19
Landon
After spring break, my truancy scaled new levels of don’t-give-a-f*ck. Mr Quinn was disappointed in me – he’d told me so every time he handed back a failing or near-failing test or sent me to detention for skipping. But there were some days I just wasn’t going to sit across a table from Melody Dover.
Ditching class eventually results in in-school suspension, because in public school, a body present and accounted for means money from the state. Exiled to a secluded room, you’re given a shit ton of work that no one can make you do. A front-office secretary babysits you. You’re allowed to sleep all day, though they occasionally jostle your shoulder and tell you not to sleep. All of this, of course, is for your own good.
The last time she sentenced me to ISS, Ingram informed me that one more unexcused absence would result in my expulsion, and even an excused absence would result in my being held back a year instead of being promoted to the next grade. No f*cking way I wanted to be stuck there for an extra year. In the last month of school, I had to attend every class, which blew. I passed by the skin of my teeth, Grandpa would have said.
I worked for my dad on the boat, but he handed me cash that didn’t amount to minimum wage, so I supplemented with a second job. Rick Thompson had become one of the most sought-after guys in town. His popularity was due to two things: drugs, and girls he called party favours – who brought in business and were paid in drugs. Thanks to frat guys, teen guys looking for something non-family to do on their family vacations, and grown men who were stupid enough to be lured by high-school girls, Thompson made serious bank.
He began allowing for lines of credit from locals. Now and then, somebody either got in too deep or resold in his territory without giving him a cut.
That’s where Boyce and I came in.
Boyce had mostly quit picking on girls and smaller kids, though that had little to do with becoming more perceptive. The first got him laid more often – obvious incentive, and the second was due solely to the fact that I didn’t like it. His prior bully reputation preceded him, though, and after my Hulk-out during the fight with Richards, the added benefit of mental instability made me almost as menacing as my best friend. Luckily, Thompson didn’t have many problems, so most of the time, we were just there to make sure people did what he wanted them to do – pay him.
In return, he paid us. Sometimes in drugs, sometimes in money. All we had to do to be on his payroll was be intimidating and beat the shit out of the occasional dumbass. Boyce, bigger than me, typically handled the first. I handled the second – and I enjoyed it.
‘You don’t have to be in here,’ I said. ‘We don’t need you f*cking fainting or some shit.’
Boyce threw his hands in the air, as if he hadn’t made gagging sounds while Arianna lined up the huge curved needle. ‘If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t stay,’ he said.
I stared at his paler-than-usual face with a straight-up blank expression.
He rolled his eyes and went back out front.
Five minutes later, I had a ring through my lip.
‘Sexy ma-aaan,’ Boyce sang while I paid. He was fine once the needles were put away.
‘Want one, Wynn? I’m paying.’
‘Fu-uuuck no-oooo,’ he sang, adding a hip-swivelling dance move. ‘My sexiness is a Wynn-win without pokin’ holes in my ski-iin.’
Arianna shook her head and handed me my change.
‘Oh, God. Stop,’ I said.
‘See what I did there?’ he asked, unrepentant.
LUCAS
‘You already knew, didn’t you?’ I couldn’t look at her.
‘Yes.’
I wanted to know how long she’d known and how she found out, but neither of those things were important. I made myself face her anger. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘Why didn’t you?’
I couldn’t blame her. I couldn’t answer her.
She wanted to know how it was that I went by two names.
‘Landon is my first name, Lucas the middle. I go by Lucas … now. But Charles – Dr Heller – has known me a long time. He still calls me Landon.’ My throat narrowed when I searched for the words to explain why I’d made that change, so I said nothing. The fact remained that I could have told her and hadn’t.
‘You lied to me.’ Her eyes snapped blue fire.
I stepped off the bike and took hold of her shoulders, desperate to make her see that I’d never meant to hurt her. I insisted I’d never called myself Landon – that was her assumption, but Jesus Christ if that wasn’t the most spineless excuse I’d ever voiced. I had known all along what she believed to be true, and I hadn’t corrected her perceptions.
She shrugged out of my grasp and I looked into her eyes. The betrayal there sliced me open. I had to let her go.
‘You’re right, this was my fault. And I’m sorry.’ My hands shook and I knotted them at my sides. I steeled myself and took a breath. ‘I wanted you, and this couldn’t happen as Landon. Anything between us is against the rules, and I broke them.’
I had to make this right with Charles – first and foremost, for the inviolability of her grade. She’d done the work, and I couldn’t let her be punished for my deception. My desire to restore the trust of the man who’d been my saviour in my darkest hours was secondary. I couldn’t consider, now, what I would do if I’d lost that trust entirely.
‘So it’s just over,’ she said, and I came back to myself.
‘Yes,’ I answered, bleeding out at her feet. My ears were ringing. I knew I’d spoken the word, but I couldn’t hear it.
