Things I wasn’t interested in sharing. Not with him. Not with anyone.
“As you could probably tell, I’m not much of a fighter, and really, I don’t think it’s necessarily an important skill to have.”
“If you’re gonna Mr. Rogers me for twenty minutes, I swear I will jump out of this car and fucking walk. We’re not at school. As I had to remind that cop, I’m eighteen fucking years old, so you don’t have to do this dumb teacher-student moment like you’re about to haul me off to the principal’s office to explain conflict resolutions to me.”
I didn’t have a problem with James, but I wasn’t going to tolerate any of his teacher bullshit either. Not when I was already worked up enough from the night.
“Fair enough.”
It seemed I’d effectively killed the conversation, leaving me to my own thoughts as they pulled me out of survival mode and into thinking about why the hell I’d been back there to begin with. I couldn’t believe I’d even considered going to that extra-credit thing. I didn’t do extra credit.
Although, I knew what had really drawn me there: Mr. Warner—James. Teach.
He continued to fascinate me.
Like when I heard him talking to Simon.
I’d known the kid since elementary school. His parents had defected from Dad’s church and moved on to one of Wyachet’s many cults for the über-wealthy after his brother died in a car accident. Hearing him talking about feeling messed up in the head, about his depression and anxiety…fuck, it hurt my heart.
Teach could have disregarded Simon like his other teachers and even the other kids in school, like even I had until I heard how much he was struggling. But James had talked and listened. He was different, not just than most of the teachers I knew, but most people. I wondered if he even knew what he’d done for that guy, but it seemed almost instinctual for him. Like that was just the kind of person he was, same as when he talked to me.
As James continued navigating his way to my place, I decided to break the silence, hitting one of his music station selections. A female voice played as the artist’s name flashed across the screen. Made me smirk.
“Who the hell is Hailee Seinfeld?”
“It’s Hailee Steinfeld.”
I laughed at his correction. “Oh, wow. So you know who this is even? I take it you’re a big pop-music guy.”
“I didn’t use to be, but I’ve needed mindless and fun recently.”
His words suggested his life wasn’t so mindless or fun.
That first day, it had been impossible to tell anything about him really, considering it seemed he was mostly anxious about the predicament he was in, but I could sense it in class, every day—a sort of…sorrow, maybe.
He was a bundle of questions, and I wanted answers, but he got one in first. “You mind if I ask what you were doing in town tonight?”
“Yes.” The word shot out of my mouth. Quick. Forceful. Rude as hell. For actually thinking this teach was cool, I sure had a fucked-up way of showing it. But I was embarrassed that I’d been there because of him, when I should have taken up Ben on his offer for some ass.
Although, just thinking I could have been balls-deep in Ben while some stupid motherfucker had his knife in James’s gut made me glad I’d made the right choice. If I hadn’t gone into town, if I hadn’t chickened out and ended up at Finley’s, if everything hadn’t gone down exactly as it had, I wouldn’t have been there to help him.
What if he’d been hurt? Would have been the fucking case, I was sure. That was how life worked, wasn’t it? The good people were the ones who got hurt the most.
“Sorry,” I forced out nearly as harshly as my dismissive yes.
“What?”
“I’m not good at…this.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Talking. Everything always comes out wrong, or I say something stupid or that comes across mean or too harsh. My friend Taryn calls me Scowl when I get this look on my face. Says it reminds her of a greyhound her family had when she was little. It would sit there, wanting to rip someone’s face off, but wouldn’t do more than growl through its teeth. Judging by your expression, you don’t disagree.”
“You had a reaction to that cop that probably made him feel similarly. But it’s not a bad thing.”