Abel
"Mr. Caswell!"
I slow to a stop and a bubbly, short haired woman runs in front of me, just about skidding on her heels.
I've seen the woman a couple of times on campus. Whether it was at a quick after school teachers meeting, or at the front office, I can't quite place it—but our paths never really cross.
"I don't believe we've formally met yet," her stern hand juts out at me and I shake it. "I'm Leslie Spencer. I teach Spanish—I'm also the student activities coordinator..."
I nod my head slowly, waiting for her to get to the point as she tucks a chunk of dark hair behind her modestly pierced ear. The small stud she's wearing can't be much bigger than a spec of dust.
"Anyway, the students really love you—I mean really love you, like they can't stop gushing over Mr. Cass-anova." She laughs and i fight back the grimace that's forcing it's way out. "And as you know, homecoming is right around the corner so I'm rounding up a great team of teachers to help chaperone the dance."
"Are you...are you asking me to be a chaperone at the homecoming dance?"
"I'm inviting you to chaperone the homecoming dance." She grins, bouncing on her toes.
I scratch my cheek, my mind scrambling for the nicest possible no. She must see the answer in my eyes, despite me trying to fake a polite smile, because she pushes out her bottom lip and stares up at me with puppy dog eyes that hardly sway me.
"Please, Caswell." She looks at me sideways.
"I don't know, Leslie. I mean, what does a chaperone even do? Stand around and watch teenagers dance and make out? sounds..."
"No, no no." She laughs. " I mean, when you put it that way it sounds very strange, but hear me out. It's actually a lot of fun. Think of it as a chance to dress up, hang out with other teachers, eat free food...drink—a little, on the down low..."
I quirk my brow at that last line and she sighs.
"Okay truthfully, last years ticket sales were terrible. We wasted so much money on food, the school actually spent three times more than we made after all was said and done. Prom wasn't much better. It's really sad, and if we have another disaster event, there won't be anymore dances. I mean think of the poor kids who spend all year looking forward to homecoming and Sadie Hawkins, spring formal and prom—they won't get to experience any of that anymore." Her eyes beam into me, round and wide. "I mean, don't you remember your high school dances?"
Vaguely.
I mean, I never went to prom. I did go to one back to school dance, and that's just because it was free and my friends and I had nothing else to do that Friday night but try and score some free food.
"Well, that sounds terrible, Leslie...truly. But, what does me being chaperone have to do with that?"
"Like I said, everyone loves you." She smiles brightly again and I can feel myself giving in already. "You're one of the most popular and beloved teachers here at Carlson and I just know that if we had your support for this years homecoming it'll be a hit."
"Fine...okay, I'll do it."
"Really?!" She perks up so quick, I swear her feet lift from the ground. And then she jumps up and latches onto me like she's velcro and I'm soft and fuzzy. "Thank you! Thank you!"
I keep my hands in plain view as students pass by, staring at the show we're putting on. They're always watching. Kids are around us so much I actually pray for a desolate moment in the halls.
I step back gently, but still practically have to peel her off before she strangles me to death.
"You're going to have a great time! I promise." She hops up and down again before finally running off and I sigh, rubbing my aching neck.
All I wanted was a cup of fucking coffee.
Now I'm going to homecoming.
I should just get a coffee maker for my room, I think as I continue down the hall, glancing at my watch. That took up three too many minutes of passing period.
Those short three minutes are critical. A godsend when I'm basically dragging my feet all day just to get through six lectures on proper MLA format.
Fuck. I blow out a breath and my steps hit the linoleum harder as I power walk through the building.
Rough drafts are due tomorrow. Maybe I should just extend the deadline. Give them another week. Maybe I'll feel better then.
Maybe my head won't be so-
"No, I love it here so far."
That voice. My pace slows.
I shut my eyes, stopping still before I can even bombard the faculty lounge for the fourth time today. My fingertips rub a tired eye.
That voice is not the voice you think it is, Abel. You're just fucked up on caffeine.
And then I hear a laugh and it confirms it all for me.
My blood rushes down to my feet and I can't get my legs to lift from he spot I'm standing in.
What the fuck.
What. the fuck. is she. doing. here.
"Everyone's great here," I hear Jordyn say to her and my tongue hits my cheek. "Real friendly, nicest people I've ever met in my life, and I've worked for quite a few schools-"
My presence in the doorway is like a mute button. They both look at me.
Jordyn, her cheeks suddenly pinkish as she avoids eye contact and Shyla, doing the exact opposite.
Our eyes are locked, matter of fact.
Locked like loaded guns pointed at bright red targets.
I set my empty mug on the counter beside the Keurig and slide my hands in my pockets.
"Abel?" Shyla forces a laughs, her face oddly amused, but not at all surprised. "What? Are you, are you a teacher here?"
"You two know each other?" Jordyn's brow stiffens and my lips part in an attempt to answer, only to be silenced when Shyla speaks again.
