Clara's Undoing

Clara's Undoing - Chapter Twenty Two

I took a deep breath before coming in, then let it out just as equally heavy. Mr. Parrish's classroom was empty and I immediately sighed in relief. I knew I wasn't ready to confront him after what happened last Saturday at the party especially after the way I told him off. He was still my teacher after all.
Suddenly, the door from his office on the corner opened and he emerged, holding his phone as he typed in something before he noticed my presence.
"Good morning Ms. Wheeler." He asked casually, as if nothing unusual happened over the course of the weekend. "How was the rest of the party?"
My brows took a deep dive. "You were there, remember?"
"Jodie and I took off early." He replied.
My chest constricted straightaway, sending me into another swirl of confusion. The both of them leaving early from the party? Even an eighth grader would get the gist of it.
"Well, I wouldn't know. We got pretty smashed and a lot happened. We never made it back to the soiree." I told him, which wasn't a complete lie. We all did get pretty trashed but nothing happened, at least nothing we could all remember. It only became a night filled with shots of different kinds, courtesy of Sidney Mendoza, and then most of us passed out in different parts of the pond house. The only good thing I could take away from that night was that I ended up in the actual bed of the guest room. Milla never even made it to the couch.
Mr. Parrish only gave me an understanding nod before picking up the white board marker and turning to the board. He went over to the corner and began writing things that required immediate submission, completely disregarding me.
"Your coffee, Mr. Parrish." I said apprehensively, puzzled by his sudden coolness.
"You may put it on the desk, Ms. Wheeler. Thank you." He replied without looking at me, his entire attention focused on the stuff he was writing.
I was completely thrown off by how nonchalant he was being. So he really was just concerned at me like how a thoughtful teacher would be of his student?
Warily placing his cup of coffee on the desk, I pursed my lips, contemplating whether or not I should say what I had rehearsed multiple times in my mind this morning.
"Actually, Mr. Parrish, I wanted to talk to you about something." I said.
By this time, he was already finished with the deadlines and was already capping off his marker. "What's up?"
I grasped my bag on my shoulder tighter, lightly scratching my temple with my other hand. "I wanted to apologize for how I acted last Saturday at the party. I shouldn't have bitten your head off like that."
Finally, a splash of emotion ran across his emerald eyes for a fleeting moment before he visibly, brilliantly recomposed himself.  "I believe the words 'condescending ass' were mentioned."
I winced internally. "Right, sorry about that. It must be the alcohol."
"I also seem to remember "perpetually confused" were thrown in as well." He added with a hint of smirk on his gorgeous lips. "So what made you perpetually confused?"
I blinked at him, trying to rack my brain of what to answer. "Nothing. All of that confusion has been washed away by the tequila shots Sidney had us doing."
"Right." He replied, sounding a little disappointed. "Very well. Now that that's settled. Shall we get back to minding our own business?"
Forcing a smile onto my lips, I nodded. "Of course. I'll be on my spot, sir. I need to catch up on my new Drafting assignment and I'm taking your advice about drawing subjects that I like."
He flashed me a soft smile. "Good for you, Ms. Wheeler."
"Oh and I promise we'll work on the materials after class." I cried over to him as I made my way to my spot on top of the shelves.
The silence that took over the entire room made way to diverse thoughts overflowing my mind. It appeared that I had just been overthinking Mr. Parrish's actions too much, giving it more meaning that there actually was to it. So maybe now I could get back on track with where I was with James.
Plus, it was University Fair week, the busiest three-day fair for all Seniors. From today till wednesday, different colleges would be sending representatives to check out possible candidates for recruits and I was eager to make my impression with Yale. Hopefully before Thursday so I'd have something to yap about on Thanksgiving Dinner. Mom had invited the Evans over, to which they happily accepted.
There wasn't anything more said between Mr. Parrish and I the entire time I was there. Mostly, he retreated into his office and I left while he was still there. It was probably better this way in order to avoid any more confusion. I should refrain myself from making friendly interactions with him. Professional relationship, those are the key words. Especially when we start spending more time on the Physics materials.
By lunch, I've forgotten all about Mr. Parrish's unexplained fluctuation in terms of interacting with me. His sudden taciturnity was well beyond me but I figured perhaps it was because of how I acted last Saturday at the party. Maybe he took it to heart and was suddenly reminded of the unorthodox friendship between us, which was my fault.
Beatrice had accompanied me to my locker for my routine exchange of books as we talked about the crazy things that happened in the Pond House. She was well into reminiscing how Milla fell to her slumber on the way to the bathroom to puke when I was welcomed by unexpected flowers in my locker as soon as I opened them.
"What is it?" Beatrice asked when she saw me stopped in my tracks.
