“—ENOUGH, Silas. I said not here.”
I raise my voice enough that others look in my direction. He takes that moment to lean forward so there’s only a slight space between us and whispers, “you can’t ignore me forever.”
Watch me.
A slight knock on the doorframe startles me back into the present. I glance up and see Jasper waiting for me, a concerned look on his face.
“Mr. Dillion.” I turn my body toward his, trying to signal to Silas the conversation was over. If I had an audience before, I really did now. I could practically hear the whispers going off around me and fully anticipated another visit from Tracey because of it. Jasper was, by far, one of the best-looking humans I’d ever seen in my life, and on top of that, he legitimately loved his job as a teacher and had become my closest friend since moving to Providence. I knew a good percentage of the high school girls had a massive crush on him. I daily thought I wished Lavender lived here so she could meet him. They were the perfect match.
I turn to Silas. “We will speak later.”
“Of course,” he mutters. And before he walks away, he twists to pull his backpack around and lifts a stack of papers out of the side pocket. He hands them to me, his fingers brushing against my own as he does. I feel the sticky note and once more swallow the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I grip the papers in my hand tighter so I don’t drop them on the floor in front of me. I stand there frozen for a moment as Jasper walks up to me.
“Are you okay? That looked intense.”
I nod then, allowing myself to breathe through the waves of panic.
“I’m fine.” I wave it off but inside I’m shaking. “He is, as you so eloquently put it, intense — especially when it comes to him being denied an extension on the capstone project.” I roll my eyes and Jasper chuckles a bit before leaning on one of the desks next to him.
“Your lack of planning doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part? Or something like that?” he says. I laugh and nod.
“Exactly!”
I suck my teeth and make a sound of agreement before turning the conversation away from Silas.
“Have you seen Madeline?”
His eyes brighten with recognition.
“Yeah! I just ran into her in the hallway. She said you needed the budget for the gala?”
I look at him and smile, “Yes. She’s concerned about the budget for the gala and the fact that we haven’t managed to find anyone to sponsor the event. Is this normal?”
He crosses his arms across his chest and squints to think.
“I didn’t work on it last year, but I do remember hearing rumbles from students and staff about difficulty in getting the community to rally.”
He glances at me and shrugs.
“It’s hard to convince local businesses we need help when so many parents are rolling in cash here.”
I blink.
“So can we use them?”
“Who, businesses? Well….like I said —“
“No. Not businesses. Parents. If families are so well off here, it makes sense to utilize the deep pockets, right? Colleges and universities do it all the time?”
He processes the thought for a moment before a small smile starts to play at his lips.
“Why haven’t we thought of this before?! You’re brilliant, you know that? ”
I curtsy playfully and fake toss my hair.
“So I’ve been told.”
He checks his watch and stands up, stretching his back before waving at a student who just walked in right before the bell.
“Let’s see if we can write something up and present it to the board. It might take some adjustments on our end, but nothing we can’t handle. And we still have time. Do you want to meet at our place off Wayland? With the cappuccinos?”
Our place.
I know students picked up that phrasing and will run with it, despite it being the very definition of innocent. Our place is the local coffee shop where we would meet weekly when he was going through a really difficult breakup in the fall. I avoid glancing at wandering eyes and give him a smile.
“That’s perfect.”
“Alright then. I’ll see you around four — I have study hall last period of the day and can leave a little early and find us a table.”
He turns to leave, high fiving one of my students on his way out. I follow behind him just so I can close the door and when I do, I hear the low hum of hormonal assumptions directed toward me. I smile at the class.
“Nate?”
The tall drummer in the corner who is leaning forward and laughing with the girl sitting in front of him falls back into his seat, jerking his head toward me.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Well if you have something funny to say to Brooklyn, don’t you think the rest of us want to share in the humor?”
His eyes go wide for a moment.
“Um.”
Brooklyn looks at him, sizing him up and realizing he’s not as brave or bad-ass as she originally thought. She rolls her eyes and turns her attention to me, wrapping a strand of hair around her finger.
“Is Jasper, like, your boyfriend now?”
There it is.
I shake my head.
“Mr. Dillion is not — we are working together on the gala. You can rest easy — there is no salacious gossip waiting for you here.”
Brooklyn looks at me and raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.
I return her gaze, refusing to flinch.
“If you were listening to our conversation rather than building assumptions around it you would already know that — but of course, that’s entirely beside the point of why you guys are here, sitting in my classroom, waiting with bated breath over Thales of Miletus. There’s a real controversy for you. Everyone believes Pythagorus created the Pythagorean theorem, but in actuality, it was our friend Thales.”
I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I ignore it, walking toward the white board and grabbing a marker. I turn to look at the students and am happy to see that most of them have paused their gossip — for now.
“Veronica. Why don’t you come up here and show us the steps to the Pythagorean theorem.” I hold out the marker in front of me, waiting for her to get up out of her seat and take it. I’m struck by the blend of watermelon and grapefruit as she passes me and I bite back a smile. The scent of teen years. It’s nice to know some things never change.
