* * *

I rode out the next few days, just like Tristan advised. It was really hard to be in the presence of people whispering about me but what made me go to work, and push aside all the shit was remembering how much I actually loved my job. But more so by reminding myself of how close I was to getting the new job.

When I went back to work I held my head high and did what I did best. I just did my job and taught my students. I turned a blind eye to the curious stares, and closed my ears to the whispers of Miss Carter being a homewrecker.

By Friday, my resilience strengthened me and a majority of people could see that I didn’t care.

The gossip amongst the students faded. Unfortunately though I still had the teachers to deal with. Well the minority. A.K.A Gertrude.

That evil bitch had insisted on continuing my discomfort as did her group of minions that gathered around her at lunch time.

Cora, who taught general studies was the one real friend I had at work. However, she’d been on leave that week so hadn’t been there to witness the full run of my distress. Usually we’d be able to stick together and resist the tension Gertrude created but I was on my own this week. I had other friends who worked here. There was Shyanne and Robin who both taught math but I noticed that they went all weird on me. Gertrude used that to her advantage, and I could only guess what she might have been saying about me.

The only people who knew the full Brian story was Tristan and Rachel, my actual friends.

This was work. I didn’t think it was necessary or appropriate to explain myself to anyone else. It was none of their business, and personal to me. Although I suppose by Brian’s wife coming here my personal life had spilled over into my work life.

I did however feel like I needed to say something to Priscilla, the principal of the school. And, I was only going to speak to her because the decision of my job was in her hands.

I made an appointment to see her first thing on Monday morning.

She raised her blonde head as I walked into her office. A soft smile lifted the corners of her red lips.

Priscilla was the sort of woman who could look businesslike and fashionable both at the same time. She wore tailored pants suits and had her hair kept in a pristine shoulder length style that allowed her to either have the ends flicked in a sort of Charlie’s Angels style, or up in a ponytail.

Today it was flicked.

“Zoe, lovely to see you.” She greeted me.

“Thank you for fitting me in.” I thought I should say that because I knew how busy she was.

“That’s okay. Sit.” She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “You wanted to talk.” She raised her brows slightly, eyes holding a spark of curiosity.

I felt that she knew why I wanted to talk. It was kind of obvious with what’s been happening recently, but it was good of her to act nonchalant, as if I’d just came by for a catch up.

“Yes.” I took a short breath, just to clear my mind. “There is a lot of rumors going around about me, and I wanted to assure you that they’re not true.”

It wasn’t true. I may have been with Brian. But I wasn’t the homewrecker. He was. Not me.

It had taken me all of last week to accept that. Rachel came to see me nearly everyday and between her and Tristan they helped me to make the distinction, and see the truth. They both took care of me, taking turns to do things for me, and nurse me back to a level where I felt I could face the world again.

I still felt hurt. God knew how badly I felt but I had to accept the reality of the situation, and move on.

In my efforts to move on I also accepted something else. I took a real deep search of my feelings and came to the conclusion that I didn’t love Brian. I may have had feelings for him, that had every chance of turning into love but I had never reached that point.

It was sad, but actually a small feat to claim in this disaster.

“I haven’t heard any rumors.” Priscilla gave me a brighter smile and a pointed look which suggested she’d heard all that was going on and turned a blind eye to it.

“Really?”

“Yes. I haven’t heard anything, but would suggest that if there were something you ignore it, especially if it’s not true.” She nodded and I felt grateful.

“Thank you.” Relief washed over me. She was the only person here whose opinion mattered to me.

“No thanks needed. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Nope. I’m good. That was all.” I rose from the chair slowly and stood before her.

“Well, if you need any assistance or have any questions about the next stage of the application let me know, okay.”

“I definitely will.” I assured her. Hearing that was gold to me because there was no better resource than her.

She gave me a reassuring nod before I left.

Walking out of the office I felt my legs again and I make my way into the staff room to grab some much needed coffee. Although I had more than eight hours sleep last night I felt drained out. I need a pick me up before I get to class.