She did.
She turned and went inside, and when she’d disappeared, I went home to face the consequences of what I’d done.
I wanted you … I wanted you … I wanted you. I heard the refrain of my words all the way, like a vinyl track with a scratch, repeating. And then hers: It’s just over … over … over.
It was nearly one a.m. when I slipped through the back door. Heller sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, his gradebook and Jacqueline’s paper. The only light came from the stovetop and the small lamp over the table. The rest of the house was silent.
I took a seat across from him and waited. In all the times I’d cooled my heels across a desk from a frustrated teacher or my small-minded principal, I’d never felt this bone-deep remorse, or this exhaustive disappointment with myself.
As soon as I was seated, he asked, ‘Did you assist her in producing this paper?’
I shook my head. ‘I offered her research sources, and I checked her conclusions and citations. But she wrote the paper.’
‘Same as you would have done for anyone I’d assigned this project to.’
I sighed. ‘Yes, but –’
‘Son, let me help you unhook yourself where I can.’ He grimaced, our eyes connecting. ‘If I’d assigned this paper to another student in the class, would you have given that student the same help?’
I nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Did she ask you for additional advantage or any kind of grade revision because you two were … involved?’ His eyes didn’t leave mine.
I licked my lip, and sucked the ring into my mouth. ‘She … didn’t know I was the class tutor.’
His frown intensified and he squinted, confused.
‘I met Jacqueline outside of class, before you assigned her the make-up work and gave her my email address. She knew me as Lucas, but you called me Landon. I never met her in person as her tutor – we conducted all of that through email, because our schedules didn’t work for meeting up.’
He quirked a brow and my face heated.
‘Um, during regular, daytime hours.’
‘So you didn’t know, until I asked you to assist her with catching up, that she was in the class –’
‘I knew.’
He sighed. ‘She thought you were in the class – but didn’t know you were the tutor.’
I nodded.
He pulled off his glasses and closed his eyes, heaving a sigh. ‘So you conducted this entire dual – relationship – lying to her about who you were. And she didn’t know until tonight.’
‘Right.’ I swallowed, but the guilt didn’t go down easily. I hadn’t intended to lie additionally tonight, but this lie protected Jacqueline. I didn’t know why she hadn’t confronted me once she knew or suspected. I didn’t even know how long she’d known. But it wouldn’t look good that she’d known and continued the relationship.
I had no choice but to protect her – doing so had become a necessity, like breathing.
‘Landon –’ he waved a hand and corrected himself – ‘Lucas – why?’
How many times had I asked myself this question? ‘At first, it was because she was afraid of me – as Lucas. But not as Landon. Through email, she took me as you’d presented me – a knowledgeable upperclassman who would help her catch up in class. She was funny, and smart, and as Landon, I didn’t …’ I frowned at my hands. ‘I didn’t scare her.’
He cleared his throat. ‘Not to disaffirm your feelings … but she didn’t look all that frightened of you a few minutes ago.’
My lips pinned into a flat line.
‘Is there anything else you’d like to confess, before I decide what to do about this?’
Shit, I thought, as one more indiscretion popped into my head. ‘The quiz – I didn’t tell her about it, per se … but I may have hinted that you were giving one.’
He covered his eyes with his hand and sighed. ‘All right. I’ll speak with her Monday –’
‘Charles.’ I leaned into the table, clasping my hands in front of me like a supplicant. ‘This is my fault. All of it. She did nothing out of line – she’s worked hard to catch up. She wrote that paper unaided, as you wanted. If she’d have had a problem doing it, I might have been tempted to cross a line to help her. But that wasn’t the case. Please don’t penalize her for my bad judgement.’
He angled his head, gaze softening. ‘You admire this girl quite a bit, don’t you?’
I gave one quick nod.
‘You put her in a bad spot here, son. If I hadn’t known you all your life … I could be making a disciplinary decision for each of you based on how the situation looks. Appearances often carry more weight than the truth – but I think you know that.’ He sighed again, laying a palm over my tightly gripped hands. ‘Well. Can I trust you to limit yourselves to appropriate tutoring interactions for the last couple weeks of the semester? I need your word.’
I nodded again, my eyes stinging. I wasn’t worthy of his forgiveness. ‘Yes. I promise. I’m sorry I let you down, Charles. And her.’
He patted my hand before gathering the papers. ‘I’ll admit I’m frequently wrong about women – but it seems to me that lying to avoid present hassle just to postpone it for later is a bad idea. Lies have a way of compounding the problem – or coming back to bite you in the nuts, as Caleb would say.’
We both chuckled. ‘I guess I agree with Caleb there.’
‘Yeah, he’s pretty smart now. Give him a year or two. Once puberty whacks him hard enough, it’ll flush half his brain cells right down the tube.’
