to sleep with anyone.”
She scrutinises my expression.
“Just give me until the end of the tournament to prove to you that I’m not as bad as you think I am.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll win, and we can go on our date, like we planned.”
“You’re too confident.”
“You know as well as I do that we’ll win.”
“I’m not talking about the tournament. You’re too confident that I like you.”
“Oh, really?”
“I never told you anything of the sort.”
“True – but you’re still in time to say it.”
“I’m not going to say it.”
“Because you’re too proud to admit it? Or because you don’t want to give me the satisfaction?”
“Have you ever considered the idea that you might just not be my type?”
“No.”
“You’re impossible.”
“That’s not exactly true,” I say. “I’m actually pretty sure already that I’m not your type – but that doesn’t mean that you don’t like me.”
“You’re unravelling your whole argument.”
“I never used to have a type,” I say, babbling freely now. “Despite what everyone thinks of me, I’ve actually never turned up at a woman’s door in the middle of the night and made an idiot of myself after seeing her with someone else.”
“Am I just a challenge for you?”
“No, Jordan. You’re the only thing I think about.”
She drops her arms to her sides, shocked by what I’ve said. I have to admit: I’m pretty shocked, too.