I was glad the room was empty so I thought I’d take advantage and sit for a moment to prepare my mind for the day.

I went to the coffee machine and chose a cappuccino. I was watching the thick black liquid pour down into the cup when Gertrude came in. I made the mistake of looking over at her when I heard the door open.

Mentally I sighed and groaned inwardly, then I really did groan when I saw the scowl on her face. I also rolled my eyes.

“If you were a student I’d tell you not to eyeball me.” She hissed pushing out her full lips.

From the first day that I met her I’d always thought she looked exactly like Cruella Deville. Her hair wasn’t completely like the villain but it was pretty darn close with the entire front being white and the back jet black. Both colors looked stark against each other. It would have worked on someone more fashionable, like Priscilla. Gertrude’s whole persona however, was distasteful and screamed hell beast more than anything.

The first thing she hated me for was simply because I was the youngest teacher here, that went hand in hand with the fact that I was doing well. I would understand if I was maybe in my twenties, like fresh out of college and doing well, but seriously. I was in my early thirties, going on to mid in the next seven months. By most people’s careers standards I was actually behind. A lot of my friends I’d graduated with were making serious money, had their own businesses, like Rachel, and they were established in life with their own families.

I’d gotten sort of stuck because I enjoyed my job, and I suppose the life I lived with Tristan encouraged me to get used to being taken care of. Gertrude hated me for that too.

I kept him separate from my life here, as with most things but most of the teaching staff knew I lived with the former star quarterback of the LA Rams, now turned personal director and talent scout for the Centaurs.

Put simply, they thought I was rich and didn’t need to be here. Gertrude, however, was the only one who voiced the opinion.

“It’s a good thing I’m not then right?” I smiled and picked up the little cappuccino cup from the base of the machine.

Out of the corner of my eyes I could see she was looking at me with daggers but I decided I wouldn’t give her the time of day.

Until she said, “good thing? People like you shouldn’t be teachers. I don’t know how you can act so casual when all your dirt is being talked about by teachers and students.”

I zoned in on her and simply stared wondering what I really did to this woman for her to hate me so much. Bullying is common when you’re at school, as in a student, but as an adult I never expected I would have to put up with it. Years too, because this woman took a dig at me every chance she got.

I wanted to tell her to fuck off, but that wasn’t my style. It was just the thing Tristan would tell me to say to her but I didn’t talk like that at work, or really at all. It didn’t stop me from thinking it though.

“Gertrude, get a life. Get a life and stop dwelling on mine,” I balked straightening up so that my shoulders were pushed back and my head lifted to exude my I don’t care attitude.

Her face when I said that was classic. The scowl deepened and her wrinkles became even more pronounced. She actually looked mad that I spoke back to her.

“How dare you?” she demanded in a shrill voice, bitter with cynicism.

“How dare I what?” I challenged, really trying hard to keep my cool. “If I were you I’d worry about myself.”

“Are you threatening me?” her voice actually raised an octave and she rushed in trying to stand in front of me, but I side stepped her to give myself room for movement or escape. Fight or flight.

The coffee machine was behind me and I wouldn’t put it past her to hit me, or shove me into it. She looked like the type, but I wouldn’t give her the chance to. If I as much as see her hand raise towards me that would be it for me. I would give as much as I got.

Tristan taught me how to defend myself in times when he wasn’t around to protect me, and I wouldn’t hesitate to defend myself if Gertrude asked for it.

“Take it however you want. I don’t care.” I told her and roll my eyes again.

I’ve heard enough. If I stayed I knew I’d argue and it will become so much worse because she looked like she was ready for a fist fight. So I walked away as she continues to throw insult, after insult at me. She was saying something about the length of my skirt as I go through the door and slam it shut.

What a fucking bitch. I wish I could let loose and have cursed her back.

It wasn’t worth it though. It would add salt to my open wounds and I doubt that Priscilla would turn another blind eye if she heard that I was arguing, or fighting with Gertrude in the staff room that was right next to one of the classrooms, and the walls were thin.

As I walked past the classroom I can see there were students inside who would have, and could have, already heard the argument.

