“Have I ever left them hanging? Plus, I don’t think it matters how late I was — last time I checked I still submitted attendance within thefifteen-minute window.”
She sniffs and looks away and I know I caught her by surprise.
“Because I know you’re probably thirsty for the reason why, I needed to handle a small family emergency and was only a few minutes late. My students still got the majority of a period with me, and they all completed their literary practice for our class this week.” I motion to the stack of essays on my desk.
“A family emergency?” She prods, her interest piqued again.
I look her in the eyes. “Simon had all of his tires slashed and his car was keyed.”
Her twists her lips in surprise but can’t hide the smirk. “That’s horrible. I hope he’s okay.”
“He’s fine.”
She leans agains the desk nearest to her and I lean forward, my elbows resting on the desk. I decide now is as good a time as any to ask her about going through my things.
“You know, I’m glad you stopped by. I was going to come find you after I finished this work.” I wait a beat, watching her face. “Did you find what you were looking for earlier?”
She swallows, and I realize she wasn’t expecting me to call her out on coming into my classroom.
“Your students told you.”
“They did.”
She makes a noise of distaste and I cock my head in curiosity.
“You’re mad? Like most people, my students find it weird when someone comes into a classroom and starts rummaging through the papers on a desk that doesn’t belong to them.” I cross my arms. “So again — did you find what you were looking for?”
Her shoulders stiffen and I fight a smile.
“Your attendance was late. I needed it —“
“That’s bullshit Tracey and you know it.”
Her eyes widen in shock.
“We submit attendance online and I submitted attendance within thefifteen-minute window. You came in before that — probably even before the tardy bell.” I notice a flush spreading across her neck and I know I’m getting to her. I feel the instability of this morning coming to the surface again and let myself ride the wave.
“I don’t have any copy of my roster in paper form. And you weren’t looking for attendance. You were looking in my planner. Again: were you looking for something specific?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters.
I stand then, walking toward her. She stutters backward, and I can feel the intimidation vibrating off of her.
Good.
“But it does matter. It matters because you walked in here, knowing I wasn’t going to be here, and decided to go through my personal things in order to find something clearly incriminating.”
She starts shaking her head and I raise my eyebrows.
“No? You weren’t trying to find something that would prove I was having a relationship with one of my students? You thought you would find something, didn’t you?”
She starts stammering and I roll my eyes.
“You’re really something, Tracey. You’ve had it in for me from the very beginning, when I was trying to help you in any way I could. And now this. Refusing to believe me. Determined to find dirt where there is none. What if I showed you the texts of Silas admitting he’s been watching me? What if I showed you the threats he’s made against my boyfriend? Would you believe me then?”
I am breathing heavy now, gesturing wildly as she flinches with every word.
“Juniper—“
“No. No, you can’t take it back now. It’s done. Fuck, Tracey. How hard is it to believe someone when they tell you things?”
I raise my hands to my forehead as if I’m trying to figure out a problem.
“I wonder what Principal Stahl would think about all of this? You’re so close to him and seem know things.” I snap my fingers. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe you’re projecting your obvious feelings for Stahl in what would be an invisible relationship between me and a student.”
She steps back then, shaking her head.
“Juniper — you can’t….”
“I wonder what he would think about you having access to private information because you were putting your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
“Private information shouldn’t be on your desk.” She shrugs, and I can see the desperation on her face. I’ve hit on a truth I wasn’t even trying to find.
“Neither should you.” I step closer to her, feeling myself break apart from earlier. “And that’s the whole fucking point.”
She gasps then, the shock radiating off of her in waves.
“Ms.. Reese!”
I turn around, ignoring her, and walk back to my desk.
“I’m done, Tracey. You can see yourself out. Go find Stahl.” I glance back at her and wait until she looks at me before studying her closely. “At least now I know why you’ve been so obsessed with what I’m doing with my free time.” I smile. “Don’t worry. Unlike you, your secret is safe with me.”
She takes a deep breath.
“Juniper. There’s nothing between Stahl and me.”
“Sure.”
“You can’t say anything.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I mean it. No one can know.”
I look at her again. “I understand, Tracey. But you need to understand something — owning your shit is so much better than looking for everyone else’s.”
Her hands clasp in front of her and I realize I’ve never seen her this docile before — she’s always over posturing, always forcing herself on to other people. I’m enjoying the change in demeanor. She starts to turn to leave.
“Oh, and Tracey?”
She looks over her shoulder at me and I notice for the first time there are tears brimming, ready to fall. She tries to wipe them without me noticing but it’s too late.
I say nothing, and lean forward in my desk again, making sure she’s paying attention.
“Don’t ever come into my classroom again.”
She stands there for a split second, unsure of what to do, and sputters something about needing to ask the librarian a question before she leaves.
I smile at her and nod. “Sounds good.”