I give Veronica some room and find a spot in the corner where I can see the rest of the students and whether they’re paying attention. Slowly, I pull my phone out of my pocket to check to see if the text was from Lavender. I sent her a message this morning and was expecting to hear from her right about now.
A number I don’t recognize shows up in my Message inbox. Confused, I click on it to read the rest of the text.
Why don’t you ever talk to your class about Simon? Is it because you’re waiting for when we can finally be together?
How—how did he get my number?
My hands start to shake and I almost drop my phone. I delete the message without thinking and drop my phone back into my pocket.
Out of sight, out of mind.
A rushing fills my ears — like the sound of ocean waves — and I know my heart rate is sky high. I can feel the pulsing in my chest. I run through all of the ways he could have gotten my personal number and none of them make sense. It was a boundary I put in place quickly when I started here. No texting, no communication, no connection outside of school.
He was crossing every personal and professional boundary I had and I was going to go crazy because of it.
I close my eyes for just a moment and try to root myself in the moment.
I’m in my classroom.
I hear Coach Bilk next door, talking about The Civil War.
Veronica is wearing the same body spray I use to wear in high school.
Jake thinks I can’t see him texting his girlfriend.
He turns and look at me while reaching int
o his pocket — most likely for his cell phone. I shake my head and point my finger at him, letting him know I see what he’s doing, and he rolls his eyes and turns around.
I take a breath.
Veronica catches my gaze and nervously mentions integers and I nod in encouragement, all the while pushing back the feeling of nausea rising up to greet me. The last thing I need is to fall apart. She smiles and breathes more confidently, turning to continue in her explanation.
I take another breath.
Somewhere in my center, in between my gut and my ribcage, I feel a knowing burst forth. It’s time. I can’t keep doing this. I lift my chin and stretch my shoulders to their full width. First step: coffee with Jasper tonight, but soon? I need to see Principal Stahl. I would stop by during my planning period and see if he has any free time tomorrow. Maybe I could even stop by tomorrow morning unannounced — I know he gets here early like me, both of us in our respective offices and classrooms trying to get stuff done before the cacophony of the day took over. I take a third breath, and this time I feel sinewy and open — hopeful.
24
I walk into the small bistro later that day, slowly inhaling the scent of freshly ground coffee and baked goods. I spot Jasper across the dining room and give a small wave to the barista behind the counter as I make my way through the tables.
“Hey.”
He glances up and offers a smile before motioning to the chair across from him. He snagged a window spot, and I’m grateful. I immediately start watching the people passing by and notice the way spring is starting to make its way into people’s bones. We’re not bundled as much as we were even a week ago. It gives me hope.
Jasper leans back in his chair, crossing his arms against his chest. A smirk crosses his lips and I once again think about just how perfect he would be for Lavender.
“So we’re aiming to fleece the pockets of the parents. Did I understand our conversation correctly?”
I laugh and scratch at an itch on my cheek, looking around the dining room for the first time. I catch Jasper’s gaze before putting up a finger.
“Hold on. I need caffeine for this conversation.”
He points to the extra mug on the table and the French Press resting against the ledge of the window.
“I got us the bottomless French Press. Please. Take some.”
My eyes widen and I whisper a thank you while reaching for the mug and filling it with piping hot coffee. The scent is amazing and I take a deep breath, letting out the stress of the day. I notice the dregs in his own mug and point to it. “Do you need a refill?”
He raises his hand and shakes his head.
“No. Absolutely not. I have officially reached the age where if I have caffeine after 5pm I will be up all night long and absolutely useless the next day.”
“Sounds like the perfect cycle to me,” I quip, and he laughs.
“Yeah, well. Tell that to my stomach.”
I grimace in solidarity.
“So. Parents.”
His brows lift and he nods.
“Yes. Parents. Our parents at Sacred Heart are not hurting. We have scholarship students, but even their families have a higher-than-average income. I think we were on the right track with seeing where we can utilize that resource.”
“And maybe it’s not even money,” I say. “Maybe we can utilize their connections or actual resources. Like, don’t Marcie’s parents own their own restaurant downtown? Maybe we have built-in catering there?”
His eyes light up and he looks around the table, “I need a pen. We need to write this down.”
“Aren’t you an English teacher? Don’t y’all have pens everywhere?”
“I’m not sixty, Juniper. I have pens, but they’re where pens belong: on my desk.”
I lean over to pull my purse up to grab a pen and pull some paper out as well. “Well, luckily for you, my desk goes everywhere with me.”
I hand over the paper and notice a sticky note on the back. Jasper sees it too.
“Oh. What’s this?”
He pulls it off the piece of paper and I see the handwriting, my blood running cold. I snatch it out of his hand.
“Um, sorry. I just — I need that. It’s important.”