I swallowed hard and proceeded to my class, trying to forget the incident.

I’m really sick of these women attacking me. Each week there was one. Last week Brian’s wife, this week Gertrude.

People said things happened in three’s but I was determined to evade a third encounter, and be someone else’s punching bag.

* * *

Tristan got home just after me. It was just after seven. I stayed behind at work to do some research on the school’s past reports. It was my way of getting my mind back into the work and application mode. It took me hours to trawl through what I needed, and I still didn’t finish but I had a plan.

When I got in I also had another plan too, to rid myself of Brian completely. As soon as I got inside the house I went to my room and started going through all my Brian stuff. Pictures, gifts, jewelry, everything. The jewelry and things like stupid teddy bears I bagged up to go to charity. The pictures and other paper based things I’d saved from events we’d been to, I placed in a bag and took out to the terrace to burn in the fire pit we used for bonfires.

I did this whole ritual once before. With Joey. I never imagined doing it again, but hey I suppose it’s best that the truth came out now than when things got even more serious between us, or for me. Like it did with Joey. I’d never felt the connection I had with Joey for anyone else, but I’d always put that down to him being my first in a lot of things.

Brian was my first real adult relationship, and I’d stupidly put my brain in that mode where I was looking to the future and all that I wanted.

I couldn’t help but be the typical romantic kind of girl who wanted the guy that sweeps her off her feet, the guy who she falls in love with and has her happily ever after. Even after everything that had happened to me that was what I still wanted. Maybe it was all those books I loved reading, and the beauty that came from the classic pieces of art I got fascinated with.

Maybe it was all a stupid fantasy that I needed to let go of. I was thirty three years old and I couldn’t think of one of those guys who made me feel the true love or happiness I dreamt of having.

There is so much at work here, and there’s one thing that I really don’t want to think about because it makes me feel like shit when I do.

It’s my father.

Shit, just thinking of him now makes me feel like vomiting. No one had seen or heard from him since he left. There was nothing. As much as I hated him for leaving us I would at least like to know whether he was alive or dead.

Him leaving really did a number on me. I didn’t want to admit it but it was true. I thought of him when I meet a man I might like. I didn’t do it on a very conscious level, but the image of my father lurked in the corner of my mind and I remembered how he never cared for my mother, but that she loved him no matter what.

She did her best to keep our family together. He did his best to keep us apart, and was more interested in getting the next piece of ass who would have him. We never mattered to him. It didn’t matter how much we loved him, we just never mattered and he left. Crushing us. Breaking my mother’s heart.

I didn’t want that for myself.

This damn fiasco with Brian had opened my eyes in a way that I never imagined, and never wanted. I didn’t want to ever think of my father but it was obvious that what he did affected me.

With the care I’ve taken in my relationships, at least one should’ve worked out. Or, not end so badly. But they were all bad. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that they were all bad, and simply because they shouldn’t have been.

I never took the risk of being with anyone I immediately had a strong attraction for, and worse if I had any sort of feelings for. That was my defense mechanism to prevent from opening myself up to heartbreak. It took me awhile to do something as simple as accept an invite for a date with my previous boyfriends, and that came after I felt certain, comfortable and confident enough to put myself in that situation.

I claimed to have loved Joey, because he was the only person I allowed myself to feel for, but really he was just the same as the others.

My safe options.

I’d done it all wrong and now I was paying for it. And, time was passing. Time was ticking along in its carefree manner, knowing it was the master of everything.

I lit the fire and watched it ignite and spread across the burners. Soon it was big and ready to burn the pictures I had of my lying, cheating bastard of an ex and all memories associated.

Tristan came outside in only his pants. It was a black pair that looked like it belonged with one of his Boss suits. He was also holding two dress shirts in his hands. One blue, one green.

I supposed that meant he had a date, maybe with Beth. My woes had held him here for the last few nights. It was good of him to stay and I appreciated the company, but I guessed the call of massive tits and a firm ass awaited his attention.

“Baby, what the hell is this?” He asked looking at the fire. He then looked over at the shopping bag in my hands that was filled with the pictures and other Brian memoirs.

