Safe and Sound(8)

“In the dark. And cold. And snow. And heat. Even in the rain.” He leaned close and said, “Whenever I like.”

Lola didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad. Instead she made a sound of exasperation. “Fine. Whatever. Freeze. See if I care.” Lola spun on her heel.

“Is everything okay, Lola?” he called after her.

She paused, but kept walking. “Yep. Everything’s okay. Perfect. Wonderful. Super. Couldn’t be better.”

“I think you’re lying.”

That stopped her. No one had called her out before.

“At the park, you’d acted scared. Like you thought…like you thought I was going to hit you or something.” His tone was incredulous, disbelieving.

Lola took a deep breath and clenched her hands into fists. She felt him move behind her, knew he stood close.

“What’s going on with you, Lola? Whatever it is, you can talk to me. You know that.”

If she leaned back, her back might even touch him. The heat of his breath fanned her hair and she shivered. She would give just about anything to feel his arms wrap around her, to feel safe, to have someone hug her, hold her. Lola sniffed and straightened her back.

“I want to help you. Let me help you.”

Lola spun around and bumped into him. Sebastian’s hands steadied her, where their skin touched on fire. He quickly dropped his hands and stepped back.

She swallowed and went on the offensive. “Why do you suddenly care?”

Sebastian blinked, opened his mouth. She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Lola raced from him, away from her confusing thoughts and feelings. She didn’t want to know what he had to say, what excuse or lie he would come up with.

The fact was he hadn’t been there for her. He just couldn’t suddenly start acting like he cared. Everything couldn’t be okay with them. They couldn’t go back. She couldn’t forgive him.

***

Last night she’d heard his footsteps pause outside her bedroom door. It made her sick just thinking about it. She’d known it was him because of the heavier tread. He’d never bothered her during the night or while she was in her room before. Why hadn’t he been at work?

Lola hadn’t been able to sleep the rest of the night. She’d been terrified he would open the door and—

“Lola.”

She sat up and looked around the classroom. Twenty-one pairs of eyes were on her, including the teacher’s. Students snickered and Lola’s face heated up.

Lola caught the eye of Roxanne and noted the smug look on her face. She was enjoying Lola’s embarrassment. Nothing new there.

The walls had maps on them and a globe sat atop a bookshelf. It smelled of chalk in the room and someone’s body odor. Lola was hot, but that had to be from nerves because it couldn’t be over sixty-five in the room.

Mr. Welsh was short, in his fifties, and had black curly hair. He was a hard teacher to begin with and anyone caught not paying attention usually regretted it.

He always wore white dress shirts and khaki slacks. Some students, the braver, or stupider ones, depending on how you looked at it, joked he only had one shirt and one pair of pants and had to do laundry every night.

“Yes?” she asked the history teacher.

Two bushy eyebrows lifted and he leaned his hips against the edge of his desk, arms crossed. His dark eyes drilled into hers. “What’s the answer?”

She could tell by his expression he was enjoying her discomfort.

Lola swallowed and looked at the blackboard for help, but it was blank. “Um…” Her palms turned sweaty and she turned to her classmates, but they were all conspicuously faced forward in their seats.

“Or maybe I should repeat the question?”

Her eyes flew to his and she nodded, relieved. “Yes. Please.”

One corner of his thin mouth quirked up and he pushed away from the desk. “Of course, if you were listening, I wouldn’t have to do that, now would I?” Mr. Welsh strode to the front of the room and faced the classroom. “Anyone want to help Miss Murphy out?”

Lola’s heart pounded and that sick feeling from the night before returned, but for different reasons. No one said anything. Either they didn’t know the answer, were scared to help her, or simply didn’t care.

He smiled and looked at Lola. “Since my class is so boring and unnecessary you don’t even pay attention, you might as well sit outside until it’s over.”

Her heartbeat tripped. “But—“

Mr. Welsh pointed at the door and said, “Out.”

Something snapped inside her. Rage, instant and red hot, swept through her. Trembling, Lola got to her feet and slammed her book on the desk. “No.”