"We used to date." She glances back at her. "Actually, lived together, almost had a baby—the whole thing."
Jordyn almost scoffs, but gulps instead. Like the words just vanished, straight down her throat.
"Crazy, right?" Shyla giggles again, her hands finding her hips.
I look her over, her blue scrubs.
Her name tag.
Nurse?
My eyes bounce from her eyes to her name tag over and over again, because there's no fucking way this is happening.
"Well," Jordyn clears her throat, "I better get back to my class. Nice meeting you, Shyla."
"Same here." She grins at her, but I just can't pull my eyes away. My heart is pounding, the vein in my forehead pulsing at the same rhythm. Like I'm a ticking bomb ready to explode as soon as Jordyn shuts that door behind her.
And as soon as I hear the soft slam, my mouth opens.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Shyla?"
She smirks. "I work here."
I stammer, "What do you mean you, you work here? Since when?" My brow goes solid in anger. "You fucking kidding me?"
"Not at all, Mr. Caswell. Funny, I could've been Nurse Caswell. That would've been cute."
"You can't work here."
"Why not? I needed a job, the school needed a nurse." She shrugs. "And here I am."
"What about living in Wood Crest? You're really going to commute here every day? That's easily a two hour drive in traffic."
"Oh, no I got an apartment in Carlson. My commute is now less than five minutes away."
My blood is close to boiling.
"You and me will be seeing a whole lot of each other." She smiles but I know her well enough to know it's not genuine. It's forced, it's conniving. "Just like old times."
...
"My life's a fucking train wreck," I tell Tyson, still pacing my living room.
I've been so antsy since running into Shyla. I can't even sit still, that shit got me more amped up than caffeine. I just know the crash is going to be brutal. I shake my head roughly, despite my aching neck. It's so stiff and tense, I've been rubbing at it all day with no relief.
But maybe it's because it's not as simple as massaging away a knot under my skin. The problem is in my head, it's in my gut.
It's in my chest.
"What now?" He flops onto my couch, tossing his keys on the coffee table, almost not seeming to care where they land. "Not the little teeny bopper again, man. I thought you let that shit go like I told you to."
I quickly shake my head again, not even wanting to address that. "Shyla's working at Carlson. She fucking moved here and took on the school nurse position, just so she can torment me. Like what the fuck."
"So what?"
"So what? She's my ex fiancée and I finally made peace with her walking out on me. I've finally gotten over her and here she is casually returning to this city just to stir some shit up I'm sure."
"But why is that?"
"Huh?" I frown at him. "I don't fucking know why she—"
"No, why now are you suddenly over Shyla? I mean yeah you were together for a long time, but damn, took you long enough. And when it finally happened it was all at once. Not gradually."
"What's your point?"
He crosses his arms in a smug way, looking me over. "I'm just wondering what finally got you to snap out of it."
"Time? Common sense? I don't know, Ty."
"Orrrr possibly a lady friend? But that doesn't make sense cause you haven't told me shit about any new women in your life."
"Cause there aren't any."
"Yeah, sure."
I frown at him, noting the hard expression on his face. The tension in his jaw, his fists. "You good, Ty?"
He almost laughs, but not quite. What comes out is dry, his smile only enough to show his fangs briefly when he shakes his head. "No."
And then I realized as I quickly took the next seat, all I ever do is talk about myself. My problems. Granted, he asks me, but I never ask back.
He's my brother in law. My really good friend. Probably my only friend, how can I let myself get so wrapped up in my own life, I don't remember to check in on his?
"What's going on?"
"You really wanna know?"
"Of course I do."
"Well," he sighs, "you know how your sisters been going crazy over wanting a baby for like the past two years?"
I nod slightly. I was aware, but I didn't know it was really that big of a deal.
"We'd been trying for at least that long with shit luck. I mean I really didn't care if we had one or not, you know me. Take it or leave it." He sort of shrugs. "But we finally went and got things checked out the other day and...the look on her face when they told her, Abel,"
"Told her what?"
"Basically, she won't be able to have children on her own. Well, their exact terms were 'close to impossible', but what's the fucking difference."
"There's other options though, right? I mean I'm sure Hailey wouldn't be thrilled to have to go another route, but if it's what she really wants then-"
"We already talked about that. She said she didn't like the idea if it wasn't the old fashioned way..."
Typical.
"What's so bad about getting some help?"
"You know how she is. I think it's mostly a pride thing, but she's completely sick over it. It's actually nice to be out of the house for a little...I love her, but it's draining. I gotta be so positive and uplifting all day and night and nothing helps."
I didn't really know what to say. I didn't even know if he really wanted me to say anything. I didn't exactly understand how any of that felt, I'd never quite reached that point in a relationship, but I knew it was heavy.
And knowing Hailey she was exactly what he said. Sick.
Probably would be for a while, and dammit maybe she needs more than just Tyson right now.
Maybe I need to pull my head out of my own bullshit and focus on something else.