I manage a smile and Jasper stays frozen for a moment before turning his lips downward for a split second and offering a shrug.
“Sure.”
He takes to writing down the ideas, remembering as he’s writing other parents who could potentially volunteer either money or services. I try and stay engaged, but I can’t stop thinking about the corners of the small square piece of paper edging into the fleshy parts of my fingers underneath the desk. I wait for Jasper to put his head down to write a quickly look at the note.
I LIKED THE BLUE SWEATER BETTER.
I look down at my sweater, a bright red cashmere I purchased on a whim because it reminded me of my mom.
“Don’t be afraid to spoil yourselves, girls,” she would say. “This includes reaching for the luxurious fabric rather than the most practical.”
She had about ten cashmere sweaters and Lavender had taken them all because at the time, I couldn’t imagine myself ever wanting to wear them. Then I found this sweater and one that was a mixture of lavender and sky blue and I had to have them both. I remember Lavender and I getting into the biggest argument because of it. She thought I had finally lost my mind, but I knew exactly why I needed these sweaters.
I must make a noise, because Jasper is staring at me when I look up.
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I um….”
I have to get out of this sweater.
“I’ll be right back.”
I get up from the table and rush to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I lean against the sink, trying to catch my breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I remember wearing the blue sweater earlier in the year. I only wore it once to school, because the day I did, Silas commented on it in the hallway and it made me feel uncomfortable. I only wore the red one because I needed an extra layer of comfort today, and it felt as if I had Mom with me. I feel a vibration in my back pocket and reach for my phone, thinking it’s Jasper checking on me.
DOES SIMON KNOW YOU’RE LAUGHING WITH ANOTHER MAN? I CAN TELL HIM. I HAVE HIS NUMBER TOO, YOU KNOW. I KNOW WHERE HE WORKS.
I throw my phone across the bathroom and hear it crash against the wall, tumbling down to the tile. This can’t be happening. I hold back a sob and rip off the sweater, grateful that I had at least thought to wear a crop t-shirt underneath. I close my eyes, willing myself to calm down, knowing I have to go back out there and pretend I am okay, that nothing is wrong, that I just got warm or something, which is why I took off my sweater and my face is red. I pick up my phone, shocked that the screen is still intact. I thought for sure it would be shattered with the force I threw it. I shoot a quick text back to the number.
STOP. CONTACTING. ME.
Leave me alone.
I breathe deep again and look at myself in the mirror, my face blotchy but the tears gone. It looks like I’m just really warm.
That’s what I’ll tell Jasper.
I’m just….warm. Overheated.
He’ll understand.
Right?
.::.
A few weeks later, I’m finally able to talk with Lavender. With her on a work project and me planning for the gala, we haven’t talked in nearly a month. I still haven’t spoken with Principal Stahl, but after sending Silas that text message things have quieted down. At first, I thought he was actually listening to my requests that he stop talking to me, but I haven’t even seen him at school. According to the rumors whispered in the teacher’s lounge, his family travels to China every year, pulling the twins from school for a few weeks.
“They even hire a tutor to come, too.” Another teacher told me. “They don’t want lesson plans or anything — say that her instruction is more than sufficient.” She lifted her hands in air quotes an
d rolled her eyes, laughing.
I widened my own eyes, laughing with her, but the relief was palpable.
A few weeks without Silas. I’ll take it.
Lavender answers her phone and I can hear background noise. Her excitement immediately brings me back to the present and I laugh.
“Hey, Lavender.”
“Juniper!”
“Is it a good time? Do you need to call me back?”
I can hear her walking, her heels clacking on the floor, and slowly the noise begins to fade away.
“Nope. I’m outside now. What’s up? How are you?” A hint of a smile enters her voice. “Simon not staying the night tonight?”
I laugh. “Ha. He has this big project at work and will be late.” I yawn. “It’s why I’m still up, actually.”
I’m sitting on my couch, wrapped in a blanket, my iPad screen still lit from the book I was reading. I shut the case and toss it next to me, snuggling deeper. “I’m fine though,” I lie. “I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing. How are things with Jack?” I turn the interrogation toward her. She’ll know I’m hiding something, but she also won’t be able to resist talking about her love life.
She groans.
“That bitch ass? I don’t wanna talk about it.”
I grimace at her profanity, knowing the anger that simmers beneath it. Whatever happened, it was bad.
“You sure?” I probe.
She sniffs.
“He broke up with me.”
I pause, waiting. I am not surprised. Jack is the douchiest guy I’ve heard about it in a long while. But I hear the pain in Lavender’s voice and I let the silence do the work.
“What happened?”
“Everything, Juniper. Everything. He completely wrecked everything.”
I trace the edges of the blanket, smiling at my sister’s flare for the dramatic. I also wonder how many drinks she’s already had tonight. I look at the clock — 10pm. It’s 7pm on the West Coast, so she’s probably two deep at this point.
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