She turns around then and before she can leave my classroom I call after her, “have a great day!” I can’t help but laugh under my breath at the way her shoulders stiffen all over again and it’s only after she’s been gone for a few minutes that I allow the revelation of her and Stahl to sink into my bones and I shake my head in disbelief.
This school.
The layers of dysfunction is a fucking onion. My phone vibrates then, and when I look down at the screen, I see Simon is calling again. I answer the phone.
“Hey. Are you on your way home?”
I hear a buzzing in the background and realize he’s not in the car but somewhere else. I try to figure out what I’m hearing when I hear a familiar beep and my spine turns into ice.
“Simon. Where are you?”
“Before I say anything, I need you to know I’m okay.”
I close my eyes and let my head fall to my desk.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“I might need you to pick me up from the hospital.”
I grow quiet, unwilling to accept the words I’m hearing.
“What?”
“I’m in the hospital. I’m fine.”
Even though I knew he was going to say this, it’s still a punch to the gut when I hear it. I clear my throat, trying to clear the tears that are tangling themselves in a knot.
“It was that damn curve on the way to Providence. Do you know which one I’m talking about?”
I nod before realizing I’m talking to him on the phone and he can’t see me.
“Yeah — yeah I know.”
“It was the weirdest thing. The driver was going the speed limit, totally safe and paying attention — we weren’t even talking. And then
out of nowhere this car comes into our lane and we end up swerving off the road and hit the barrier.”
“Ohmigod.”
“I’m okay, Juniper. I promise. They just had to check us out because it was a pretty rough crash but I’m fine. I’m waiting to be seen right now.”
“Is everyone else okay?”
“My driver is, but I don’t know about the other guy — I’m guessing he’s fine. He never actually hit us and he actually left the scene. I don’t even know if he realizes we wrecked?”
My fingers clutch the phone automatically and I feel the pressure in my knuckles.
“The other driver kept…driving? He left the scene?”
“Yeah. It’s unfortunate. No one caught a license plate, either. The road was pretty empty when it happened, so there were no witnesses.”
I breathe out a deep sigh and Simon laughs quietly.
“It’s been a hell of a day, right?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. There’s a thought I’m trying to chase in my brain — just out of reach. Something important. Something I need to know. Simon keeps talking.
“We were so lucky though, Juni,” I key into him using my nickname because he so rarely uses it, knowing it was something my mom used to call me. My attention falls back to him and the thought I’m chasing disappears into the background.
“I’m so grateful fo the driver, honestly. If he would have swerved like two seconds later, we would have gone off that cliff. We were so close.”
I shake my head, unwilling to let that image stay.
I feel a vibration and I pull the phone away from my ear to check the screen. It’s a text from Silas. The tears caught in my throat come free then, and I tap on the message to see what it says.
NEXT TIME I MAKE SURE HE DISAPPEARS FOR GOOD.
I run my tongue against my teeth and nod again, closing my eyes. An understanding settles deep in my gut then and I know what I need to do next. Simon must hear how ragged my breathing is and he starts to try and comfort me again, but I hear nothing. I hear nothing because the thought I’ve been trying to chase cuts through and makes itself known: Silas wasn’t at school today.
He wasn’t at school because he was making good on his threat of trying to kill Simon and he almost succeeded.
Fuck.
I hang up on Simon, knowing he’ll wonder what’s wrong, but I am unable to engage anymore. I look around my classroom, expecting some type of familiarity, but everything feels foreign. Even my own skin. I choke back a sob.
The bomb just detonated, and I know now Silas has won.
30
It’s chilly on the beach, and I’m glad I thought to bring my sweater from the backseat of my car. I wrap it around me tighter, feeling the way the fabric brushes against my fingers. It’s comforting.
My head rotates back and forth, expectant. My fingers move from the sweater and start drumming a rhythm on my arms. I’m nervous. No — terrified. I don’t have long to do this. Simon is still at the hospital, waiting for me to pick him up. I check my watch and note the time. I have less than 20 minutes before I need to leave.
I may go down, but I will go down fighting.
I texted Silas to meet me here. I’m not entirely sure what possessed me in the moment, but I knew after hanging up on Simon that I had to do something. I needed to speak with him directly. I was tired — am tired — of the texts and threats. I straighten my spine and roll my shoulders again, the stress knotting itself into hard pressure points. When this is over, I am going to need a lifetime of massage therapy.
Now that I’m standing here, watching the waves, completely alone and vulnerable, I’m questioning my decision. I shuffle my feet a bit and feel the coolness of the sand between my toes. I took off my shoes at the car, unwilling to attempt to walk in heels. Plus, if I am honest with myself, I want to be able to make a quick get away.
I breathe once, a deep inhale through my nose, and let everything out through my mouth. I imagine Silas watching me, waiting for the perfect time to make himself known, enjoying the opportunity to once again be the one controlling the situation.
I close my eyes and shake my head, getting the image out of my head.
