The classroom door swings open, and I turn from the whiteboard to see Sunny sauntering in like she owns the place. She’s been a terror for the past few weeks, showing up every afternoon to either ask a question or beg for help on her homework. I’ve tried ignoring her, tried making excuses, but nothing—absolutely nothing—can deter this young woman. She is hell-bent on making my life miserable. Too bad she doesn’t know she’s not the first female to succeed at that.
The moment I said goodbye to Isabella at the Halloween party, I knew she’d run from me. It was nothing she did or even said, just the same hollow look in her eyes I’d seen all the other times I’ve been around her. It sure as hell was different from the woman who looked at me in the kitchen. The woman whose eyes begged for all the things I wanted to give her. Damn, talk about being turned inside out. I sure as hell was that night, and I’ve been the same every day since then.
At first the unanswered texts worried me. When one day turned into three and three turned into seven and still she avoided me, I got pissed. And I’ve been pissed ever since, which doesn’t exactly make me teacher of the year. I know my students have picked up on my bad attitude, which further inflames the anger that I somehow attempt to temper at work. Not Sunny, mind you. She’s so fixated on me in other ways, she fails to notice that my patience with her runs thinner than ever.
“Hey, Mr. Austin.” Her eyes roll over my body, and I swallow back the urge to puke. “I like that shirt.”
“What do you want, Sunny? I’m busy.”
She lifts one over-plucked eyebrow and props her skinny hip up on the edge of the desk. “Just wanted to tell you that I’ll miss you. You know, since school will be closed for a week.”
Nausea scurries up my throat. “Enjoy your Thanksgiving, Sunny.”
She blinks repeatedly, which I assume is her way of trying to look innocent. “Do you have plans for the holiday?”
Lie. Just lie. “Yeah, I do. With my girlfriend.”
Sunny barely misses a beat. “We should get together. Have coffee. Or something.” She leaves the dare hanging out there like a noose to hang myself.
Strolling toward the door, I prop it open and stand against it, arms folded across my chest. “Good bye, Sunny. Have a nice holiday.”
She moves toward me, a smirk in place as she scrapes her nails down my arm. “You’re cute when you play hard to get.” Giggling, she shimmies her ass and strolls off down the hall.
Slamming the door a bit too loudly, I growl out a curse and attempt to curb the urge to throw something. I’ve had enough of this crap. I’m beyond sick and tired of being made to feel like an object, especially by a girl as young as she is. It is ridiculous that I have to put up with this day in and day out. I just wish I knew how to handle it. Complaining to the principal will probably get me nowhere, but I at least have to give it a shot. It’s the typical “he said, she said” bullshit, and because I’m the new guy here—and the youngest teacher—chances are I’ll be shooting myself in the foot by seeking out his council. Still, the thought of dealing with her—with this for the remaining months of the school year is simply something I’m not willing to do.
I’m just hanging up with the principal’s secretary after making an appointment to discuss the matter when we get back from holiday break when Emmy strolls into the classroom. She takes one look at my face and hurries across the room to where I’m standing. “Are you okay, Uncle Jace? What’s the matter?”
Shaking off the anger, I force a smile. “Nothing. How was your day?”
She frowns and drops her backpack to the floor. “Nice try. Was Sunny here again?” I remain silent, reminding myself that I’m the adult, the teacher, and certain things shouldn’t be discussed even if she and I are semi-related. “I know you’re upset, Uncle Jace. How can I help?”
Damn, I love this kid. “You can tell me how your day was.”
I get one of those looks that tells me she’s not finished discussing this. “It was fine. Did Mom text you?”
I’ve avoided my phone all day in the hopes that maybe if I don’t stare at it constantly, I won’t wonder about Isabella. “No. What’s up?”
“My car is in the shop getting new tires and some other stuff. She wondered if you could give me a ride home. She’s got a late meeting and Dad is tied up at the construction site.”
“Of course. I need to finish up some things first.”
She slides behind a desk in the front row and opens her backpack. “That’s cool. I’ve got stuff to work on.”
An hour later we’re walking out to the Jeep, and she’s regaling me with a story like she always does. Emmy has this great way about her that instantly makes you forget all the shit going on in your own head. She’s so full of life and energy, so positive and tough. If I ever have a daughter, I want her to be just like Em.
Makes me wish that Isabella could be like this. Happy, free-spirited, not weighted down by whatever it is she carries with her. I’ve seen a spark here and there of the spunky woman underneath the layers of iron and ice, but it’s almost as if she believes she’s not entitled to be happy.
What the hell happened to her? Was it a messy breakup, a broken heart perhaps? Somehow, I doubt she’d be this skittish just because she and her ex parted ways. She’s made of tougher stuff than that.
I should just let it go. She’s clearly not ready or willing to get involved, and considering all the shit I’m dealing with at school, it’s not exactly a great time for me either. Besides, I think as I turn into the Moran’s driveway, she and I are going to have to learn to coexist peacefully. It’s not like we can walk away and never see one another again. And really, other than a few conversations and some groping, we didn’t exactly have a relationship. Hell, we barely had a friendship.
