10. Nick

CHAPTER 10

NICK

I wish I had a cell phone. All this note writing is exhausting. I’m not as good at words as you are. But I love you more than the entire world. - HB

Eavesdropping is wrong.

Clara and Mari were across from each other at the big table in the middle of the lounge and I’d been lurking at the door like a creeper for the last few minutes, listening in as they bonded over their collective feminist rage, complained about men, and ogled my buddy Court after he passed me going in.

“Heeeey,” they greeted in unison when he cleared the doorway.

Like Clara, Court was a sub. Sometimes he joined us at the Smoky Mountain Inn’s huge back lawn area for touch football with Clay, the Monroe brothers, and a few of the other guys I had played ball with back in high school. He was a good guy, but he’d better not even think about trying anything with Clara.

Since I was busted anyway, I headed inside, making a beeline for my favorite Keurig as I tried to catch Clara’s eye.

She patted my shoulder on her way to the door as Mari darted past me toward the band room with a wave. “Later, neighbor. Maybe I’ll see you around the block sometime.”

“Hey, wait up a sec,” I called, gratified when she came to an immediate stop and spun to face me. “Maybe I’ll catch you at Genie’s tonight instead. Mari invited you, right?” A couple times a month a varying group of teachers met at Genie’s Country Western Bar to commiserate about our job complaints over margaritas and nachos. Tonight was one of those nights.

“She mentioned something about it, but no. I can’t make it.”

I took one step closer. “I think you should come. I’ll drive you.”

Old man Neal shoved around me on his way to the cursed couch that sat along the back wall. “She’s not invited, of course,” he muttered without looking up. “Midweek margarita night is not for subs. What could she possibly have to complain about?”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” I snapped. “Show some respect.”

“Oh, like you were respecting her the other morning?” he hissed under his breath.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” I hissed back. “If you say one word about that to anyone, I’ll make you more miserable than you already are. Do you hear me? Clara is off limits.”

He nodded once as he passed, glaring at me as he sat his mean ass down on the sofa along the back wall. If the rumors were true, it was one of the preferred spots our illustrious former principal and his secretary liked to conduct their extracurricular activities on. No one told old man Neal though. Quite a few of us teachers had been subjected to his judgmental bullshit when we were here as students. Suffice it to say he was not well-liked.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to him. Whatever he said, it’s fine. He’s been talking behind my back for years because he’s too scared to say anything to my face. Isn’t that right, Geoffrey?”

“It’s Mr. Neal,” he corrected her as Court returned. He shoved a pod in the Keurig and shot Clara a grin.

“Whatever you say, Geoff,” she bit out with a hostile grin. “Guess what, my schedule suddenly opened up. I’ll see y’all tonight at Genie’s wearing my best hillbilly trash outfit just for Geoffypoo’s grumpy ass. Y’all be sure to save me a seat at the bar.”

Mr. Neal sputtered and got up from the couch. “Miss Hill, you’re impossible and you always have been. Good day.”

Clara glared at him before breezing through the door with a little wave aimed his way. He followed behind, then turned down the hall toward the library.

“I like her—” Court started.

“Don’t.” My voice was a low grunt. Could I have acted any more like a possessive neanderthal? Shit, I was going to give everything away on her first day here if I wasn’t careful.

“Not where I was going with that.” He laughed. “But I get you loud and clear. Clara is off limits.”

Clay breezed in, bag of takeout in his hand. “Who’s off limits? The new sub?”

“No one,” I bit out and Clay laughed.

“Gotcha.” He took a seat at the table and dug into his lunch. “Don’t ask the hot new sub out.”

“I’m not available anyway,” Court deadpanned. “No worries, Nick, seriously. We won’t say a word about your massive crush on Miss Hill.”

I heaved out a sigh. “Thanks, I know you won’t. I just . . . She just . . . Fuck.” Better to let them think I was crushing on her rather than dredge up all the history we shared.

“Look, we’ve all been there. In fact, I might be there too, right now,” Clay added.

“Sorry, man.”

“It is what it is.” I knew he wouldn’t talk about it with me. None of us were the type to share our feelings, at least not with each other. We were more prone to zone out while playing football in silent sympathy or by exchanging knowing looks over the pool table at Genie’s.

Was that a problem? Probably.

“Later.” I took my now-filled mug of coffee from beneath the Keurig and decided to finish out my prep period alone in my classroom and try to clear my head.

