What He Doesn't Know(4)

"And again, it's Pierce now."

Pierce.

Of course, she was married. It shouldn't have been a shock. It shouldn't  have even solicited a single blink from me, let alone the dry swallow  that torched my throat next. She was thirty now, and even with the light  gone from her eyes, just as beautiful as she'd always been.

I repeated it to myself, the fact that she was married, over and over again like a curse.

But I still couldn't tear my eyes away.

"Right. Pierce," I said finally, clearing the rawness from my throat in  the next breath. "Sorry about that. Habit, I suppose. Married for long  now?"

"Almost eight years."

I whistled. "And here I can barely fix myself a bowl of cereal in the  morning. I thought I was supposed to be the more mature one."

We both knew that was a joke. She'd always been the more mature of the  two of us, even when she was just a pre-teen and I was supposed to be  heading off to college.

Charlie was five years younger than me, and neither of us would ever  forget that. It was those five years that had kept us apart, that had  been a constant reminder of what we both wanted but could never have.

Now, at thirty-five and thirty, those years were no longer a road block. They weren't even a speed bump.

But the ring on her finger that she played with obliterated the road altogether.

"Still burning water, huh?" she said after a moment. "At least one of us hasn't changed."

She managed something of a smile then, just the slightest twitch of her  lips, and that made mine double in size. Maybe on the outside, I hadn't  changed much to her - sure, my hair was longer now, curling over the  edge of my ears, and my chest was broader, my arms, too, thanks to a  friend I met in Juilliard who convinced me we'd land more tail if we  spent more time in the gym than in the classroom. But I was mostly the  same, I supposed.

I couldn't say that about her.

I tried to do anything but stare at her, but I couldn't stop myself from  searching for the girl who'd stood before me fourteen years ago on the  night before I left Pennsylvania for New York. I think she'd hated me  that night, and I'd never forgotten the way her eyes had filled with  tears that pooled and never fell when we said our goodbyes.

She'd asked me to kiss her, and I'd said no - letting those years between us keep me from her like an electric fence.

Even now, I kicked myself for that mistake.

"You hungry?" I asked, gesturing to the café behind us. It was the kind  of teachers' lounge I'd only seen in movies, the kind no public school  would ever have. My teachers most certainly brought bagged lunches and  microwave dinners, but the Westchester teachers' café had an entire  buffet selection - from salads and hot sandwiches to grilled chicken and  vegetable plates.                       
       
           


///
       

Charlie eyed the food behind me, and I swore I could feel her stomach roll like it was my own.

"I had a snack just before lunch, actually," she lied. I knew it was a  lie because she chewed her thumbnail in the next instant, one of her  tells. It came out when she was nervous or hiding something, and the  fact that at least one thing was still the same about her made me smile.

I rummaged through my bag for an apple before abandoning the rest of my  belongings on the table behind us. I pulled my coat on, wrapping a scarf  around my neck next and taking a bite out of the fruit.

"Guess it's a perfect time for that tour, then."

Charlie only nodded, not looking back to ensure I followed her as she made her way out of the café.

Once her back was to me, I let out a long breath, shaking my head. It  was the marriage of a blessing and a curse, seeing her again after so  many years. The boundaries that used to exist between us had vanished,  but the new ones that had taken their place were made of steel, lined  with barbed wire, drenched in warning to keep clear.

The ring on her finger was a symbol of her commitment to another man.

That alone should have sobered me. That alone should have been at the forefront of my mind, but it wasn't.

Charlie Reid was married, she was Charlie Pierce now, and still, it didn't matter.

I loved her, anyway.





Charlie



Reese Walker was back in town.

I still didn't believe it, even as he walked next to me as we toured the  Westchester campus, his arm brushing mine as we rounded the courtyard. I  kept my eyes on the buildings I pointed out to him as we passed,  avoiding his gaze that begged me to look at him.

I could see it from the first moment he saw me - Reese was looking for  Charlie, the girl he left behind, the girl he used to know.

She didn't exist anymore.

"Over there is where the athletics facilities begin," I said, pointing  across the courtyard where some high school students were eating lunch.  It was freezing, both Reese and I bundled back up in our scarves and  coats, but even in the winter there would be a few kids who would brave  the cold for a lunch outside of the noisy cafeteria. "When you get a  chance, you really should take a walk through it all. We have an Olympic  sized swimming pool, a state-of-the-art fitness center, softball and  baseball fields, soccer and football fields, wrestling room -  Westchester prides itself on offering something for everyone."

Reese nodded, but his eyes only skirted over the facilities briefly before they were locked on me again.

He'd changed, too.

The first thing I'd noticed when I recognized him was that his hair was  longer. It used to be styled neat and short, and now it grew as unruly  as the boy I remembered. He'd filled out, his shoulders and chest broad,  arms toned - the skinny boy from my childhood gone, replaced by the man  I hadn't seen in fourteen years.

He was the last person I expected to see that day, and yet seeing him  hadn't triggered a single feeling from me. It was almost like he'd never  left, like he was still next door and I still saw him every day.

There was something buried, a stirring within me when he smiled. It  pulled at a cold, barren yet familiar part of me that tried to surface,  but failed.

Maybe it was because I didn't feel anything at all, anymore.

"And this," I said, pulling the door open that lead into our world-class  fine arts and sciences facility, "this is where you'll spend most of  your time outside of the classroom, I imagine. The Jenkins Center for  the Arts and Sciences."

Reese stood close to me as I rambled off all the features of the  building, the various rooms and facilities evenly split between two  seemingly opposite passions and skill sets. Westchester's goal had  always been to unite the two, science and art, to bring forth new,  creative ways to imagine and see the world we live in. There were dance  studios, digital music labs, as well as classical band rooms, an  orchestra pit in the performing arts wing, various science labs with  their own specific focus in each. It was massive, and I only had  knowledge of about half of what it actually housed.

"I can't believe you went to school here," Reese said from behind me. I  turned toward the sound of his voice, finally allowing myself a moment  to take him in as he marveled at the space.

His emerald eyes were wide, one hand touching the wooden banister that  led up a spiral staircase to the second floor where individual practice  rooms were housed for students to reserve on their own. Those eyes  brought memories of late nights at the piano, watching him play,  listening to the music he heard before anyone else, the music he  created.

That laden part of me moved again, a yearning for something, but a simple blink buried it.                       
       
           


///
       

I watched Reese absorbing it, the grand splendor of it all, the history,  his gaze spanning the length of the hall before falling to the map in  his hand as he pieced it all together.

"It was an amazing experience," I said after a moment. "Some of the best  years of my life were spent here. I guess that's why I couldn't wait to  come back."

"Yeah, I did not have that same desire to get back to my high school."

Reese smiled, eyes finding mine again as he tucked the map into his back pocket.

"Some of the best years of your life, huh?" he mused, fingers still  trailing the wood. "And where were the other years in that category  spent?"

I swallowed, eyes falling to my simple kitten heels.

"Garrick," I replied softly, recalling my years at university there. It  was a small, private university not too far from home. It was also where  I'd met Cameron. "And my first few years of teaching. Of being  married."

I felt Reese's gaze burning my skin, but I didn't return it. I didn't  want to know what his eyes looked like, didn't want him to search mine  like the truth was hidden inside them.