There sitting before my books were three long-stemmed, full-blown apricot roses with a black ribbon holding them together.
"Oh my gosh, those are Juliet roses." Beatrice exclaimed behind me. "They're gorgeous!"
"A what?" I frowned slightly.
"Don't you know what kind of roses those are?"
"Is there more than one kind?"
"Those are the most expensive roses in the world, Clar." She elucidated. "It sold for five million dollars on its introduction. It's actually named after Romeo and Juliet."
"Five million dollars? For a bush?" I exclaimed in disbelief. "That's a ridiculous amount for some plant."
"Which took almost fifteen years to develop. They call it the 'three million pound rose' because that was how much it cost to perfect." She explained further. "So who's it from?"
I shrugged, frowning. "It doesn't say. There's no card or anything."
"It must be from James, right?"
I bit my lip. "Of course, who else? Do I look like someone who would have a secret admirer?"
"Can he be any more romantic?" Beatrice gushed. "Who knew he had it in him? No, wait… there's a note."
I followed her gaze. There in between my books was a little white card. I took it and was surprised at how vague the note was.
My whole life too.
"Wow, who knew James had a poetic bone in his body?" Beatrice remarked, taking the note in her hand to study it further. "And look, black ribbon. It's like you've got your own Phantom of the Opera… or in this case Phantom of the corridor."
Suddenly, I was reminded of James' words at the Senior trip, when he told me he loved me, and how I couldn't say it back. Maybe I had just been spending more time with Mr. Parrish than with him which was probably causing me all this confusion. Maybe I just needed to spend more time with my actual boyfriend than with my Physics teacher. Maybe that way, I could easily get to where James was in terms of feelings.
During dismissal, I invited James and I for a quick date at The Coffee Shop. He had training and I was about to have my first stand off with Mr. Parrish for the materials he's asked me to help him with and I was just glad that James didn't have a clue to my brief wavering over my feelings while it lasted. He even dropped me off at Mr. Parrish's classroom and kissed me goodbye before he ran off to practice, which Mr. Parrish was just in time to see when he got out of his office.
"Here. Got you another coffee, Mr. P." I said as I shoved the cup over to him.
He took it with wary eyes, his warm fingers slightly brushing against my eternally cold ones for a brief moment, giving me a slight shiver. I immediately pushed the unwarranted feelings to the back of my mind as I strutted past him going straight into his office.
The raw materials were already prearranged all over the middle spot on the coffee table by the couch and upon checking, I saw that he's gotten everything I listed down to the last brush.
Mr. Parrish came in after a while, just in time to witness me transferring the heavy paint cans down to the floor.
"What are you doing?" He asked after taking a sip of his coffee, his free hand in his pocket and I could see faint marks of veins sticking out of his pale arms since he's rolled up his sleeves already.
I grunted as I picked up another can of paint from the coffee table. "I can't possibly work on the couch, Mr. Parrish. This is a floor-work. Couch's too cramped for this kind of task."
Immediately, he placed his coffee down on his office desk and snatched the new can I just picked up. This time, his hand full-on went over mine and I felt a sudden jolt of electricity streaming from where our skins met.
I pulled my hand away instantaneously, turning my back on him so he wouldn't see my probably-now-red cheeks. He began transferring everything down to the floor as I took my blazer off and dropped it on the couch.
"I see you're very good at following a list, Mr. Parrish." I said as I put my hair up in a ponytail. "You've got every single thing down to the last one. I'm impressed. Who knew you frequented home depot in your free time?"
"I don't." He replied with an amused expression on his face. "And it's just a list. Any decent man should have to know where to get things."
I grinned, feeling like everything was back to normal. "Well, we better get started. You cut the fabric, I'll start lining out the designs."
He licked his lips then let out a huge breath of air, the ends of his bangs flowing up a little. Then he began rolling out the fabric and cutting it into twenty-five-inches strips without any difficulty while I planted myself on the floor and started sketching the words with a pencil.
"You know, it just occurred to me that this would've been a hell of a lot easier if we printed tarpaulins instead of handwriting these banners." Mr. Parrish suddenly commented, breaking the silence that had engulfed us as we worked.
I shook my head gently, thickening the outlines I've made.
"In the school spirit sense, it won't be as personal. Lucky for you, I…" I paused as I tilted my head, staring at my handiwork as I finished the few strokes it needed before continuing. "Happen to be very good at calligraphy. Not to brag but, see? You came to the right person."
Mr. Parrish turned his attention to me as he stood up behind me, hovering above to check my work.
"It's incredible. The calligraphy's extraordinary, really." He said with an impressed expression on his face. "Except the entire thing's nowhere near centered."
I stared down at the first banner in horror. "Holy shit."
