Chapter 29
twenty-nine
DECLAN
“Tyler, if you could stay behind for a minute?”
I’ve always had a soft spot for Tyler. He’s been a student of mine since his freshman year, and while he’s always been a bit of a troublemaker, he’s also always been dedicated to his schoolwork. Over the last month, since Quinn first brought up her concerns, I’ve also noticed that dedication disappear. He’s slowly been withdrawing into himself more and more, and where he used to have perfect attendance, he’s missed more days than he’s attended in the last month.
I know the school guidance counselor has gotten involved. She’s spoken with all his teachers individually and as a team, but nothing we’ve done has gotten him to open up. And as far as I know, no one has been able to reach his mother.
“Yes, Mr. Day?” He refuses to look at me, keeping his head down so his hair falls in his eyes, something I’ve noticed he does a lot lately.
“Talk to me, Tyler.” I lean against my desk, trying to portray a relaxed manner when it’s the last thing I’m feeling.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Tyler, I’ve known you going on three years now. You’re a good kid. You’ve always made jokes in class, but you’ve always done your work. You’ve always attended class, and now I’m lucky if I see you at all,” I say softly. “I know something is going on. It doesn’t matter what it is. I won’t judge. I just want to help.”
He’s quiet for so long I don’t think he will say anything, but he does. “There’s nothing you can do, Mr. Day.”
“How do you know that?”
He’s quiet again, but not for nearly as long. “Because I don’t need help.”
I stand there a little longer, hoping he’ll tell me whatever it is if I wait long enough. None of us wants to report this to Child Protective Services, but I don’t think we will have a choice.
“Can I get a pass so I don’t get in trouble with my next class?”
I sigh but walk around my desk to write him the pass. “Promise me one thing.”
“What’s that, Mr. Day?”
“Promise me you'll come to me if you ever need help.” I hold the pass out to him but keep my grip on it. He finally gives me a small nod, and I release the pass, watching him leave.
I turn back to my desk to email the guidance counselor about the conversation. I know there’s nothing else she can do, short of reporting it, but I know we need to document all attempts at communication.
When I’m done, I pack up my stuff and head down the hall to Quinn’s classroom. I stop and lean against the doorway and watch her dance around to the music playing from her phone. We’ve spent almost every night over the last week together in her bed, and there’s no denying it any longer.
I am in love with her—her mind, her spirit, her body, all of it.
Even before I married Melissa, I wasn’t sure if I believed in soulmates and true love. I’m not sure I do now either, but if it exists, I’m pretty sure Quinn is it for me. She’s not perfect—I know that—but she is perfect for me, no matter how cheesy she would say that is.
I don’t know if she’ll stay when the worst happens, and her dad is gone. But I know even if she leaves, and even if it breaks my heart, I will never regret having this time with her.
“Declan!” Quinn shouts when she sees me in her doorway. “Come dance with me!” She rushes to me, pulling me into the classroom.
I laugh as I drop my bag to one of the tables before spinning Quinn, pulling her into my arms, and dancing around the classroom with her.
“You looked like you were thinking hard over there.”
“I tried talking to Tyler.” I pull her in closer, wanting to feel her body against mine.
She runs her fingers through the hair at the base of my neck almost absentmindedly. “It didn’t go well?”
“As well as you would expect.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” We’re quiet as we continue dancing in her classroom. “You’re not listening to Christmas music?”
She laughs. “No, I needed a break from it.”
The song switches to “Like Real People Do” by Hozier, and I pull Quinn in as close as I can, her head falling to my shoulder as we slowly dance in her classroom.
“Can we make sure we do this sometimes?” she says so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
“What? Dance in your classroom?” I mumble against the side of her head.
“Not necessarily the classroom part, but the dancing part, yeah.” She lifts her head to look at me. “I’d like to continue dancing with you.”
The look in her eye makes me think this is bigger than just dancing. But I won’t push her to talk about this, not with the look in her eye.
I simply nod and say, “Okay, we’ll keep dancing. Whether it’s in your classroom, in your living room or mine, we’ll keep dancing.”
“You’re coming to the courthouse on Friday, right?” Quinn asks later that night. She’s lying half on top of me, our legs tangled together with the sheets. I’ve been slowly tracing patterns across her bare back, but she’s been quiet for so long, I thought she’d fallen asleep already.
“Of course I’ll be there. I got Demitri to cover my fifth period class, so we can leave as lunch starts.”
She doesn’t say anything, and I think we’re done talking, but she eventually speaks again, softly saying, “Thank you.”
“Quinn, what’s going on?” I ask quietly, squeezing her. I know she’s right here, and she can’t just run from me, but she’s so quiet right now. I fear what she’s about to say.
“It’s nothing,” she whispers.
“Bug, we promised we’d talk to each other. I can hear it in your voice and feel it in your body. Something’s wrong.” I want to sit up to look at her, but I think that might make it worse. So instead, I place my hand on top of hers, resting on my chest, and flatten my hand on her back, gently holding her in place so she has no doubt I am here.
“I’m scared,” she finally says into the quietness.
“Of what?”
“Seeing her again.”
“You won’t be alone, and you don’t have to talk to her.”
“I know.” She’s quiet, but I know she wants to say more, so I wait patiently, letting her find the words. “I think I want to talk to her.”
“Okay.”
“It’s just … I know if I talk to her, things will change, no matter what she says.” She slowly lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. “What if it’s not for the better?”
“What if it is?” I counter. “I know change is scary, but sometimes it brings with it some of the best experiences.” I roll us, still holding her, so we’re lying on our sides and can easily look at each other. “Look at what’s changed in your life since moving back home. It hasn’t all been bad, has it?”
“No!” she says forcefully. “Of course, there’s been amazing things that came from that change.”
“Exactly.” I smooth her hair, needing to touch her. “That’s my point. You don’t know what might happen if you talk to her.” She nods her head slowly. “It’s entirely up to you. I’ll support you either way, and I’ll be by your side no matter what.”
“Why are you so good to me?”
Because I love you , but I know she’s not ready to hear those words so I say, “Because you’re important to me, and I care about you.”
She leans forward, pressing a fierce kiss to my lips as if trying to tell me she feels the same way I do. And boy, do I hope that’s true.