Chapter Twenty-Six
Awaking before her alarm the next morning, she held too much anticipation to even attempt to sleep. She had to apologize to Erin for everything that had happened before. Whether or not it mattered, she had to tell her how she really felt.
She wasn’t surprised to see Keegan already settled behind her desk when she arrived. In her hands, she gripped an adjusted schedule ready for her, color coded according to priority in case she had to cancel anything later.
“Good morning,” Keegan said, beaming as she handed the schedule over to her.
“Good morning.”
“You look better.”
“Is she in?” Julia whispered over the desk. She never was good at the art of subtleness.
“It’s about time you got your priorities right,” she smirked. “Her schedule is blocked off for most of the day. I think she’s finishing up last-minute workshops with the English department for the new tutoring program, and then she’s meeting with the board later.”
Julia sighed. “I’ll try to catch her at the end of the day.”
But the end of the day did not come quickly; it dragged on like cold winter nights. Julia casually walked past Erin’s office numerous times, but she was either gone or talking to someone behind a closed door.
Between loops, Julia sat with piles of the same paperwork from yesterday, still untouched. She listened as the black clock above the door tick, tick, ticked until she could hear it echoing in her ears even after she left the room.
She tried to focus but she couldn’t. It was a balloon in her chest–expanding and expanding and expanding–and she felt like she couldn’t breathe until she let the air out. So she watched the clock move closer and closer towards the last bell. Just as it rang she stood to head towards the door, but a shape appeared before it first.
“Ah, Dr. Jenner, I have a little treat for you.” Mr. Woodsten, the math teacher, gently guided a male student into her office. “Tyler here thought it was a wise decision to vape in the hallway by his locker. Third time this week,” he tsked.
Mr. Woodsten crossed his arms across his chest and let out a puff of air. Tyler slumped into the chair by the door and pulled his red hood tight around his face in defiance.
“Mr. Motler,” Julia sighed, “didn’t we just have this conversation?”
“Pst,” he huffed with a cluck of his tongue. “I’ll be eighteen in two weeks. This is stupid.”
“Thank you, Mr. Woodsten.” Julia nodded as he turned to walk away. “Let’s call mom again,” Julia said to Tyler. “You know the consequence for a third offense is suspension.”
“Oh, come on, Dr. J!” He pulled his hood down as he pleaded, “don’t do this to me. My dad will kill me!” His dad would most certainly not lay a hand on him, but their stern talking-tos were just as threatening.
“Tyler, you knew what would happen if you repeated this behavior,” Julia sighed. She hated this part of the job–the part where no matter how much of a firm hand you have, there are some that just have to learn the hard way. “You earned this.”
So, she sat there and spoke to Mrs. Motler again, explaining that Tyler would not be allowed back the next day. His eyes went wide as his mother openly berated him from across the phone. He would have online tutoring to do from home while he considered his actions, and Julia had an inkling he’d rather be at school.
“And you’ll be explaining this to your father later,” Mrs. Motler’s voice cut through the phone.
After the whole situation subsided, she began to pack up her things. With her briefcase in one hand and her jacket in the other, her heels tapped down the hallway towards Erin’s office.
The door was closed and the lights were off. Julia knocked, but there was no answer. She picked up her phone and opened Erin’s contact. She began to type a text, her fingers sprawling across blue letters, but stopped.
What would she say? At that point, she didn’t have the right to ask her how she was doing. She left Erin thinking she was the one who did something wrong, when it wasn’t her who was the problem.
She walked to the parking lot hoping to see her car, but it was gone. Of course, this was the one night she got out of there on time.
Julia rubbed her forehead with a fistful of car keys. She pulled out her phone and pulled Erin’s number up again.
Julia – 4:09 p.m.
Hey, are you free tonight? Can we talk?
That was subtle enough. Sure, that would do it. As Erin’s three little dots appeared and then disappeared, and then appeared and then disappeared, she knew it wasn’t enough. Erin left her on read, and she deserved it.
So, she did the only thing she could: she went home, drank a few glasses of white wine, and tried to fall asleep to the sound of the humming from the overhead fan. She laid in the cool sheets, but she couldn’t slow down her mind or racing heart.
So much had changed. She wasn’t even the same person. She’s not weighed down by all the regrets of the last twenty years anymore, not clinging to a past that can no longer shine light into the present.