Clara was here.

In this building.

Driving me crazy.

Again.

Memories of how I’d felt passing her in the halls, running into her at her locker or the cafeteria, or seeing her under the bleachers with her friends while I was in PE or at football practice running the track assaulted me as I walked. Just like back then, she was mine and I couldn’t say a word about it. She belonged with me, and I was the idiot who’d let her go without a fight all those years ago.

Instead of going directly to my classroom, I took a detour and wound up in front of her old locker. We’d always passed notes back and forth. I used to slip them inside her locker at lunch. Her mother wouldn’t let her have a cell phone, so we didn’t text like most of our classmates did.

I inhaled a sharp breath, stuttering to a stop when I saw her standing there, like something straight out of a memory or the dream I sometimes had.

“Remember when you used to slip notes through the side right here?” Her finger traced gently over the small opening. “That always used to be the best part of my day.”

“I remember.”

“I still have them,” she whispered. Her eyes were lit with from within. The Clara I used to know shone through more and more each time I got the chance to be around her. It took everything in me not to yank her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her.

Every time I had seen her reading one of my notes from afar, I’d wanted to run to her and pull her close. Back then she would have let me do it; she hadn’t cared about secrets like I had. She would have melted into me with kisses and smiles like she had done whenever we were alone. But she wasn’t mine anymore, no matter how much it still felt like she should be, so I took a step away from her instead.

“I have yours too,” I confessed.

“Really? Does your ex know about that?” The light in her eyes had died, leaving a dim melancholy glow in its place.

“No. There’s a lot she never knew about me.”

She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Why do I like hearing that?”

“I’m not ready to give you that answer, probably as much as you’re not ready to hear it.”

“You’re right about that.” She laughed lightly. “I’m not ready for any of this. I didn’t realize being here would feel this way. So nostalgic and sad. How can you stand it?”

“It’s weird sometimes,” I admitted. Weird. Right. Working myself to the bone and being too tired to think seemed to have been my coping mechanism after I’d quit binge drinking in college.

“It’s like we’re stuck in a stinky time machine full of old gym socks and Tater Tots. Why does it smell the same?” She gave a choked laugh, desperate to lighten the mood.

“You nailed it. The place reeks.”

“Also, Mr. Neal is still a total dick. I mean, I knew it from him being in the neighborhood, but why did it have to hurt so much when he talked down to me here?”

The quiver in her voice nearly split my heart in two. “God, Clara⁠—”

“Never mind.” She managed a trembling smile, holding up a hand as if to wave off her emotions. “I know better than to let anyone get to me anymore. I have to go back to my class.”

The bell rang. Students swarmed the hallway, and a few aimed curious glances our way as we lingered in front of her locker.

I took another step back. Old habits die hard and, apparently, keeping our relationship secret was still second nature to me.

“Will I see you at Genie’s tonight?” Our eyes met and an old gleam of understanding flashed between us. “If old man Neal is there, I’ll protect you, I mean it.”

“Like when you told him he was wrong for being so mean all the time? That there are ways to teach lessons without being cruel?”

“That was kid stuff. I could probably do better now.”

“It sounded pretty grown up to me. Anyway, spite has always been a great motivator for me. We’ll see what happens.” I watched her walk away as my heart thudded a painfully familiar beat in my chest.

My anxiety had returned. I used to be so keyed up when I was a student here. Years had tamed it, time had done its best to erase the way I had felt as a kid—after my dad died, after my mom changed, after my brother went off to college, and I was left swirling in the toxicity of what was left of my family.

Clara had held me together back then. Being with her—someone who could relate to the fucked-up mess my life had become—was the only thing that had kept me going. No one had ever understood me the way she had, not even my own brother.

I felt like I’d lost her all over again today and I didn’t know how to cope with it.

The rest of the day went by quickly, but I was oblivious to everything. I was lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out how I could make things right when I still couldn’t understand what had gone wrong in the first place.

Maybe I could take a shot tonight—get her to talk to me, buy her a drink, ask her to dance. Anything to force a reaction out of her, something beyond the cagey sarcasm she seemed comfortable hiding behind. It was cute, but I’d had enough of it.

I was ready for something real. Like that morning on her balcony, or when we first saw each other. She’d been pissed at me, but at least it was honest.

It felt like I was wound up in a string she was yanking around but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Not when my past and present were tied up in memories of her and all I wanted was the truth.