Troublemaker

by Kayley Loring

  “Not exactly.”

  “Is Miss Stiles?”

  “Not really. We just can’t hang out together for a while. Until the end of the school year.”

  “How long is that?”

  “It’s the end of January now. This semester is over in June. Count it out.”

  He counts out on his fingers. “February, March, April, May, June. That’s forever!”

  “I know. It feels like it. But it’s not.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.”

  “Is Miss Stiles?”

  “No. Nobody’s mad at you.”

  “Are you sad?”

  “Yeah. I am.”

  “I’m mad.”

  “Don’t be mad at Cheyenne.”

  His lower lip is quivering, and I already know the next thing he says is going to break my heart. “I’m mad at me.” He runs off.

  He’ll go to his room and lie facedown on his bed and cry. I’ll order pizza and go sit with him for half an hour until he realizes how hungry he is. We’ll eat in front of the TV, and he won’t want to talk about this anymore. But he’ll still be mad and sad.

  Everyone wants to do what’s best for the students, but what about the one student who cares about this the most?

  ALEX VEGA INSPIRATION JOURNAL – February

  Fuck everything.

  REASONS WHY THIS IS DEFINITELY THE RIGHT THING TO DO – Emilia

  Fuck you, list.

  37

  Alex

  It has been one month since I’ve seen Emilia Stiles in person, or heard her voice, or sent her a sexy text.

  I have three pictures of her on my phone, and I stare at them every day.

  I’m staring at one of them now as I sit on my back porch, finishing my dinner. It’s from New Year’s. When I tiptoed down to the guest room at the crack of dawn and snuck into her bed. Her blonde hair is fanned out around her head on the pillow as she looks back over her shoulder at me. She’s wearing pink and white Hello Kitty pajamas and a tired smile that is welcoming and just a little bit cautious at the same time. But she’s so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at her.

  And it hurts to not look at her.

  Ryder isn’t here, and twilight is the loneliest time of day again.

  I’ve been working on my love story script with my screenwriter, focusing on the third act. The part where everything goes to shit. I can’t say that everything’s shit exactly, for me, but I also can’t say that I haven’t listened to “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake five or ten times. Just to torture myself. I also can’t say that I haven’t watched the end of Cinema Paradiso five or ten times, also for the purpose of torturing myself.

  I don’t look for her when I drop Ryder off or pick him up, and I’m sure she goes out of her way to avoid seeing me around school. But the truth is, separation can somehow make you feel closer to a person sometimes. Longing is an invisible, angsty tether that ties me to Emilia. And it turns out I’m really comfortable being a brooding artist, even when I know who I want and that it’s only a matter of time before I can have her again.

  Although, there is one thing that I really wish I could talk to her about.

  And I just want to kiss those pretty pink lips again.

  I zoom in on her mouth in the photo, and it takes my brain a couple of seconds to convince me that I’m not hallucinating when the image disappears and it says “ES calling” on my phone’s screen.

  I answer as soon as I realize it’s her. “Hi.”

  “Hi…” she says softly.

  Her voice in my ear is all it takes for my heart to convince me that I’m alive again.

  “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Um… I’m calling you as Ryder’s teacher… To talk about Ryder.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ve just noticed that he seems a little…disheartened lately. Have you noticed that?”

  “Yeah. Of course I’ve noticed.”

  “Is there something I should know?”

  Yes. Everything sucks without you. A bright, shining star has collapsed, and we’re in an emotional black hole here without you. Space and time are deformed, and there’s no light. But I can see everything in my past and everything in my future, and it all orbits around you and Ryder.

  I clear my throat and tell her, “Nova came back last week. She left the show because she found out she’s pregnant. And she wants to keep the baby. She’s getting married to this guy she met. A guy who was in China on a business trip.”

  “Oh. Where does he live?”

  “He lives in LA, fortunately. But he wants them to move into his house in Los Feliz. Nova’s been staying there. So Ryder’s staying there when he’s not with me.”

  “So this guy’s house isn’t in my school’s district?”

  “No, but if they actually go through with moving to his place, we’ll just keep my address on file with the school. He doesn’t want to go to a new one.”

  “Good. I mean, that’s one less change to worry about.”

  “It takes about ten minutes to drive to the guy’s house from here, but still.”

  “Yeah. Still.”

  “Anyway, she didn’t tell Ryder or me about any of this until I took him to her house, when she called to tell me she’d just gotten back. She said she wanted to tell us in person. She introduced us to the guy—Patrick—right then. It’s typical Nova. She means well, and I think she’s genuinely surprised that Ryder isn’t thrilled by all of it. He’s just a little confused by all the news and changes. Insecure.”

  “Wow. Of course he is. Poor thing. I mean, I guess it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Did you like the man she’s marrying? Patrick? Is he nice?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. I think he’s a good guy. It’s just that Ryder’s staying with a total stranger in a new place all of a sudden.”

  “And he doesn’t know what will happen when they get married and have a baby.”

  “Yeah. I got Nova to agree to let me have him four nights a week, instead of every other week like we usually do. I tried to convince her to let him stay with me during the week, but it’s not like Nova and Ryder don’t want to see each other. So this is what we’ll do for now, anyway. I don’t know what else I can do, other than let him know I’m always here for him.”

