6. Kylie

Chapter six

Kylie

" M iss Davis?"

I jolt awake, a bit disoriented as snickering erupts behind me. Blinking a few times, I try to clear my vision but wish I hadn't. Mrs. Mathews is standing in front of me, lips pinched tight, arms crossed, and a foot tapping the floor. I sigh in resignation of what's to come.

"Yes, Mrs. Mathews?" My voice hoarse from sleep, I clear my throat and sit straighter.

"What is it, Miss Davis? Is my class too boring for you or were you out partying too hard last night? Because let me tell you something, neither of those answers is appropriate. I have waitlists for my classes and here you are sleeping through it."

She's angry, but that's nothing new. I don't know what it is about me, but I swear she goes out of her way to make me look dumb. If I take even one moment to show I’m not listening, she calls me out. I've tried to be as polite as possible despite her trying to shame me, but it never helps. Sadly, I've almost reached my breaking point and after what I had to do yesterday, I don't think before I speak. My only goal is to shame her right back.

"Neither, I'm afraid. You see, my father has cancer and I'm sorry if I struggle at times to be fully present, but I'm sure you can understand how a person would struggle when they fear their father is dying."

Mrs. Mathew's face drains of color as the room goes quiet.

Instantly, I regret my words. It seems I'm making all kinds of irresponsible choices lately.

I should've had private conversations with all of my professors, letting them know what I’m dealing with, but I thought I was handling everything well enough.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Davis. If you need additional help, please know you can talk to a counselor here at the school," she says before turning back to her desk.

The guilt kicks in seeing her so unsettled. Thankfully, she recovers and moves on to what I presume she was discussing while I'd been asleep. Tucking my head down, I force myself to pay attention for the rest of the class.

When the bell rings, Mrs. Mathews calls me to her desk. I nod in acknowledgement as I put everything in my backpack before weaving my way between the exiting students. She waits until everyone leaves before turning to give me her full attention. "I'm sorry about your father, Miss Davis."

I'm taken aback by her apology when I fully expected a reprimand.

She glances down, clearing her throat before meeting my eyes. "I lost my husband to cancer six years ago. So you see, I know a little about what you’re going through. I'm a part of a support group for families dealing with this disease. If you're interested, I can give you the information."

Well, damn. That explains so much.

Her showing compassion after what she's been through brings the guilt and fear I've been dealing with to the surface, and my eyes water. Mrs. Mathews' eyes look suspiciously wet when she reaches for me, but snatches her hand back before making contact.

Before she can say anything more, I apologize to her as well. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know about your husband and I should've told you about my dad privately, not in front of everyone."

"Oh, no, please, I should be more aware that not all my students are here only to have fun and party. I know some of you are dealing with real-life events, and I forgot that somewhere along the way." Her gaze bounces around the room as she struggles to control her own emotions.

"Still, I shouldn't have done it. We actually received good news at my dad's last appointment. He's in remission. I've just … I …" To give myself a moment, I take a deep breath before continuing, "It's just that, it's all hitting me now that I could have lost him and ..." I don't continue because I wouldn't be able to finish without losing the battle to contain my tears. Instead, I shrug and hope she understands.

She gives me a sad smile and this time she doesn't hesitate to lay her hand on my arm. "I'm so glad he's in remission. I think we both learned a little something today." She pauses to survey the classroom before returning her attention back to me. "You can still join the group. Just because your father is recovering doesn't mean you haven't dealt with all your fears. It truly can be helpful."

"Thank you. It's kind of you and I'll think about it."I glance back to the exit, ready to end this emotional exchange.

"Alright, then. You have a good rest of your day." She gives me one last smile before turning to her papers on her desk. At this point, students have started walking in for her next class, so I make a hasty retreat.

As I make my way to the library, my name is shouted from behind. I turn to find Danny Hendricks jogging toward me. Frowning, I'm bewildered by his presence. Danny was one of the hottest guys in our school and I've had a crush on him since my freshman year. Being too shy to make the first move, I always admired him from afar. I don't understand why he's here now, though. He should've graduated last year.

Danny catches up to match my stride and flashes me a smile. "Hey, Kylie. Man, it's been forever. It's good to see you again."

Thrown by his casual regard when he's barely spoken to me before, has me stuttering. "Oh … uh, thanks. It … it's good to see you too."

"Yeah, so, uh, don't let that bitch make you feel bad. She's been riding you since the beginning of the year and that's not cool." He nods a greeting to one of the students passing by. "I'm also sorry about your dad. That's rough, man." He runs his hand through all that gorgeous blond hair of his, distracting me until it dawns on me what he said.

"Wait … how do you know about that?" I stop walking and turn to him, confused. Surely, news didn't travel that fast. It only happened five minutes ago.

I witness a flicker in his eyes I don't quite understand before he quickly recovers. "You do have a lot on your plate, huh?" He chuckles. "I'm in the class with you."

"You are?" My eyes widen. How could I have missed him in class?

"Ouch." He flinches and rubs a hand over his heart, before shaking his head and laughing. "You sure do know how to wound a man."

"Sorry, I've been consumed by my dad's illness and haven't been fully present lately." I cringe at the thought of him witnessing my behavior in class. "And please, Mrs. Mathews isn't a bitch. She apologized after class and was understanding. I don't think she will be so hard on me now."

"Good. That's good. I'd hate to have to turn her in."

Tilting my head, I lower my brows, confused by his comment.

"Between you and me, I'm there to observe only. After graduation, I got hired on with the football team. Coach has received some complaints about Mrs. Mathews purposely failing the players in her class, so he asked me to sign up to keep an eye on things." He leans in to whisper, "She's unaware, so I appreciate you keeping it to yourself." Straightening, he looks around before turning back to me. "Anyway, the only person I've seen her being hard on is you and, well, that's been confusing." He raises his eyebrow in question.