I didn’t look at Jacqueline Monday when she entered class. I didn’t look at her, if I could help it, all during class. I didn’t look at her when Heller said, ‘Ms Wallace, please see me for just a moment after class.’
Benjamin Teague glanced over his shoulder at me, though. A moment later, leaning close to Jacqueline, his head inclined in my direction, asking a question. She shook her head, but didn’t turn round.
I continued sending her the worksheets, my emails limited to: New worksheet attached, LM. She didn’t reply; I didn’t expect her to. I didn’t watch her enter or exit class, except to note that Moore escorted her out, and followed her from the building as well. She didn’t look at me, and I couldn’t blame her.
I allowed myself a few unguarded assessments of her during class Wednesday and Friday. She paid full attention to the lectures – no fidgeting or glancing over her shoulder. Except for taking notes, her hands were still. She was like an enchanted being who’d suddenly found herself earthbound and bereft of her magical powers, when nothing could be further from the truth. She’d conjured love in the heart of a man whose soul had been frozen for years, anaesthetized by too much pain and guilt to bear.
Jacqueline and Erin went to Ellsworth’s line when it came time to practise kicks. I didn’t watch her, but I was tuned to her frequency. I could hear her voice above everyone, even when she was no louder than anyone else, yelling, ‘No!’ as she landed a knee strike or kick, or laughing with her friend.
When Watts announced a break, I couldn’t stop myself from finding her, drinking her in. She looked up and our eyes connected, and everyone else vanished. There was only Jacqueline, standing on the other side of the room, her eyes a cloudless sky and her face flushed pink from exertion. Catching sight of her in that moment was like glancing out a window and happening upon a sunset – inadvertent, breathtaking, never before and never again.
Erin took her arm and steered her out into the hall to the women’s locker room or the water fountain, and I shook myself from my stupor to help Ellsworth arrange the equipment for the next round of drills, and then we padded up.
‘Make sure you get that shit on tight,’ he reminded me. ‘Fairfield got nailed in the junk last fall after some sloppy padding up. We’re teaching these ladies not to hold back and they don’t. I don’t think he could stand for a full fifteen minutes, poor bastard. I laughed till I cried, of course.’
When called back to order, the women separated into two groups, prepared for the bear hug assault, which was just what it sounded like. Then Watts said, ‘Don, Lucas, let’s have you two switch off, mix up the attacker tactics.’
This landed Jacqueline in my line, as well as my department admin, who volunteered to help demonstrate the move – a series of possible defences against being grabbed in a full body hug. Little wonder Jacqueline looked freaked and ready to make a dash for the door. I felt no different. I would have my arms all the way round her, in front of everyone, within the next few minutes.
I explained the moves – head butt, shin scrape, instep stomp, elbow to the midsection, and the hands-down class favourite every time, the balls-grabbing-twisting-yanking lawnmower. Watts came over and used me to demonstrate. ’Reach back and grab the goods, twisting and pulling straight out like you’re startin’ a lawnmower.’
He ended with, ‘Vvvvrrroom!’ The women howled with laughter, and I bit my lip and probably reddened when Watts asked them to please dramatize that move without fully enacting it, to ensure Ellsworth and I remained capable of future fatherhood.
One by one, the six women in my line took turns facing the others while I came up behind them and grabbed all the way round, banding my arms and pinning theirs. They used whichever of the defences they wanted to use, most doing a facsimile of the lawnmower at the end, complete with sound effect. Jacqueline’s friend, Erin, performed every single defence, full throttle. I smiled, imagining her attacker on the ground begging her to run away. Her group cheered while she asked, completely serious, if she should kick him before running away.
I liked this girl.
Finally, it was Jacqueline’s turn. I knew that her nervousness was because of me, and I was determined that she not be at a disadvantage because of that. She needed to learn these moves. She needed to feel the power behind performing them. She needed faith in herself, and it was my job to give that to her.
When my arms surrounded her, she froze. Dammit. My fault, my fault, my fault.
‘Hit me, Jacqueline,’ I prompted softly. ‘Elbow.’
She obeyed.
‘Good. Foot stomp. Head butt.’ I led her quietly, and she followed. ‘Lawnmower.’ She did the move, without the sound effect employed by the others.
I released her and she stumbled towards her group, who were cheering as if she’d medalled in an Olympic event. Erin enveloped her in a protective embrace, and I decided she was the worthiest friend my girl could have.
My girl.
The front bear hug rendered me dumbstruck. Even with the padding and the audience and the objective behind the interaction, I looked into her eyes, inches away, and felt my desire for her like a kick to the gut. Luckily, my body went on autopilot to imitate a full-body frontal assault, and she did the defence moves without prompts, attuned to the voices of her group’s enthusiastically shouted directives and calls of encouragement.
One more week of economics classes.
One more self-defence module.
Over.