Sweet Caroline

#27 Easy access

He turns to me, eyes narrowed and jaw set. I can tell he doesn't want to leave me alone.

"Go," I tell him, smiling widely. It may be fake, but anything to get him out of here. "I'm fine."

He takes a moment to regain his composure and gives me another hard look before he gets back to the dance. Elise stay behind for a moment, looking thoughtful.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her eyes resting on my face where my fading bruise is. I know it's covered, but she saw me earlier this week when it was still pretty bad. I just know she's trying to figure me out.

I don't feel like explaining anything to her, so I just shrug.

"I didn't realize you and my ex-husband were on first-name basis, Miss Collins," she muses, all the kindness from earlier tonight gone. "Or do all the dads call you Caroline?"

Holy fuck. Looks like she may not be buying that Michael Thompson was the one groping me just now. She looks like she thinks I'm flirting with all the dads, including Nathan. Of course, she's right about that last part, but I can't believe she picked up on it in this weird moment, when I'd just been sexually harassed by a man I'd definitely never flirted with.

"Most fathers haven't seen me get groped by someone I most definitely don't want," I counter. The shock is wearing off and I'm back to my normal self. I won't let Elise talk to me like that. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a dance to get back to."

The rest of the night goes by in a blink. Nathan doesn't talk to me again, but he does give me a brief nod before he takes off with Elise and Rose when they're ready to go home. Elise looks from me to him with a frown, but she doesn't talk to me either. Mr. Thompson left, thank God, and Mallory and her new guy took the kids home with them. A lot of parents come by to say their goodbyes and wish me a nice vacation, and somehow, I manage to keep a smile on my face.

I don't know why this is all getting to me so much. It's not like I've never had a man make unwanted advances on me. When guys get drunk, that's what they do. I wasn't the most popular girl in high school or college, but I did find myself at a party fending off a drunk asshole sometimes. It was never really about me, since they always found a girl who was willing after I told them no, but they did give me my fair share of experience with just how fucked up men can be. Mr. Thompson is no different. He was just drunk and upset and I was just there. If it had been Tiffany, he'd have put the moves on her instead of me.

Still, I feel gross. The whole thing with Danny pops into my brain and touch the side of my face with a shiver. What am I doing that makes men think they can just do whatever they want? Is it some kind of energy I'm putting out there? Did I flirt with Mr. Thompson without meaning to? I mean... I did dance with him and tell him to help me out in the teacher's lounge. I thought it was obvious I was just trying to help and keep the boys from having to watch their parents fight at a school function. Maybe it wasn't. And Elise was right that it's dumb to put yourself in a vulnerable position with someone who's drunk. It did that with Danny the night he hit me and I did it again with Mr. Thompson. I'm so stupid.

"Earth to Caroline!" Tiffany waves a hand in front of my face and laughs when I let out a startled cry. "All the parents are gone. Could you help clean up?"

I grab a trash bag and start helping the other teachers. It takes us an hour, but with everyone helping it all goes a lot faster than I expected. There'll be a cleaning crew coming through during the break, but we can't expect them to put decorations into boxes and do the dishes for us. They just make sure nothing is sticky or glittery when classes start again.

After about an hour, almost everything is done. Only my own classroom is still in full Christmas vibes and I tell the others to just go. I can do this on my own. Tiffany hugs me before she leaves, and we make plans to meet up on the weekend. John sticks around even though I tell him he doesn't need to and it's actually quite nice to have someone to help me. The fact that he looks like Santa makes it funny as hell, like jolly old Saint Nick is helping me put away decorations for his own holiday.

"Caroline..." He looks at me while we untangle the lights before storing them away for next year. "I'm sure you heard what happened to Hillary by now. You know, the teacher whose job you've now got."

"Yeah," I agree. I've got a feeling a know where this conversation is going. "I do."

John looks uncomfortable, a look I don't see on him very often. "Good. I just want to make sure that you get just how much dating a parent is frowned upon."

"I know."

I can tell he was hoping for me to just spill the beans, but it's not going to be that easy. Tiffany promised not to tell anyone, so all John has nothing but suspicions.

"Okay, good." John doesn't say anything else, so we just go back to tidying up.

We chat about his kids for a while, and he lights up when he tells me about his daughter who recently announced her first pregnancy. His son already has two kids and he shows me pictures of his two grandsons. We talk about our plans for the holidays and I'm glad that he doesn't bring up me dating a parent again. If Nathan and I work out, he'll find out eventually, but it's too soon for people to know.

"Could you empty the paper bin?" John asks me. "I'm gonna wipe the paint off the windows."

As I pick up the blue bin, I notice a piece of paper with Rose's name on it. It's the list for Santa the kids were working on the past weeks. Why would she throw hers out? I take it out and unfold it to see what she wrote on it.

My breath hitches when I see the drawing. It's a man, lying on the floor in a pool of blood. There's a knife in his chest and with the words Trevor dead above it. Holy shit. She really doesn't like Elise's boyfriend, now does she? My eyes move on to the other things Rose wants from Santa and I curse softly. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How did I not see this earlier? Why did I not pay more attention to what she was drawing during class? I can even remember her asking me how to spell the word access. Why didn't I ask her why she wanted to write down that word? I'm so stupid.

"John!" I call out, failing to keep the panic from my voice. "Come and take a look at this."

He puts down the rag he was using and rushed over, looking at the paper in surprise. "What's-" He stops whatever he was going to ask and curses just like I did.

Next to the drawing of Trevor is a picture of a dress Rose must have cut out of one of the magazines I brought to school for the kids to use when they made their lists. There's a big red cross over it. That's not the part that has the skin on the back of my neck prickly in panic and disgust, though. It's the words she wrote beneath it.

No easy access.

I knew from the start that something was off about Rose, about her fits, about her insistence about not wearing a dress. I should have known that it was more than just a childish thing. I should have pressed her harder to talk to me. How did I not realize that something much bigger was going on?