  I would love it if you were always here for him with me is what I want to say.

  She is quiet for a long time, and so am I. If I say any of the things I want to say to her, it would just be manipulative. It would just make her feel worse. And I only ever want to make her feel good.

  On a sigh, she finally says, “I hate not being able to see you.”

  “Me too.”

  “I miss you more than I can say.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are you doing okay?”

  “Just working. A lot. Are things okay with you? At school?”

  “It’s fine. Things are fine.”

  “Miss Farrell isn’t giving you any more trouble?”

  “I mean, I don’t exactly love seeing her stupid pointy face every day, but it’s fine. Things are fine.”

  “Okay.”

  “I hope Ryder will feel better soon. I’m sure he just needs a while to get used to things.”

  “Yeah. He will. He’s with them now. I’ll call to check on him.”

  “Well, I’ll see him in the morning, and I’ll see you…in my dreams.”

  “Bye, Emilia.”

  She makes that little hiccupping sound again. “Bye, Alex.”

  38

  Emilia

  It has been one long week since I spoke to Alex, and I’m hiding in my bedroom, staring at my phone, thinking about calling him again.

  Not about Ryder. About me. About us. About how crazy this situation is. It makes no sense that I’m choosing to not see Alex Vega when the Opposite of Him was at the door just now. A stubborn, cardigan-sporting person who has actually limited me in
life. Alex only ever wanted to help.

  The battery’s about to die, so I plug my phone in. Just as I do, I get an incoming call from Alex Vega. I kneel down on the floor and answer while it’s still plugged in. “Hello?”

  “Hi.” He does not sound happy. “Have you seen Ryder, by any chance?”

  “Today? No.” It’s Saturday. “Oh no—what’s wrong?”

  I can hear him scrubbing his stubbled face with the palm of his hand. He’s stressed. “He was at Cheyenne’s house for a playdate, and he left before Nova went to pick him up. He’s supposed to stay with her tonight, and I’m guessing he didn’t want to. Cheyenne isn’t saying where he went. She might not know. Her house isn’t far from yours, so I thought maybe he went to see you.”

  “Well, when did he leave?”

  “I don’t know. Nova just got there and called me, freaking out. I gotta make a few calls. I just can’t believe he didn’t call me.”

  “Does he have a phone?”

  “No. He’s seven.”

  “Right. I can call everyone in my class if you want me to. What can I do?”

  “I’ll call a few people and call you back.”

  He hangs up.

  I feel sick.

  I feel responsible somehow.

  Franklin walks down the hall and stops by my room. “Is there someone at the door? I heard a guy talking.”

  I groan. “It was Brent. I told him to leave. Is he still there?”

  “Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me?” Franklin rolls up his silk Dolce and Gabbana shirt sleeves. I don’t know if anyone has ever been intimidated by a beautiful man with perfectly sculpted eyebrows in a silk shirt, but he’s about as angry as I’ve ever seen him. “Not on my property. No way.” He marches to the front door, and I follow him.

  We find Brent on the bottom step of the porch, looking at his phone.

  He is startled by the way Franklin opens the door and stomps out, but when he sees us, he just smirks. “Good,” he says to me. “I was about to call you.”

  “Were you talking to someone?” I ask.

  He waves his hand dismissively. “Some kid. I asked him what he was doing here, and he said ‘who the hell are you?’ I was like, ‘I’m Emilia’s boyfriend. Who the hell are you?’ And he got this weird look on his face and ran off.”

  I slap my forehead. “He ran off? Was he with anyone?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Did you see which way he went?”

  “That way, I guess.” He gestures vaguely in one direction. “Are you coming to lunch with me? You aren’t going like that, are you?” He eyes my jeans and sweater.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I get up in his face as I head for the front gate. “I love that little boy, and he is the son of the man I love, you asshole. I never want to see you again.” I mutter one last “Fuck you, Brent” so I don’t disturb the neighbors and speed-walk down the street, calling out Ryder’s name.

  I hear Franklin yelling, “Get off my property, or I will call the police. Actually, I’m calling the fashion police right now, beige pants!”

  “You’re the one wearing pajamas.”

  “Oh, hell no, you didn’t!”

  I look over my shoulder and see Brent heading for his car.

  “I’ll stay here in case he comes back, Em!” Franklin calls out.

  The poor little guy. All this talk about doing what’s best for my students, but what about what’s best for one of my students? My favorite student. There, I said it.

  I’ve been living in fear of Atticus running away ever since I adopted him, but he never has. This is just as scary, maybe more so. It sounds like my heart is actually beating in my eardrums, and I’m pretty sure I could lift a truck if I had to. There are so many things I’ve been afraid of in my life, and they were all just imagined concepts. If Ryder ran away and got lost or…worse—I don’t even want to think about it. If I’m panicking this much, what about his poor parents? It isn’t until I’m two blocks from my house that I realize I don’t have my phone on me and I should be calling Alex. But it’s also at this moment that I have an idea of where Ryder might have gone.