Pity filled his eyes and I felt bad. He was my best friend but I felt bad that he had to pity me. I also felt embarrassed for the amount of times he’d had to witness me in this state.

“I’m just burning some stuff.” I replied. The gentle evening breeze picks up the ends of my ponytail and brushes against my cheek.

The amber light from above beamed down on him and hit his eyes turning the ocean blue the same amber color, but with a twinkle in it.

He’s concerned about me. I can tell, but I really don’t want him to miss out on another date with the esteemed Beth.

“I’m fine though.” I added, and I even smile to make it seem more believable.

I needed to be alone tonight I think. Just so I can get this out of my system.

There’s a lot I need to detox from my mind, and I needed to cry again. I don’t want to cry with Tristan here.

It was all bad and I was still hurt. I was hurt by what happened because I was devalued and made to feel like I wasn’t worth anything. I was never number one with anyone I’d ever been with, and the irony of it all was the only person I knew I was number one to stood before me.

My friend, Tristan who was obsessed with women with massive tits and firm asses.

This was the twilight zone right? It had to be.

“You don’t look fine.” He points out and inclines his head to the side.

I ignored the look of pity and started tossing pictures on the fire.

“I’m fine. I just don’t want these around me. There’s nothing here to keep, nothing I want to keep.”

“Baby, you sound angry.”

“I’m not angry, I’m hurt. But, I’ll get over it.” I’ve always been upfront with my feelings to him. There was no point being any other way, but since I didn’t want to break down again tonight, or at least in front of him I decided to steer the conversation to something more lighthearted. “So, are you seeing Beth?”

“Yeah, I was gonna go in a few minutes.”

“Cool shirts.” I smiled pointing my chin to the shirts in his arms.

“I can’t decide on which to wear.” He chuckled and held them both up by the collar. The light from the fire flickered over the number seven he had tattooed over his left breast. His old player number.

I liked it because it looks cool and for the meaning it holds for him. It was the first tattoo he got. The black Chinese dragon on his back came next which looked cool too because the tail curved around to the edge of his stomach and at the tip of the tail was the Chinese character for the letter Z. Z for Zoe. “Green or blue?”

“She’ll like the blue one. It brings out the color in your eyes. I’m sure you’ll get lucky if you wear that shirt.” I was trying to joke. I knew he didn’t need luck. Look at him with those fantasy muscles I’d only ever seen on serious athletes and the covers of magazines like Men’s Health. Then there were the tattoos. I was sure Beth had already picked out her choice of lingerie for the evening.

“Well, she’s a Victoria Secret’s Angel, I’m going to need luck tonight.” He gave me an uneasy laugh.

I guess that means she has the very best lingerie then.

“Go with blue then.”

“Yeah?”

I look back to the fires as I toss some more pictures in. They burn almost immediately, crackling and folding in on themselves until they are no more.

I look back at him when I feel his eyes on me.

“What?” I asked and focused on him.

“Which shirt do you like?”

A little laugh escapes my lips as I wonder why he would ask me that, but I answer anyway. “Green.”

“Why green?” he looked at me baffled, probably because I recommended the blue one.

I looked at the shirt. It was a dark olive sort of green. It was elegant, sophisticated and classy. When he wore colors like that he had that old Hollywood movie star look that I swooned over, like James Dean or Gene Kelly.

He’d most likely cringe if I said that because I doubted Beth’s the kind of girl who even knows those actors, and I doubted that’s the look he’s going for. But I like it. I also think the color suits him too for another striking reason which I choose to tell him over the classy Hollywood look.

“Aside from that it looks good, it brings out the slight hints of brown in your eyes that not many people can see.”

The look he gave me made me pause mid-thought. It was warm, and something else I can’t put my finger on but…I feel it.

Does that make sense? To feel a look?

I don’t know what makes sense these days but I do feel the look and it makes sense to explain it like that.

It’s a look that makes me feel like he can see straight through me, so I can’t hide, or keep anything to myself. It makes me stare and get lost in the perfect angles of his chiseled features. When I find myself blushing I look away, back to the fire.

