My homework had built up over the last few days, and I was very behind in
everything
. I knew Maria, a ‘friend’ in many of my classes stayed in the library after school hours to study, so she asked if I wanted to join her. I agreed, as I didn’t have work that afternoon.
It was terribly boring. We sat in silence, scribbling away. She helped me with a few of the questions. Maria was a straight ‘A’ student.
‘What a way to spend a Friday afternoon,’ I grumbled.
‘Have you spoken to Sadie recently?’ Maria asked, flipping through her math book.
‘No.’ Honestly, I’d been avoiding her for the last few days. I was mad at her, but she wasn’t to know that.
‘She’s been telling everyone that Mr. Stone gave her a ride home on Monday.’
My grip tightened around my pen. ‘Oh.’
‘She said he couldn’t stop staring at her tits.’
‘She’s lying,’ I said at once.
‘How do you know?’ asked Maria.
‘C’mon,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘You know Sadie. She’s always flaunting them. It’s hard to
not
look at them.’
Maria smiled sheepishly. ‘You’re right, I guess. I hope she doesn’t do anything stupid.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, putting my pen down.
Maria shrugged. ‘You know what she’s like. If she wants something, she gets it.’
This annoyed me greatly. ‘Well Mr. Stone isn’t an idiot. I bet he can see right through her.’
Maria shrugged. Clearly she wasn’t as interested in the topic of Mr. Stone as I was.
‘I have to go,’ said Maria, stacking her books. ‘I have clarinet practice in half an hour.’
‘Oh, all right. Thanks for your help,’ I said, remaining in my seat.
I watched as Maria stuffed her textbooks into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. ‘See you later Rose. Bye Mrs. Finnick,’ she added to the librarian, a sweet old lady in her sixties.
So I was left in the library. Slowly, the other students began to pack up and leave until there were only a few stragglers left.
‘The library will be closing in ten minutes, dear,’ said Mrs. Finnick, bustling past with an arm full of books.
‘Okay,’ I said. There was no more I could do. I began to pack up my things, stuffing my pen and whiteout into my pencil case.
Now it was only myself and the librarian left, but she was currently out of sight, stacking books upon shelves. I could hear her feet shuffling along the carpet somewhere at the back of the library.
The doors opened, and Mr. Stone entered with a book in his hands. I watched him as he placed it into the ‘returns’ chute at the front desk. I wanted to call out to him, but I was still embarrassed about our last encounter. He must have felt my eyes upon him because his gaze suddenly slid towards me.
The grin that broke across his face was heart melting. He was usually smiling but
this
was different; he looked genuinely pleased to see me.
He crossed the library, walking towards the desk I was sitting at.
‘Catching up on homework?’ he asked.
I nodded, swallowing hard, as if
something was stuck in my throat, preventing me from talking.
‘What are you working on?’ he asked.
I looked down at the textbook that was sprawled in front of me. ‘Math,’ I said.
‘Ah. I’m afraid I can’t help you there,’ he smiled. ‘Math was never my strong suit.’
‘Me either,’ I sighed, leaning back in my chair. ‘I’m terrible at it.’
‘I’m sure you’re not that bad,’ he said, leaning on the back of a chair.
I rifled through my papers, pulling out my most recent math test. I handed it to him and he looked down at the grade written in big red letters.
‘D minus,’ he read. ‘Okay, so maybe you
are
terrible at it.’
I laughed. ‘It just doesn’t stick with me,’ I admitted.
‘Maybe if you didn’t daydream so much,’ he said, handing the test back to me.
‘I don’t daydream,’ I lied.
He cocked an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. ‘You get this glazed look over your eyes all the time. Sometimes I worry you’re having a stroke.’
I rolled my eyes and continued packing up my books. As I slung the bag over my shoulder, Mr. Stone looked around to make sure we were alone.
‘Can I give you a ride home?’ he asked.
My knees felt weak. ‘Are you sure that’s wise?’
‘Everyone has gone home for the day,’ he replied. ‘I’ll drive around the corner and you can meet me there.’
There was something about his desire for secrecy that made my skin prickle. ‘Okay,’ I agreed.
I left the library before Mr. Stone, who exited a few paces behind me. He walked towards the teacher’s car park as I exited through the front gates.
As I walked along the school’s road I felt as
if I was in a dream, or a visitor in another person’s body. I couldn’t feel my legs as I walked. Perhaps I was floating. I had to check my feet to make sure they weren’t transparent.
Mr. Stone’s car rumbled past and turned the corner where I knew he’d be waiting for me. I glanced around; the school’s street was almost deserted. Only a few students lingered out the front of the school but they hadn’t paid me any attention.
His car idled beside the curb, and I quickly ran to it, jumping inside and closing the door. I felt as though I was breaking the law, simply by being with him. He pulled away at once and sped down the street a little too fast for my liking. I gripped the door-handle, feeling extremely tense.
‘You took Sadie home on Wednesday,’ I said as we trundled along.
‘I know. I was there,’ he replied.
I didn’t smile at his joke. I was jealous, but I didn’t want him to know that.
‘What did she say to you?’ I asked.
‘Nothing important,’ he replied a little too quickly.
‘Yeah right,’ I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
‘What was I supposed to do?’ he chuckled. ‘The girl wanted a lift home-’
‘You could have said no.’
‘And let her walk home in the dark? Any decent person would have obliged.’
I glared at him, and for the first time since I’d got in the car, he glanced my way. Seeing my expression seemed to slacken his resolve.