Time ticked on, but sleep didn’t come. She rolled over to the side of the bed, staring at the outside light peeking through the curtains. The canvas in the corner, still unfinished, caught her eye. With the combination of her angled body, her weary eyes, and the thin sliver of light spraying over the canvas, she could almost see something in it.
Crawling from beneath the sheets, she approached the portrait in front of her. Tracing the olive brushstrokes with her finger the shape, the tone, the brightness felt through each blended line, radiated from the canvas. She knew exactly what it was–what it was meant to be from the very start.
Sitting on that cold stool again, she dotted her pallet with the same colors, tinting them before gliding the brush in broad strokes across the landscape. She softened her angles, dragging golden brown twirls down the canvas. She created two sparkling pools of emerald jewels, small white specks glinting off an invisible light.
She didn’t stop moving–didn’t allow the strained muscles in her hand to slow her down. Her mind spilled out onto the canvas, her chest heaving with tired breaths. And when she placed the paintbrush and pallet to her side, she allowed her hands to collapse into her lap.
She was spent, every ligament exhausted with years of burdens holding them down. But now? Now that she looked at the creation before her? She was weightless–a single feather floating in the summer breeze.
The painting before her wasn’t a crisp landscape. It wasn’t an abstract full of devoid lines. It was what it has always been meant to be: Erin. It was from the very start. From the moment she met her–that spark in her chest–it would always be Erin.
Knowing that–knowing that her heart finally found the right pathway to her brain–she fell back into the fluff of her comforter, and once again fixated on the spinning fan above her.
***
“Hey!” a voice shouted at her from the parking lot the next afternoon. “Are you getting out of here early?”
“Keegan,” Julia gasped in surprise. “Yeah,” she lied. “I could use some rest.”
“I like this new Julia,” she said with a smile, meeting her from across the parking lot.
“Do you know where Erin is?” she asked reluctantly.
Keegan’s shoulders slumped just slightly, completely unnoticeable to anyone else.
“Oh, honey. She left before the bell,” she sighed. “I thought she would’ve checked in with you first.”
“No,” Julia exhaled. “I haven’t seen her in days.”
“Did you try calling her?”
“She didn’t answer my text.”
“Maybe she’s busy?”
“She’s completed her reports,” she dropped her eyes to the ground, “she’s done here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I screwed things up,” Julia admitted. “Like, royally.” Keegan just shrugged her shoulders dramatically, like she was used to Julia being a screwup. Julia reached out and shoved one side. “Hey!”
“I’m joking.” She held her hands up, ready for another jostle.
She could’ve had a chance with Erin. Lord knows she gave Julia enough opportunities to make a move. She wasn’t sure if Erin wanted that anymore, if she ever wanted anything more than a temporary because she constantly was too hardheaded to have that conversation.
That was when it hit her like a bullet in the night. There were no more maybes. She didn’t want temporary. She couldn’t. The last few months were a game of tug and war; Julia retreating to safety behind her white line while the rope pulled them closer and closer together.
“I think,” Julia gulped, “I’m falling in love with Erin.”
Her chest rose and fell higher than it ever had before, which is saying a lot based on the last few months she experienced. Saying it aloud was bittersweet, the aftertaste of a tart cherry. It made her feel so light, so much of the pressure she put on herself lifted away, but it also twisted her intestines into an unimaginable pretzel.
“Not just falling for her? Falling in love with her?” Keegan clarified, her mouth agape. Julia just nodded slowly, her throat tightening with every labored breath. “Have you been holding that in this entire time? Or is this a panic induced reaction to that night?”
“Both,” Julia blurted. “This all has reminded me that there is no such thing as all the time in the world, and I don’t want to keep watching it pass me by.”
Julia’s eyes stung, and she blinked out little tears. Keegan swatted her arm.
“For a best friend, you sure keep a lot of shit to yourself!” she shouted, and then she fell into Julia, hugging her. “I love you, even if you’re a dipshit sometimes.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Julia confessed, walking closer towards their cars. Keegan stopped as she approached Julia and leaned against the dirty exterior.
“As much as I’d love to have this conversation in this freezing air,” and then she chuckled, “that’s a lie. I don’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the parking lot. But remember that time I said you were an idiot?”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Can you take anything seriously? I’m freaking out!”
“You are an idiot!” she scoffed. “What do you mean, you don’t know what to do? There’s only one thing to do: tell her. Go after her.”
“But she’s leaving,” she sighed, leaning her tired body against the car. “She can’t stay here and I’m too old for long distance.”