“I think you’ve been trapped with me for too long, baby.” There’s a smile in his voice.

I return my gaze to him and see that he’s shifted his weight back from one leg to the other, and he’s putting on the green shirt.

“You’re choosing the green one? I thought you said you needed luck with Beth.” I chuckle and think of the model wondering if I’ve seen her. I’m sure I have if she’s an angel. I love Victoria’s Secret lingerie, but I just don’t have the time to memorize the models. I’m too busy with work and when I’m not working my spare time is taken up by my old English books. I see more of authors of the past like, Byron, Hemmingway, and Tennyson than I see real people. And when I say see, I mean I read so much of their works that I could almost see them for real.

For what I know though of Victoria’s Secret models, I know their all perfect beings who are indeed what you’d imagine angels to look like. The Victoria Secrets Angels are just a notch above the rest of the models, and I guess above the rest of womankind in most men’s eyes. Just the kind of woman my best friend would be dating.

“You like the green one, I’m staying here.” He flashed me a dazzling smile but I frown back.

“No.” I really don’t want pity tonight. Not from anyone, and not from him.

“Miss Carter, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” The way he said Miss Carter similar to how one of my students would made me laugh a little, but I resumed my seriousness and shook my head at him.

“Tristan, wear the blue shirt and go get lucky with Beth. We can play Call of Duty or something when you return days from now.” He had been known to take days off when he got his eye on a new shiny toy. Beth sounded like a prized catch so I expected to have the house to myself for the best part of the week.

Now he frowned at me. “Baby, this is no matter of discussion. I’m staying.”

“Tristan.” I said his name with more insistence, but my voice sounded a little shaky. “You can’t keep doing this.” Now when I look at him I’m putting everything into perspective.

He didn’t have to prove anything to me because I knew he’d be there if I need him. I do however have to be realistic.

Time is passing. Not just tonight, last week or this week. Just time in general. We sailed through our twenties living together and going through life having fun.

There was a time when I never thought things would change.

Time makes things change, and we will change one day. We have to as we get older.

“Tristan, if you keep cancelling then you’re going to end up with me in this house forever.”

He put his hand to his chin and I was surprised to see the smile. “Does that vision include blueberry muffins?”

“What is the matter with you?” I snap. “I’m being serious.”

“I can see that baby, and now you’re verging on territory you shouldn’t be worried about, unless you don’t like me anymore, and that was your way of saying that being in this house with me forever would be the worst thing in the world.”

Even he’s laughing at the absurdity of me thinking that.

“You are so cute.” I rolled my eyes at him. “I wasn’t saying that, and you know I like you.”

“Perfect, because being in this house with you forever doesn’t sound that bad from where I’m standing.”

He buttoned up the last button and walks over to me taking the bag I’m holding and throws it with the remaining contents in the fire.

Being this close I could smell the musky fragrance of his cologne. I look up at him, and the sly, cocky smile that lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck this Zoe. And the damn mood too. You and I both know you can do better than Brian, and there’s no need for this sulking. Jesus, the man had a face like a dog’s ass.” He took my hand and pulled me away from the fire, then reached over to the hairband securing my ponytail.

“What are you doing?” I can’t help but giggle.

“There she is.”

“Me? What do you mean, you crazy boy?” I laughed as my hair tumbles down my shoulders.

“You like this green shirt, I like your hair down. We are going out.”

“It’s a school night, and I just told you to go –”

“No baby, it’s us tonight,” he interrupted. “I’m not leaving you here to get more depressed.”

I sighed, thinking about it. As much as I want to sulk, I couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind his company. Even if it’s to laugh at his crazy jokes. “Okay, but I don’t want to ruin your plans after tonight.”

“Baby, it’s our friendship anniversary on Saturday, and then I’m off to Philly for a week after that. I’m going to get you out of this mood before I go, even if I have to glue myself to you every minute of every day. Now please come. Come out with me.”

I nodded, agreeing to go and he gave me that smile again.