Mr. Parrish silently laughed at my choice of words, licking his lips as he turned back to the huge roll of fabric.
"I think I'm gonna go print some stencils." I said, picking myself up from the floor. 
"You can use my computer. Printer works too." Mr. Parrish offered.
I went over to his desk and opened the screensaver, only it needed his password.
"Passcode." I called over to him.
He looked at me as he was cutting through the fabric. "Two-five-two-seven-two-nine."
Wow. I didn't think he'd give it that easily. I typed in the code and a spreadsheet immediately opened. Budget Allocation was written in a huge font on top of it. It was probably the last thing he was working on. I went over to the desktop and looked for the word document before a call popped up on the bottom right of the screen.
Elizabeth, it said, along with a thumbnail of a beautiful, foxy blonde girl that looked a lot like a model.
"Mr. Parrish, someone named Elizabeth is calling." I told him.
His stance immediately went rigid, stopping just before he started cutting again. Then he tried to locate his phone from his pockets to no avail before standing up and exiting his office.
I heard the drawer from his classroom desk open and close before the call notification on the bottom right of the screen disappeared, meaning he answered it. I tried to listen in on his conversation but it was impossible to hear from my position. I think he may have gone out into the hallway.
Shaking my head, I disregarded my plans of eavesdropping and went back to working on the stencils, typing one letter per page.
First, Jodie. Then Ms. Collins. Then Jodie again. Now, Elizabeth? And another blonde for that matter. Just how many girls does Mr. Parrish like to keep in rotation?
Without even realizing it, every press I made on his keyboard came down harder and harder with every letter. My eyes were locked in a constant glare that I couldn't seem to shake away.
A few moments later, Mr. Parrish came back, looking down at his phone with a peeved expression on his face. Whatever that call was, it bothered him and left him in a vexed mood.
"Everything alright?" I asked warily, gauging his reaction.
He looked at me like he just remembered I was here before licking his lips and going back to his spot earlier, resuming with the work he was tasked with with his elbows propped on either of his knees. 
I rolled his black leather oxford chair over to where he was, with only an empty liquor-cart in between us. The slight frown on his face and the fact that he didn't notice me approach him told me that he was still extremely bothered by the call he just received. I could only see half his face. He looked so mysterious and forlorn and it was as if he was starring in a very sad music video.
"Mr. Parrish." I called softly, leaning into him closer. "You okay?"
Still, he didn't hear me yet I was barely a foot away. I propped my elbows on top of the cart, before tapping him on the shoulder with my index finger and as soon as he turned to face me, I was stunned at the distance left between our faces.
His melancholic eyes instantaneously emanated utter shock, turning softer and more earnest as he kept my stare. Whatever encouraging words I was going to say to him, they were gone the moment those jade eyes met my brown ones. The way the light glistened over his velvety skin made me appreciate the nearly emotionless expression he had, with only his lips partly opened.
Then his eyes gently flitted down to my lips sending a deafening bang inside my chest, causing me to release a small breath of air.
Suddenly, I saw his hand from the corner of my, coming up to my cheek and as soon as it was in close proximity to my face, my eyes automatically closed on their own accord.
I anticipated the touch of his fingers against my cheek and as soon as I felt it, I let out a small breath of air through my nose, savoring its warmth against my cool skin.
Then it was gone.
I opened my eyes and found him holding up something in front of my face.
"You had a stray lash." He muttered before looking back at me with a devious smirk on his lips. "Why were your eyes closed?"
I leant back right away, my cheeks growing extremely hot in utter embarrassment.
"I um…I…" I stuttered, lightly biting the corner of my lips as I thought of something to say. "I knew that. I was making a wish. Don't you know how that goes? You get a wish for every stray lash."
He smirked before licking his lips and replying. "What did you wish for?"
"That someone who promised food while working would honor his words." I pointed out. "After all, that someone did say he was a man of his word."
"That's what you wished for?" He asked. "Food?"
I turned my attention and swivel-chair back to the computer screen before responding. "Yes. I'm famished. And I told you I can't work in this state."
"If you say so." He muttered under his breath before standing up and going over to where I was.
I kept my eyes on the screen, focusing my attention on the work that I was doing as I tried to shake away the flushing in my face.
Mr. Parrish stood tall on my left, a foot away from me, and before I knew it, he leant down to me, putting our faces back in close proximity.
My eyes widened in shock as I willed my mind to try to grasp the situation. Our faces were back together, just a few inches away from each other. Only this time, there was a hint of smile on his pink, soft lips. I could feel his breath coming from his nose and a wave of intoxicating musk engulfed my sense of smell.
"Aren't you gonna close your eyes again, Ms. Wheeler?"