I might be going crazy.
I glance to the right again, watching the fishermen who set up camp for the next few hours. Their laughter echoes across the shore and I manage a small smile, thinking of easier times. At least there are other people here. I walk to the water and look out into the expanse, sending a message out into the universe.
I need you right now, Mom.
I watch the waves crash and notice a starfish by my feet. I pause for a beat, letting the sign wash over me. I lean down to pick it up and throw it back into the sea, remembering something about starfish signaling love or motherhood or something. I whisper another plea for strength, letting the waves baptize my feet, and find my place back away from the water. I hear my mom’s voice coming up from inside of me, a soft whisper of recognition.
And so it is.
I feel as if I can breathe normally again. The tide is coming in and the spot I claimed is now being kissed by the waves, but I don’t move. I wait, knowing any minute he’ll show up out of nowhere. It doesn’t take long. I see his form, walking toward me, a smile on his lips. When he gets close enough, he leans in as if to hug me, and I step back, the sand almost making me lose my balance. I steady myself and place my hand up in front of me.
This is what I was afraid of happening.
“Silas, wait.”
He cocks his head, the smile unwavering.
“The wind has made your hair absolutely wild.” He laughs and takes a strand in between his fingers. “It’s absolutely beautiful. You are beautiful.”
I move my head away from his grasp and raise an eyebrow.
“That’s not why we’re here. I need you need to stop.”
He reaches for me and I back away again, my hand moving further in front of me. Confusion begins to etch its way across his face but he keeps trying.
“Silas.”
He looks at me and laughs, any doubt washing away with his persistence.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, Juniper! You don’t have to say anything. I already know.”
“But you really don’t.”
He starts nodding his head vigorously.
“I do. We’re meant to be together. I know you know that. I know that’s why you texted me to show up here. It was what I did with Simon, wasn’t it? That convinced you? I knew it would….” his eyes are bright and I realize just how much he believes the words he is saying. I look at him in shock.
“You bastard.”
He flinches and then shakes his head.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“But—“
“You almost killed Simon.”
His smile broadens and this time, there’s a hardness to it. “But you know now, don’t you?” His voice turns menacing. “You know what I would do for you. I would do anything!”
I look at him, my hands moving up to my sweater, wrapping it closer to my skin. I don’t feel safe here. I shouldn’t have come. I swallow and straighten myself as much as I can, relying on the calm exterior to stay solid —
Don’t crack. Not now. Not here.
I look at him again, and see ownership in his gaze. This makes me feel brazen and firm and I let the anger course through me so he can feel it.
“You have to stop.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to speak and then looks at me, confused all over again.
“What?”
“You have to stop, Silas.” I karate chop my hand into my palm, emphasizing my point. “Stop texting me. Stop leaving me notes. Stop threatening my boyfriend. It’s not okay.” I motion between us. “This is not okay.”
“But we’re meant to be together. I know you know—“
“—but that’s just it, Silas.” A laugh escapes my mouth and he frowns. I don’t care. “We’re not. We’re not meant
to be together. We’ve never been meant to be together. You’re my student.”
“I’m 19.”
“That doesn’t change things.”
“I love you.”
“You’re obsessed with me. There’s a difference.”
I notice the hardening of his posture and I wrap my hand around my neck, feeling the threat. I give a quick glance around me, looking for the fishermen from earlier. I remind myself that I chose this spot on purpose, that there are people present. I knew this much. I thought this much in advance to protect myself.
He can’t do anything to you, Juniper. Not here.
“I will have you,” he grits out between his teeth, leaning closer to me. I startle, his presence shocking after our constant dance during the conversation. I push him away.
“Not if I can help it, Silas.” My words are soft — gentle. They fall on his shoulders and I see the impact they have on him as tears start to fall from his eyes. He wipes them away, scoffing at the wetness they leave behind on his fingers.
“You’re making a mistake,” he begs. He’s two seconds away from getting on his knees and pulling on my dress. I step away again and he reaches toward me, grabbing my arm. I gasp at the strength and wince, trying to pull myself away.
“Let me go, Silas.” I bite back the tears of fear, and wait for him to listen. Slowly, he loosens his grip, but not before running his fingers down my arm. I shudder and he smiles, seeing it as encouragement. He whips his hand back up, placing it behind my neck.
“You see?” He shivers and whispers closely in my ear. My hands shake and I close my eyes, willing this conversation to be over.
“I do something to you. You do something to me, too. Can you feel it?”
My breath hitches and I push him away all over again. This time, he’s not expecting it and he stumbles backward, looking at me with a wounded expression.
“Don’t ever touch me again.” I raise my voice enough so that a few people, including the fishermen, turn around and watch me. “Do you hear me? Do you understand?” I point to him. “Whatever you’re doing, whatever you’re planning — it’s over.” I look him in the eyes, my voice lowering. This next part is only for him.
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