The Simple Things

Chapter 11

Wicked Witch, Wonderful Wizard

            “I’m gonna miss you, daddy!” I whined, hugging him tightly. We hadn’t spent nearly enough time together… Our flight out was at noon since we would have school the following day and we didn’t want to be too late. I had slept until a little after ten and Mr. Schott, well, he had had no intentions of getting up at all.

            “I’ll miss you too, Rebecca.” He kissed the top of my head then let me go. He said to Mr. Schott, “If you’re ever in Vegas again, you know where to find me.”

            I cocked a brow in my father’s direction, inwardly saying, “Really dad? Really?” He thrown the biggest hissy fit when he learned I had brought a man with me and had still invited him back? The men in my life were strange…

            “Don’t give me that look, honey. You know I like the company.”

            I rolled my eyes at him. “Then you should get married or make some new friends. Maybe hire a prostitute. Don’t steal my friends, though.” I slapped his shoulder playfully and smiled in his direction.

            He pouted. “I don’t want a prostitute. I might get diseases.”

            “Then get a girlfriend.” I stuck my tongue out at him and gave my father one last hug. “I’ll come visit you over the summer. Will you be there for graduation?”

            “When is it?”

            Before I could answered, Mr. Schott did, “Last Saturday in May.”

            Dad frowned. “Did she invite you too?”

            “Yup,” I said quickly, a bit too quickly. Luckily, my dad, oblivious as he is, didn’t notice. He only nodded awkwardly. “Will you be there?”

            “I’ll try.” My father kissed the top of my head one last time, squeezed my shoulders, and let me go.

            “Bye dad, I love you.”

            “Love you too, sweetheart.”

            “If you don’t come out for graduation, I’ll come in after. So I’ll see you soon, old man!” I pushed Mr. Schott into the side of the car (accidently, of course) and got in before him. Mr. Schott nodded courteously to my father for a last time and settled in next to me.

            He flicked my arm.

            “Hey!” I pouted at him and held my arm. “What was that for?”

            “For rushing me! Us old people like to talk.”

            I laughed. “You are so old Mr. Schott. Practically a dinosaur.” He was what? Twenty-three—twenty-four? He had only been teaching for a year.

            “Oh man, are my scales showing?”

            “Yes they are, Barney.”

            He chuckled. “Nice save back there, by the way. Though I have no idea how you are possibly going to cover up that I’m your teacher at graduation.”

            “Just watch, Mr. Schott. I’ve got this.” In all honesty, I had no idea either.

*                                   *                                   *