“You got your house key?” I ask as I escort Emmy to the front door.
She digs around in the front pocket of her backpack, nodding. “Uh-huh. It’s in here somewhere.”
Just then, Roman’s big black Ford truck pulls in behind my Jeep. As Emmy rushes to hug her father, an odd feeling of jealousy swarms me. How stupid. I step down off the porch and reach out to shake his hand. When have I ever felt the need to be a father? Sure, I suppose I’d like to be a dad someday when the timing is right and I’ve found that one special lady to spend the rest of my life with. I’m in no hurry, especially when as a teacher I witness day after day how parents can harm their children with just a few words or some broken promises.
Roman turns to his daughter and says, “Kiddo, go on inside. I need to talk with Jace for a minute.”
Emmy gives her father a curious look but after a moment of silent communication between them, she nods and turns toward me. “Thanks for the ride, Uncle Jace. Have a nice Thanksgiving.”
We exchange a quick hug. “You too, Em.” Once she’s shut inside the house, I shove my hands in my pockets and turn to face Roman. “What can I do for you?”
Roman tugs his arms across his wide chest and shoots me a dark look. “You need to stay away from my sister.”
Wow. I don’t even warrant the benefit of the doubt. Unbelievable. “Yeah, well, I’ll stay away if that’s what she wants.”
His eyes narrow. “She does.”
“Really? Because she hasn’t told me that.” Hasn’t told me much of anything. Clearly, he has the protective older brother thing going for him, which I completely understand. He takes it all a little far, in my opinion, but since I’ve never had a sister, who am I to judge?
Roman tears his hands through his hair and snaps, “Look, man, she doesn’t need someone dicking around with her.”
This guy is a piece of work. “I’m not dicking around with her.” Something in his expression tells me this is more than just him being an overprotective brother; this is someone genuinely worried for the safety of another. “Why can’t you give me a chance here, Roman? What exactly have I done that’s so bad?”
His anger fades just a little more and in its place is a terrifying fear that rips the breath from my lungs. The color drops from his face as he averts his eyes. And when he finally speaks, his voice is ragged with emotion. “She won’t talk to me, Jace. She won’t talk to anyone. I’m her best friend, her only friend really, and she’s barely said a word to me since the party.” He falls to his haunches, back propped up against a large stone pillar. “I’m scared for her.”
“What? Why?”
“Did you see her the day after the Halloween party?” When I shake my head, he sighs. “Well I did. She stayed in bed all day. Wouldn’t talk to me at all when I stopped by.” Rising slowly, he turns pleading eyes onto me. “Please, just walk away. Whatever is going on with her, you’re just making it worse.” He moves toward the front door and turns to face me once more. “She’s my baby sister, Jace, and I love her more than you can possibly imagine. If you have any feelings for her at all, you’ll step aside and let her get on with her life.”
Worry nags at me, but I shove it aside and somehow manage to nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
Roman holds my gaze for long, tense moments before he finally shoves the front door open and steps inside slamming it hard in his wake. The deafening finality of the sound isn’t lost on me, and yet the last thing I feel like I can do is walk away. Especially now. Doesn’t he realize that all he’s done is stoke the flames of worry and curiosity? There’s no way in hell I can turn my back on her now, not after he so much as told me something bigger than both of us is dragging her down.
Back inside the car, I gun the engine and pull out of the driveway, heading toward home. Getting Bella to confide in me won’t be easy. Before I do anything, I need to have my head on straight and figure out where the hell I want this to go. Regardless of the connection she and I have, there is no point in getting her to lower her guard if I have no intention of taking the relationship to the next the level. Hell … what is the next level? She and I need to develop a good, strong friendship before anything else will flourish and most certainly before she will ever trust me enough to confide her deepest, darkest secrets.
Friendship begins with the little things. Some small conversations then maybe a shared meal together or a perhaps a movie. Friendship is about relying on one another for the stupid stuff: a person to help you pick out a new toaster, the tag-along plus one at a party. Friendship is about what I have with my brother. Simple, no-nonsense, and being one hundred percent reliable.
It won’t be easy being her friend and keeping my distance physically. But this hasn’t exactly been easy either. I suppose I’d rather have her in my life as my friend, rather than not having her in my life at all. If the past few weeks are anything to go by, not being around her makes me one miserable fuck.
As I drive, I think about what Roman said. If he is indeed the person closest to her, and she refuses to confide in him, whatever it is that’s bothering her must be bad. Maybe she’s dealing with someone who refuses to take no for an answer like I am with Sunny. Though I have to believe that Bella would probably lop some dude’s nuts off if he tried to be as pushy as Sunny is with me. The thought makes me laugh.
Broken or not, the chick is tough. And beneath that cool exterior, I firmly believe there’s a treasure trove of things for me to learn. Those blue-green eyes hide a lot, but they couldn’t conceal the need she had for me that night. For those few minutes she was mine, and she was exactly where she wanted to be. All I can do now is be her friend and patiently wait for her to remember that once again.