Chapter 15
MYLES
“See ya, Mr. M.” Jordan Smith flashes me a grin as he darts out the door just as the bell marking the end of third period rings.
Along with his completed assignment that I’ll drop in Janice’s box later, he’s left me with that growingly familiar feeling of satisfaction I get every time I know I’ve really helped out one of the kids who needs it most.
The truth is that I’d been dreading being the campus discipline guy when I’d taken this job, but without spending a fortune on gas driving somewhere with better options, it was pretty much the only thing available.
There was no way in hell I was going to take a job at the mill like dad did.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but going back and living in his house and having to face all the memories there was bad enough.
I didn’t need to throw taking on his old job into the mix.
What I’ve quickly realized though is that my job puts me in the position to be able to help the kids when they’re having a hard time finding a way out of whatever hole they were digging for themselves.
Yeah, they need to know what they were doing wasn’t cool, and sometimes they need to take steps to make up for it, but I also get to help them get past it so they can just get on with learning and growing up like they’re supposed to, not staying stuck in a loop of feeling like shit because they keep messing up.
Janice Dawson isn’t a bad person deep down.
Honestly, I think she’s really just so damn stressed out and ready to retire that she doesn’t know what a bitch she can be to the kids who push her buttons, which is pretty much all of them at this point, by the way.
She’ll be in here later, wringing her hands and telling me how she wants Jordan to be able to pass her class, but that he’s never going to if he won’t just pick up his pencil and actually write something instead of sitting, face planted into his desk with his earbuds blasting day after day.
Jordan’s reasoning when I asked him why he does it is simple.
Ms. Dawson yells at him and makes him feel like shit, so he blocks her out.
In the forty minutes I had him in here with me, I’d gotten him to write the three paragraphs he’s apparently been refusing to work on for the past week and a half.
A knock at my door makes me look up, expecting Jordan back for something he’s forgotten, or maybe Janice, here to check up on what he got done. Next second though, a weird little thrill buzzes through me, making my pulse kick up a notch when, instead of either of them, my eyes land on Charlie.
“Can I come in?”
There’s a touch of awkwardness still, but it’s a fraction as much as before our dinner two Saturdays ago.
Since then, we haven’t seen each other outside of work, but the two of us stop and talk in the halls every chance we get.
There’s no denying that it’s nowhere near enough for me and nowhere near our old friendship that I’d give anything to have back, but it’s something.
“Always.” I probably sound way too weighty and sincere for what the moment calls for, but either he doesn’t notice, or it was actually a good thing and set him a bit more at ease, because he doesn’t hesitate to cross the room and sink into the chair across my desk from me.
“I saw Jordan on his way out,” he tells me. “Is everything okay with him?”
It’s no surprise, but I love how much Charlie cares about his students. They know it too. Even on the couple occasions he’s had to send one of them out of his class, they’ve never carried the kind of disdain or hurt with them I see so often when another teacher sends them to me.
“Janice sent him.”
Charlie sighs. “I heard her yelling through the wall again at the start of third period. I’m guessing that was at him?”
“Yup. Apparently he wouldn’t do his work.”
He sighs again, more heavily. “He hates her class, but he’s such a sweet kid if you just give him a chance.”
“I know.” I hold up the completed assignment for Charlie to see, and a smile breaks through the heavy look on his face.
“You got him to do all of that?” His eyes widen as they skim down the page. “You’re amazing, and the kids love you. You know that, right?”
He looks back up at me from the scrawled paragraphs, and something more than the satisfaction of having helped Jordan out warms me.
“They love you too.” He shrugs, but I’m not about to let him get away with downplaying the impact he’s making here. “Do you know how often they come in here, pissed off because of something like what happened with Janice today, demanding why all the teachers can’t just be more like Mr. Lancaster?”
“I just—”
“Take them seriously? Treat them like they matter? Hear them out? Make learning fun? Don’t yell at them? You’re exactly what they need, Charlie.”