‘She talked about class,’ he said finally. ‘And how much she enjoyed the way I taught.’
‘She likes you,’ I said at once.
Mr. Stone shifted uncomfortably, but did not respond.
‘Did she flirt with you?’ I asked.
He chewed the inside of his lip. ‘I think so.’
‘You think so?’ I repeated.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, a little annoyed. ‘I don’t have a manual on the way girls mind’s work.’
‘Well, what did she
do
?’ I asked.
‘She kept doing this.’ He indicated to his chest, trying to represent breasts. ‘She kept pulling her top down to reveal more … cleavage.’
I almost laughed at how awkward he was. What grown man couldn’t talk about breasts?
‘She does that,’ I said. ‘She’s very popular with the boys.’
‘She’s just a girl,’ said Mr. Stone. ‘A child.’
A child
. Sadie was two months older than I. Did he think I was a child too?
‘She’s had sex,’ I said. ‘Most girls in my grade have.’
‘Have you?’ he asked, seemingly shocked by his own question.
I stared at him in disbelief.
‘I shouldn’t have asked that,’ he said at once.
‘No,’ I said.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘No … I mean … I’m a virgin.’
Mr. Stone glanced at me quickly before focusing on the road again. ‘You’re not like the other girls,’ he said. ‘You’re different.’
‘Am I?’ I asked, my fist curling around my backpack. Why was he torturing me like this?
He nodded, and I could see beads of sweat forming on his brow. He was not comfortable with me, or this conversation. He looked like a frightened puppy, trapped in a room with a violent owner.
His silence made me feel dizzy. I wanted to reach over and place my hand on his, but I was a coward. I wouldn’t be able to handle his rejection.
Before I knew it, we were at my house, and I was disappointed to find that both of my parent’s cars were pulled into the driveway.
‘Looks like someone is home,’ said Mr. Stone, shrinking in his chair.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘They never pay me much attention.’
‘You don’t talk about your parents very fondly,’ he said with a frown.
I shrugged. ‘They’re … busy.’
Busy cheating on each other
, I thought.
Mr. Stone leaned across me and opened the glove compartment. I watched as he dug through the assortment of unusual things in there; a bow tie, sunglasses, breath-mints, crumpled receipts, pens, and a notebook. He grabbed the notebook and tore out a page, scribbling something upon it. He handed the page to me and I looked at what he’d written.
‘It’s my cell phone number,’ he said.
I stared at the digits as though they were the most valuable things I’d ever seen.
‘If you ever need someone to talk to,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’ I pocketed the paper.
‘I’ll … see you on Monday,’ said Mr. Stone, chewing on his lip.
‘Thanks for the lift,’ I said.
‘Anytime,’ he replied.
Be careful
, I thought.
I may take you up on that offer.
I hopped out of the car and gave him a last wave before running up the garden path.
When I entered my house I could hear talking coming from the dining room, so I went to find my parents.
They were sitting together, which was an unusual sight in itself, and they appeared to be in deep discussion.
‘Hey,’ I said, standing in the doorway, smiling.
‘Oh, hello Rose.’ My mother’s smile was strained.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, walking over to the dining table and picking an apple out of the fruit bowl. I looked to my father, who I hadn’t spoken to in a few days. He had large bags under his eyes, but he too was smiling.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ said my father, pointing to an empty chair. ‘Your mother and I would like to talk to you.’
I froze with the apple halfway to my mouth. ‘What have I done?’
‘Nothing,’ my mother reassured me. ‘Sit.’
I did as I was told and slid into the vacant seat, looking between my parents.
‘There’s something your mother and I would like to discuss with you, Rose,’ said my father, interlacing his fingers upon the tabletop.
‘What?’ I looked at him. ‘Has someone died?’
‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ said my father. ‘It’s difficult to say, so I’ll just come right out with it.’ He took a deep breath before continuing. ‘You probably saw this coming, but your mother and I have decided that it is best if we go our separate ways from now on. Of course, this doesn’t mean we love you any less, but it will affect your living arrangements from here on in.’
I stared at my father, before looking at my mother.
‘You’re getting a divorce?’ I asked her.
‘You seem surprised, dear,’ said my mother.
I wasn’t shocked, not really. I knew they’d both engaged in affairs right from the beginning of their marriage. I’d just assumed neither cared.
‘When did you decide this?’ I asked.
‘We decided it a couple of months ago,’ my father admitted.
‘
Months
?’ I repeated. ‘It took you this long to tell me?’
My father leaned back in his chair. ‘We needed to sort through some things before everything was made final. I’ve spent the last few weeks meeting with real estate agents, and looking for somewhere to live.’
‘You’re moving out?’ I asked. ‘But … this is your house too.’
‘We are going to sell this house, Rose,’ said my mother. ‘And split everything between us.’
‘But that means I have to move too,’ I said, becoming panicked. ‘I don’t want to move.’
‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Rose,’ said my father. ‘Your mother has decided to move into a two-bedroom apartment closer to work as she is happy with her job in the city.’ My mother’s office was a forty-five minute drive away from our current home.
‘Into the city?’ My mouth hung open in disbelief. The joys of my ride home with Mr. Stone were completely wiped from my mind.
‘I, on the other hand will be moving out of state to take a promotion I’ve been offered,’ my father finished.
‘Out of
state
?’
They both nodded in unison.
‘We feel you are old enough to make your own decisions, Rose,’ my father continued. ‘I know it’s hard with your … um … illness, but we want to make the transition as easy as possible for you. So it’s up to you where you live. Of course, you can visit the other parent on weekends-’