Chapter 31
Damien
Play - Medicine Bottle By Red House Painters
Be still
My student sits beside me quietly, one hand resting near the window, the other curled around her own sleeve. She hasn’t spoken since she got in. Neither have I. But it isn’t uncomfortable. She simply watches the campus disappear as I start the engine.
“Do you have a CD somewhere?” She finally asks after a few minutes.
“Yeah, you can pick one in there,” I say, pointing at the center console.
She looks at me and smiles, “Seriously?”
I nod and look back at her. “Unless you plan on sitting in silence for the entire drive.”
A small smile touches her mouth as she opens it and grabs a few of them. I keep my eyes on the road ahead, following the direction she gave me but I can’t help but notice the way she studies the titles.
She finally pulls one free and slides the disc into the player. The first song starts after a few seconds and a faint laugh escapes her throat.
“Figured it wasn’t yours,” she tells me, smiling like she caught me in a lie.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as she snaps her head to look at me.
“You’re grumpy most of the time, students are quite scared of you, so listening to a Red House Painters album feels…almost impossible.”
I look back at her and she’s holding that album I never saw or heard of, while the melody plays between us. “I’m not grumpy, I’m your professor, my job is to teach you things, and scare you at the same time.”
“Did you steal this car?” She asks seriously, looking around. I stare at her, confused, and she laughs, “What? The number of things that are screaming ‘I’m not supposed to be here’ is confusing.”
I laugh this time then reply, “Miss Vitelli, I have a life besides making the lives of a few students hell on earth.”
“Liar,” is the last thing she says before looking at the outside world.
She hums along to the music, tapping her fingers on her thigh, and I find it surprisingly relaxing. I glance over my shoulder once more, watching her place her forehead onto the window, looking out at the water before her attention drifts somewhere else entirely.
I don’t ask what she’s thinking, it’s none of my business. She’s here because I asked her to assist on a case, nothing more.
The heater has been running since we left St. Ellesta, it isn’t cold in the car.
I catch a small movement from the corner of my eye. She’s rubbing her thumb absently over the sleeve covering her wrist before slipping both hands beneath her arms.
“Are you cold?” I ask her.
She blinks, and I watch her eyelids flutter as she looks back at me. “I’m just a little tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
So it’s not a one-time thing…
“We still have a couple of minutes until we arrive, you can take a short nap until we get there.”
“No worries, I'm okay.”
I nod, not adding anything. But she’s already sleepy, and her eyes close quickly after that. The pacing of her heavy breathing fills the car and I turn down the music.
I stare at her again, taking in her sleeping form. It makes her exhaustion harder to ignore. I can see it in the corners of her eyes, in the way her shoulders never fully loosen, as though even unconscious she’s never resting fully. Sleep hasn’t won that battle yet.
I see the coffee shop ahead, but don’t stop once I reach it. I keep driving, taking the longer roads for an hour before stopping next to it.
I don’t wake her, because if she can sleep here, then she should.
She needs to be at full capacity for this case but also for the year waiting for her.
My eyes drift toward the passenger seat and stop at the look on her face.
Even asleep she looks troubled, her eyebrows are still furrowed, like she’s having a bad dream.
A kid passes next to the car and laughs too loudly and she almost jumps from her sleep with wide eyes and looks around before meeting my eyes.
“Hey. We’re still in the car.”
She straightens immediately, realization setting over her face.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
Her fingers tighten around her arm and she shakes her head slowly. “I wasted your time.”
“You were tired, Miss Vitelli.”
“Thank you,” she says and then I hear the belt unclip. Next thing I know, she’s already walking toward the coffee shop.