"Yeah, I don't know why either." I don't want to betray her confidence, so I leave out what she confessed to me. "But I believe it's going to change now. I feel good about our conversation. Please don't report her on my behalf." I swipe the hair blowing in my eyes out of my face to tuck it behind my ear. His eyes follow the action and I don't know what to make of that. Wouldn't he have approached long before now if he was interested in me?

"Hey, Hendricks!" Danny turns in time to catch the football thrown at him. He stumbles back a step from the force of the throw, but manages to hold on to it. " Nice catch!" One of the other players yells. Several of the team are congregated around a picnic table with a group of sorority girls a few yards away. A few of them are glaring at me and I can't resist rolling my eyes. Danny's unaware of his fan club as his focus is on the player who threw the ball. Chuckling, he tells the guy to go long.

Deciding our conversation must be over, I resume walking and leave him to it.

"Hey wait!" Danny catches up to me again and I glance at him in question. "So, where are you headed now? Got another class?"

"Uh … no. That was my last class, but I'm going to the library for a project I'm working on."

He nods and I can tell he's about to say more, but my phone goes off. I snatch it out of my pocket to find an unknown number on the screen. Knowing this call could be about my appointments, I glance back at Danny and make my excuses. "I'm sorry, I have to take this."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'll, uh … catch you later." He hesitates before turning and jogging over to the football players. I wait until he's out of earshot before accepting the call.

"Hello?"

"Miss Davis?" An unfamiliar voice comes over the line.

"Yes, this is she."

"I'm nurse Tammy with Dr. Cappel's office. I'm calling to let you know the agency scheduled an appointment for your physical this afternoon at three p.m. Will you be able to make it?"

And just like that, my nerves kick in.

"Yes, I can be there. Can I have your address? I'm not sure where you're located."

She rattles it off and we hang up. The butterflies are back and wreaking havoc in my stomach again. After entering the address into my phone, I check the time to see I have just enough of it to run by the library first.

** *

An hour later, I'm sitting in another waiting room, wondering what the hell I'm doing with my life as I eye the exit. It's not too late to back out, but I also know I can't if I want to help my parents. I only wish this was easier to handle. When Talia said this would come at a great price, she wasn't wrong.

"Miss Davis?"

I snap my gaze to the nurse standing by the door, holding a clipboard. This feels a lot like déjà vu.

"That's me." I stand and gather my belongings.

"Great. Follow me." She turns and walks past the reception desk to where the exam rooms are located. "I'm Tammy, the one you spoke with on the phone. We're going to draw some blood today and do a physical exam. Please step in here and undress. There's a gown for you to put on. Do you have any questions before I go?"

"No. I'm good. Thank you."

"Great. The doctor will be with you in a few minutes." She smiles and shuts the door behind her.

My anxiety is through the roof at this point and I hope they don't take my blood pressure because I don't think I would pass right now. With no choice but to undress, I fold my clothes and lay them on the chair before hopping onto the exam table to wait for the doctor.

I've had these exams once a year since my teens, but I've never felt as embarrassed as I do now. I can't stop wondering if the doctor and nurse know why I'm here getting these tests done.

Three quick but firm knocks on the door yanks me out of my head. I straighten my shoulders and brace for the doctor as he steps into the room. He looks up from my chart with a gentle smile in greeting before he explains everything he's going to do for the exam. An older nurse—that's not Tammy—comes in behind him and shuts the door before moving to stand off to the side.

After a torturous fifteen minutes that feels like an hour, the doctor ends the exam, telling me the results will be sent to the agency and if there's anything of concern, they will call me .

Mortified, I thank him without making eye contact and hastily dress after they leave the room.

My mind wonders to the possibility of the doctor being a client of Sweet Connections. Can you imagine having an exam and then he requests you to be his sugar baby? That would be awkward.

The receptionist at the front desk informs me I don't owe anything, and I can't leave fast enough.

As I'm walking to my car, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Another unknown number.

Hesitantly, I accept the call. "Hello?"

"Miss Davis? This is Margaret Wesley. I've been informed your doctor appointment is completed. Is that correct?"

Seriously? I just walked out of the office.

I glance back toward the entrance as if I could find out how she knew already. "Uh, yeah. Yes. I'm done."

"Good. You have a salon appointment in an hour. Then from there, you'll head to the photography studio."

"Wow. That's quick." I bite my nail as I look around the parking lot. A young mom is sitting on a bench with her two little kids waiting for the bus. She looks harried as she tries to keep her little boy from running all over the place.

"Isn't that what you wanted? I expressly remember you wanting this to move fast." Ms. Wesley chides me.

"No, no! I mean, yes. I do want this done fast. Thank you."

I roll my eyes at myself.

I don't know why my attention stays on the young mom as Ms. Wesley says she'll text me the addresses before ending the call without a goodbye, but I can't help but think being a mom will not be in my future after what I'm about to do.

Sighing, I settle into my car and wait for the text.

By the time I'm done with all the appointments, I've had my hair trimmed and styled, a mani-pedi, and a Brazilian wax. Then I was dressed in a beautiful green sparkly dress for my photo shoot.

I no longer recognize myself.

Who knew I could look this good? The dress the photographer had waiting for me shows off my curves without being indecent.

By the time the photographer finishes, it's late and I still have to work on my project. I'm dragging with lack of sleep already, and I'm not sure how I'll make it on another sleepless night.

To make matters worse, it's pouring when I step out of the studio. All the hard work done on my hair and makeup is ruined by the time I unlock my car. I rush to close the door and lock it before leaning my head back against the headrest. The mom with the two kids at the bus stop pops into my head again, and I banish it immediately. I can't think about what might have been.

Blowing out a breath, I start the car for my drive home.