  I turn the corner and jog toward the library, turning my head and checking every front yard and doorstep of every house that I pass. The library is on the corner of a pretty busy street, but he wouldn’t have to cross it to get there. I keep whispering his name as a prayer as I reach the entrance.

  Please be here. If you’re here, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll take out an ad on a billboard telling everyone that I love you and your dad if you need me to.

  I step inside and call out, “Ryder?”

  Yeah. I forgot that it’s a library. Sue me. This one has high ceilings, so my voice echoes. Everyone turns to look at me, but I don’t see the adorable little face that I’m desperately searching for.

  “Miss Stiles?”

  I follow the trembling voice to the edge of the children’s books section. Ryder’s standing there, holding a Dr. Seuss book, and I immediately burst into tears. I go to him, mouthing an apology to the ladies at the front desk.

  “Ryder,” I whisper. I kneel down and hug him so tight, he probably can’t breathe.

  “Did you bring Atticus?” he asks before I let go.

  “No, he’s at home. I heard you were at my house and just started running around to look for you.”

  A woman and her two children step around us to get into the aisle, so I take Ryder’s hand and lead him to a seating area. I sit down and pull him onto my lap. I wouldn’t normally do this, but I don’t want to let go of him.

  “Ryder. You can’t run away like that. Your parents are so worried.”

  He slow blinks at me, pouting. “You have another boyfriend?”

  “No. No!” I whisper, louder than I probably should. “He used to be my boyfriend, before I moved to Los Angeles. He was not supposed to be at my house, and I told him to leave. I’m so sorry he said that to you. I promise it’s not true.”

  Ryder lifts the book to his nose and sniffs the cover. “I guess it makes me feel better.”

  I muss up his hair. “How did you find your way to my house?”

  He inhales the pages of the book before answering. “Cheyenne found your address because her mom had your phone number. We looked it up on Google Maps on her mom’s computer, and she told me which way to go.”

  “Well, that is very impressive, but you can’t do this again. Do you understand? You can’t go places without telling your parents, and you can’t go places without them. What if something had happened to you?”

  He shrugs, his lower lip quivering. “Everything’s changing, and everyone’s busy. It’s my fault you can’t be with my dad, and I wish we could all just watch movies and eat pizza again.”

  I kiss his cheek. “I have missed hanging out with you too. It’s not your fault at all, Ryder. It’s my fault. I should have thought about how it would affect you. And you need to understand that we all love you. Your parents and me. That’s never changed, and it’s not going to. Even when your mom has a new husband and you have a new brother or sister. Okay?”

  He nods.

  “And if you’re ever sad or angry or confused, you can just talk to us. Anytime. About any of it.” I hug him again and then look around. “You know what—I have to call your dad and tell him I found you.”

  I take Ryder’s hand again and lead him to the front desk. Just as I’m about to ask a lady if I can use a phone, I hear Ryder say, “Hi, Dad.”

  I spin around to find Alex Vega, looking more stressed out than I could ever imagine, his hair all messed up. But still hot.

  “Ryder.” I hear him swear under his breath as he grabs him and picks him up. “Don’t ever do this again. Ever, ever.”

  “How’d you find me?”

  “I remembered what Emilia told you about going to the library when she was a kid.” He looks over at me. “I probably shouldn’t have left the house, but I just had a feeling you’d be he
re.”

  The lady at the front desk puts her index finger to her lips and shushes us, smiling. I take the old Dr. Seuss book from Ryder and place it on the counter in front of her. Alex takes my hand and carries Ryder out the front doors.

  “You can’t run off like that, Ryder. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Miss Stiles told me.”

  “You know what, I think you can call me Emilia when we’re not at school. As long as you remember to call me Miss Stiles when we’re in school. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I think he’s attempting to wink at me, but he just scrunches up his face while blinking.

  I put my hand on his face, and I can’t stop myself from saying, “I love you.” I say it to Ryder and to Alex.

  Ryder blushes and looks away, grinning. But I have no regrets.

  Alex lets Ryder slide down the side of him, but we both take one of his hands. This little bugger isn’t getting away from us anytime soon.

  All the stress has disappeared from Alex’s face. He is smiling and clearly as relieved as I am. He leans over his son to give me a kiss. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Can we get Atticus and then get gelato and then go to the dog park and then go home and have pizza and watch movies?”

  “Yes,” Alex and I answer at the same time.

  He nods toward his parked car. “Shall we?” He holds his free hand out to me, and I take it, letting go of Ryder’s.

  Someone from my school could very well see us, and if they do—fuck ’em.

  It’s a lovely late winter day. February might end up being my favorite month in LA after all. And I’m determined to love every month up until June too.

  39

  Emilia

  I stare at the big clock on the wall. Three twenty-five. My meeting with Mrs. Woodard is in five minutes. I finish stapling tomorrow’s printouts and put them in their proper folders, hands trembling as I take a calming breath.

  On Sunday, Alex helped me decide on what to say to my principal. I’m going to tell her that we’re dating. Alex kept offering to come with me, which was so sweet of him, but I need to do this myself. I stand up, smoothing my hair and my cardigan, and pull my purse out from a desk drawer, when I hear a knock at the door.