He could have. I was bound and there for him. The very thought sends shivers down my back.
Whatever this is between me and Sir, doesn’t have to be anything more than what I want it to be. It can just be the fantasy that I’ve always wanted to explore. It doesn’t have to go any further than that. It doesn’t have to be real. … although I’m starting to think I want more than a fantasy.
The air fills with the ringtone on my real cell, going off across the room and pulling me out of my thoughts.
I set the note down and walk back to my desk trying to calm the mix of emotions as I answer the phone absentmindedly.
‘“Hello?”
“Miss Wade?” A woman asks on the other end.
“Yes?” I furrow my brow, wondering what this could be about.
“This is Sarah Parker with Park and Recreations.”
My heart drops in my chest as I realize this is about Zach. That’s the only explanation. I pulled every string I could to get his public service moved. I lean slightly against the chair, my hand resting on the back as I lower myself down into the seat. “Yes?” I ask again cautiously.
“I’m calling because Zach White didn’t show up for his service today. And he had you listed as his contact.” I nod my head, my throat closing and my eyes shut tight.
“Oh,” I finally manage to say, disappointment lacing my words.
There’s a slight pause before the woman continues. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to have to give a call to his parole officer.”
Anger rips my chest as I force out my words. “Okay thank you. I’ll try to get a hold of him.” I’m so pissed at him. I’m upset, but more than anything, I’m angry. Why couldn’t he just do this? Why?
“I’m sorry. You have a nice day.”
“You too.” I say as the line goes dead.
Feeling the hurt spread through my chest, I turn in my seat and face the laptop. I need to email Zach and try to talk some sense into this boy’s head. It really pisses me off that he wasn’t there today. I thought he was really going to try. He told me he would. He told me he was grateful. Some gratitude.
Muttering angrily under my breath, I open my inbox, but before I can start drafting an email, I see a message pop up..
To: Ms Wade
From: Zach White
Hey don’t be mad at me
I know ur gonna be pissed at me and think I’m lying but i wasnt able 2 show up to my community service because I cut my hand really bad and ended up in the hospital. Then I went home and caught a fever. If you can call my parole officer and tell him what’s up? My cell doesn’t work and the land line is dead.
Thank u
Zach
“Oh Zach how I want to murder you,” I practically growl as I finish reading his message. I’m not sure that I even believe him. I grit my teeth, trying to decide what the right move to make is. I remember the way he was in class. The way he tried. He was honest to me then. I nod my head, remembering the days where he really put forth effort. He is a good kid. I know he is. I’m going to call his parole officer and try to smooth things over.
I pick up my cell and dial the officer’s number. No one answers, but I leave a message on the voicemail, stating that Zach is going through some things right now and if the officer can please bear with him and not come down too hard on him. He’ll be there next time.
I let out a frustrated sigh when I hang up the phone, wondering what I should do. After a moment, I mutter, “Fuck it,” grab my coat, and walk out the door. I need to check on Zach. I slam the door shut behind me. I shouldn’t go there, this is a job for his parole officer. But I need to really talk some sense into him. And see if he’s lying to me and playing me for a fool.
Anxiety grips my stomach as I roll through the seedy neighborhood, the dilapidated houses making my skin crawl. I don’t ever like coming to the south side of town. It’s known for it’s gangs, drugs, violence and prostitutes. I only come this way if I have to. Or if I care so