“You’re too stubborn,” she corrected, “not too old.” She smirked as Julia rolled her eyes again. “Tell her,” she begged quietly. “Even if it doesn’t result in the outcome you hope for, you have to tell her.”
For once, Julia knew she was right.
***
“Dr. Jenner!” a voice called from the hall.
Julia froze with her key in the latch of her door, her briefcase in one hand and her jacket hanging off her shoulder. She didn’t even remember getting home last night. It seemed like the cars and yellow lights flew past her in a haze–an insignificant detail in a dream.
That morning she could barely settle the buzzing within her stomach, not able to finish even her first cup of coffee. She was too nervous, brought back to the anxiety of middle school when she had to ask a boy down the road to the Sadie Hawkins dance when really she wanted to ask her neighbor, Ceclia. How was she back to the I think I like you stage? Does it ever end!
“Dr. Jenner!” a voice repeated as heavy footsteps grew closer.
“Mr. Woodsten.” Julia turned towards the teacher as her door opened before her. “You’re here early,” she said as she smiled, hiding her disdain. “Is everything okay?”
“I just wanted to follow up regarding Tyler,” he stated very matter-of-factly. “I know that he–”
“Yes, Mr. Woodsten.” Julia nodded in agreement. “I know you have had several situations with him that you had to bring to my attention. He is currently in out-of-school suspension and I will be following up with his parents next week.”
“Great, because he has really–”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Woodsten. I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a conference to get to this morning,” she spoke tactfully. “I would be more than happy to discuss your concerns further at another point. If you see Mrs. Morrow before you head to class, she’ll ensure we can speak soon.”
He grunted and gave a fake smile, his frustration not well hidden.
“Of course, Dr. Jenner,” he sputtered, nodding as he turned towards the hall.
When Julia stepped into her office, she closed the door with a gasp of relief. Since being back the day before, her door was a revolving escalator of teachers with student concerns, behavior issues, complaints about cut programs, or additional duties. Sometimes it was someone with a qualm about each.
Usually she’d welcome them with open arms, always willing to step in when times get tough, but she had too much on her plate. Her position didn’t allow her the luxury of taking a few days off without consequence, without the daily work of her life piling around her. Even with her to-do list and unread email list growing to the length of The Great Wall of China, she had to take care of something else first. She had to put herself first.
Julia - 6:58 a.m.
Can we meet for lunch today, please?
Her fingers hovered over that send button again, fighting the looming feeling of being a bother, but she pressed it anyways. Erin’s three blue dots fluttered on the screen, the message open and read. The three dots appeared, her unseen fingers floating on letters across the screen. Then they were gone. Again.
Julia - 7:02 a.m.
You have every right not to want to talk to me, Erin. But please. I really need to see you.
She opened her office door, hanging her jacket and setting down her bag behind her desk. Like a child waiting to be caught with her hand in a cookie jar, she peeked around the corner before emerging. She didn’t want another bombardment. When the coast was clear she made her way to Keegan in the front.
“Good morning,” Keegan said through a smile, holding out another coffee for Julia.
She knew she’d need it–knew she wouldn’t have gotten any sleep the night before with the thought of, possibility of, Erin expanding within her mind.
“Morning.” Julia smiled back. “Is she here?”
Keegan’s eyes dimmed underneath the bulk-buy fluorescent bulbs. She looked at the schedule before her, holding her tongue as if she wasn’t sure what to say next.
“Keegan–”
“She’s not coming in today,” she confessed quietly. She didn’t meet Julia’s eyes, the disappointed desperation widening with every second.
“What do you mean? I thought today was her last day?” Julia got both questions out in one unsteady breath.
“It is.” She shook her head in frustration. “It was,” she sighed. Julia just looked at her, her eyebrows pulled towards her forehead. “She finished everything she had to contractually.” She paused, the silence becoming unbearable. The finality of that statement sunk in like wet concrete.
“She’s not coming back?” Julia’s voice wavered. Even though every spoken word shook, the way her breath exhaled made it sound like a statement she knew was true.
“I think she’s heading home,” Keegan said solemnly. “She rescheduled her flight for this morning.”
Julia froze, her voice stolen from her throat. She felt hot–the steam rising in her chest first and then slowly, excruciatingly, flushing her face. She waited too long. She didn’t take the time to look at herself and figure out what made her happy, what she actually deserved. Happiness. Love.
And now it was too late.