PHOTO SHOULD BE OF ALEX REYNOLDS.
Tuesday.
It was a Tuesday, a few weeks after he had given her the book to read and they first spoke outside of school.
It was nearing five o'clock and had rained all day, Belle was sitting in her room watching rain drops race down the glass. Her father was in the living room, getting drunk. They lived in a rundown building that was basically a cock roach infested hell hole. Her mother had been dead for going on ten years and her father had re-married a stripper.
Neither one was ever concerned with Belle and she spent more time taking care of them, than herself.
"Belle!" Her fathers voice rang through the small apartment.
She slid from the window seat and crossed the old, creaky hardwood floor. She entered the small, cramped kitchen. Her father was standing near the fridge, holding the door open.
"Yes?"
"Go to the store, get groceries and make dinner. Your mother is working late."
"Step mother."
"Don't talk back to me, do as your told."
"It's pouring, we have tuna and some other things here. I can make tuna noodle casserole."
She didn't get to say another word before he backhanded her, her head snapping sharply to the left and causing a sharp stabbing pain in her neck. Her cheek instantly throbbed and tears blinded her vision, she pressed a hand to her cheek and when she drew it away realized her nose was bleeding.
"I said get to the store and by the groceries."
She didn't move at first and he lifted his hand as if to strike her again, she grabbed her coat and hurried out the door before he could deliver another blow. Grabbing her shoes before going out the door.
She reached the sidewalk and began pulling on her shoes, her coat tucked under her arm was basically useless as she was already completely soaked. The store she most often used was only a few blocks away but in the rain it was still miserable.
By the time she stepped into the store she was drenched and knew her cheek was bruising. She pushed her wet hair back and dug in her coat pocket until she could produce a soaking wet, twenty dollar bill. It wouldn't go far but she could get some chicken and maybe some rice.
She knew a few of the other shoppers were staring at her and she didn't blame them. She must look like a drowned rat. She took a deep breath and wiped more blood on her sleeve, before starting down an aisle.
She grabbed a box of rice before heading to the meat section. She walked quickly, her wet shoes squeaking against the floors. She was just about to grab a small package of chicken when a deep voice called to her.
"Miss Whitley?"
She turned and saw her English teach, Mr. Alexander Reynolds. He was good-looking, so good looking and young. She'd estimate he was only in his mid to late twenties, every girl in the school wanted a piece of him and while she didn't openly fall all over him she'd be lying if she said she didn't notice him.
Blonde hair that was a touch too long for a teacher and piercing blue eyes. He wasn't clean shaven like the other teachers and he looked out of place standing there in a leather jacket and jeans instead of a suit.
"Mr. Reynolds, Hi."
"What happened?" he asked, moving closer and she flinched away.
"I walked in to a door, I'm so clumsy."
Before she could back away any further he reached out and wiped some of the blood off her cheek. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"How did you get here?" He asked.
"I walked, it's about four blocks."
"In the rain?"
"It's not far."
"It is in the rain, let me give you a ride home."
"No, sir.....really....I..."
"This isn't a debate, Miss Whitley. I'll be waiting for you by the doors."
He turned and walked away and she watched him go, she didn't want him to give her a ride. She didn't want to be that close to him or have to make small talk with her teacher, she didn't want him to see where she lived.
She wasn't rich and he must know that but she got excellent grades in all subjects, she was well behaved and polite. She tried to cover her poor background with education and intellect, letting him see just how poor she really was would be humiliating.
She selected a small piece of chicken that wasn't very appetizing looking and then proceeded to the checkout. She stood in line and scanned the other lines for him but didn't see him, then her eyes caught sight of him standing near the door as promised. A small part of her had hoped he'd forget and leave without her.
She paid for her minimal purchases and walked slowly to the door, when he saw her he approached. She offered him a timid smile and he held the door for her as she exited.
"My car is right over here," He said motioning to the left.
She followed him, quietly with her head down. Her father would be furious if he found out she'd allowed a teacher to drive her home. He didn't like people to see the state in which they lived the state in which he treated his daughter.
Mr. Reynolds opened the door for her when they reached the car and she froze in surprise, most people she knew would climb in their own door and let her on her own. He stood there in the freezing rain patiently holding the door open. She hurried and climbed into the car and he closed her inside before hurrying around to his own side.
He drove a sleek, black BMW, the seats were a leather that felt almost sinful. If the devil himself drove a vehicle she was completely convinced this would be it.
His door closed and she jumped, she hadn't been aware he'd opened it but now he was sitting beside her in the tiny space. She could smell his cologne, a soft spice mixed with a sweet smelling musk. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and put the key in the ignition.
The car roared to life like a beast out of hell and he maneuvered it out of the parking lot and onto the street with ease. She gripped the edge of the seat with one hand, her anxiety rising. She didn't want him to see the building she called home.
"Where do you live?"He asked.
"Oh, uh. You can let me out on the next block," She said.
He slowed down and she held her breath, he didn't pull over. He sat in the middle of the road and she reached for the door handle.
"Miss Whitley, this is a fish market."
"Yeah, I know."
"You live here?"
"Uhm....no, not really."
She looked at the fish market and shook her head, she felt stupid for trying to lie but desperate to do something.
"Why would you lie?"
"Because," She said wiping a tear away.
"Because why?"
"Because, I don't want you to see where I live."
She turned to look at him and saw the surprise on his face, she shook her head and wiped angrily at another tear. It wasn't his fault her family was dirt poor, he had no way of knowing that she didn't want him to see her life outside school.
He shifted in his seat and a second later handed her a handkerchief, she looked at him confused.
"Clean yourself up a little and tell me where you live," He said gently.
She wiped at her eyes and then gently wiped her nose before feebly pointing down a darkened street, he didn't comment as he headed in the direction she indicated. It was probably the first time a BMW had ever been down this part of town. When they reached her building he pulled over and she hesitated in getting out of the car. It was warm inside his car and she had finally dried off somewhat, she wasn't ready to go inside.
"This is it," She said softly.
"It's not that bad."
"You don't think it's a complete dump?" She asked, not believing him.
"Of course it is but that's not your fault. Besides it's where you live now, nobody says you have to lay anchor here. You're going places Miss Whitley and this isn't forever."
She sighed heavily and tried to believe him but the odds weren't in her favor, her father wasn't going to shell out the money for her to go to college. She'd been told by her stepmother on several occasions that she would be able to get a job at the club with her, stripping or waiting tables. The thought of taking off her clothes for a stranger made Belle shudder.
"Thank you, for the ride."
"You're welcome."
She opened the car door and hurried out of the vehicle, rushing to the rundown building she called home. She hurried up the staircase, passed the homeless people who were milling about and into her apartment. Leaning against the door she allowed herself just a few seconds to try and breathe.
"BELLE! WHERE'S DINNER?!"