He looks a little dumbstruck, and I realize that damn overly sincere tone is back in my voice. Why do I have to go and make everything so heavy with him?
Then suddenly it clicks that he’d come here for something in particular. It’s not like he just stopped by to hang out with me during his planning period which, yeah, I do happen to know is now.
“Sorry, you didn’t come by just to chat. You needed something from me, right?”
His face falls, going way too still all of a sudden, and my stomach clenches.
“It’s that bad? Whose ass do I need to park in a month’s worth of detention? Mickey Dutch? I’ll have him scraping gum off the bottom of all the desks in the school for the next—”
He’s laughing now, and while that was what I was going for, and despite the fact that I’m way more into helping the kids learn and grow than slapping punishments on them, I’m not kidding about what I’ve just said. No one makes Charlie look like he was looking a second ago, all tense and—
“Ohmigod,” he laughs. “Mickey’s not even here today.”
“Then who? You’ve gotta tell me why you’re here.”
His laughter cuts off as quickly as it started. “Uh,” he hesitates, looking down at my desk. “You know, never mind. It’s not—”
“Charlie, I was just joking. I’m not going to blow things out of proportion. What’s going on?”
Pink spreads under the light freckles covering his cheeks. “That, um, that was what I was doing.”
“Blowing things out of proportion?” Somehow, I highly doubt that.
He shakes his head. “No. Coming by just to chat, not about work. But you’re busy and—”
The surge of excitement and warmth that rushes through me leaves my head spinning, and the grin that breaks across my face is so big, it hurts.
“I’m not busy.” I lean back in my chair, away from my desk, crossing my arms over my chest, like getting myself as far from my computer as possible is going to prove how very not busy I am.
Charlie’s answering smile is too bright for words. It makes his pink cheeks lift right up to his ridiculously green eyes and goes straight to my heart. God, just a few weeks ago, I’d thought I’d never have the chance to see that smile again, let alone be the one responsible for it.
“I guess I didn’t really mean chat, chat.
Because I do have to get back to my classroom.
Tests—” he waves his hand back over his shoulder in the direction of the hall.
“There’s grading I have to do before fifth period starts, and like three kids are out sick today with that cold, flu thing that’s going around, so I’ve got to make up homework packets for them.
“But I’d wanted to ask,” he lifts his eyebrows, looking so on edge that it makes my pulse do strange, skipping things.
I tuck my hands tighter, each under the opposite arm, because I’ve got the weirdest impulse right now to reach out across my desk and close my hand around his. Just so he won’t look so worried…
“Do you want to come over to my place tonight? We can have dinner and just catch up some more.” The lift of his eyebrows turns from edgy to hopeful, then just as quickly to joking. “And I promise there’s no splitting horrendous piles of firewood involved this time.”
“I can’t.” Disappointment has me spitting out the words before I have a chance to think them through.
“It was short notice.” He shrugs, trying way too hard to keep his smile up. Like my eyes can x-ray right into his mind, I can see him trying to work out whether he’s just messed things up by asking me.
“No! I mean, yeah, short notice.” God, why am I babbling? Except, fuck, hadn’t I just said no one gets to make Charlie get all tense and worried? Now, all I want is to explain so I can make that look on his face go away.
And all of a sudden, my mind’s right back to one of the many things I haven’t been able to get out of it ever since our talk after dinner two weekends ago.
While I didn’t give Charlie the chance to come out and directly tell me that I was right and he’d had feelings for me all those years ago, I’d seen the moment he’d been about to admit it.
He’d looked like he’d felt like he had to do it though, and so I’d pushed on and stopped him before he’d been able to.
Which only left me wondering, what are his feelings for me now? Not that it makes any difference in how I feel about being his friend, obviously. Just like I’d tried—maybe too hard—to make sure he understood. God, I’d made it awkward, hadn’t I?
Whether it had been too much and I really had made it awkward, I had meant every word I’d said. Still doesn’t mean I’m not just a little curious…
Not that it matters, but it’s only natural to wonder, right?
Except right now’s not the time for that.