What He Doesn't Know(23)

       
           


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"Fuck," I grunted, surrendering to the need. I was already working  myself faster, flexing my hips into my hand, the water providing a hot,  slick lubricant. I pictured Charlie there with me, her small body bent  beneath me, knees on the cold tile as her eyes locked on mine.

And then, my hand shot up, turning the faucet all the way right until  the water was ice and all visions of Charlie disappeared along with the  steam.

All the want drained from me in an instant, the cold water zapping my  nervous system as I forced myself to stand under it. It felt like  punishment, which was what I needed. Charlie deserved more than me  thinking about her while I beat off.

She deserved more than me, period.

I ran a bar of soap over my entire body quickly, rinsing off in the  still icy water, not allowing myself any more warmth. Once a fresh towel  was scrubbed over my long, wet hair and tied around my waist, I ran my  hand over the foggy mirror, meeting my eyes in the reflection.

I remembered a time when I could stare at myself for hours, getting  ready for a party or a night out on the town. I would listen to my music  too loud, spend too long on my hair, shave and joke with Graham or,  later, my roommates at Juilliard. I'd been confident and sure, the world  my oyster.

Now, I could barely look for more than a few seconds.

The man I used to be had died along with my family, and now all that was  left was a wanderer. I searched for home, for happiness, for something -  anything - to make me feel like life was still worth living.

I'd found that in Charlie.

The only question was whether I could keep that feeling with her only  being my friend - and not in the way I wanted her to be, but in the way  she was. Naturally.

Maybe we wouldn't talk every day. Maybe we wouldn't spend time together  outside of school. Maybe this was it, and I had to ask myself if it was  enough.

If it wasn't, I needed to keep searching for something to feel like home, and not in her. It wasn't Charlie's job to save me.

Even if I wished she would.





Reese



Even though I'd only been awake a half hour in the middle of the night, I  felt the restlessness of my lack of sleep that next morning. It was  Friday, the day before Valentine's Day, which meant the entire school  was painted red and pink, and every single child was hopped up on sugar.

I'd already had three cups of coffee by lunch, but I rounded the corner into the teachers' café to fill up again, anyway.

"I don't know, I think it's nice to see her so smiley again," Sierra  Maggert said as she mashed the buttons on the microwave with her pudgy  fingers. She was a younger teacher, round in every way from her cheeks  to her ankles, and one of the kindest members on the faculty in my  opinion. She'd offered to sit with me every day that I'd been alone at  lunch, and we'd spent quite a few afternoons talking about her dog,  Buster, that she'd had to put on a diet last month.

"Oh, it is," the man next to her agreed. I didn't recognize him. "I'm  just saying it's not like before. It's not genuine, you know? It's like  that crazy kind of smiley you see from people who are faking that  everything is fine before they crack and go on a killing spree."

She chuckled as the man continued.

"But I mean, after what happened to her, I don't know how she's kept it  together. While I still think she was getting her rocks off on an island  somewhere, maybe those three days were spent in a mental hospital. Girl  needed a breakdown."

Sierra clucked her tongue, but then her eyes found mine and she gave me a wide grin. "Hey there, Reese. Back for more coffee?"

The man beside her sipped his own coffee, watching me over the top of  his mug like I couldn't be trusted. He'd mentioned someone being gone  for three days, and Charlie shot immediately to the forefront of my  mind. I wasn't one for getting caught up in teacher gossip, but if they  were talking about her, I wanted in.

"Can't get enough of it today," I said, holding up my empty Thermos with  a forced smile. I reached for the coffee pot to fill it, my eyes  skirting from Sierra to her counterpart. "I'm Reese Walker."

Once my coffee was refilled, I extended a hand toward him, and he eyed  it for a moment before tentatively reaching forward to grip it in a limp  handshake. "Sheldon Mackabee. You're the new music teacher, right?  Piano guy."

"That's me," I said, fastening the top back on my Thermos. "Sorry to  eavesdrop, but I overheard a bit of your conversation before I came in."  I shifted, debating my options on what to say next. I wanted them to  trust me enough to tell me what they'd been talking about. "Care to fill  the new guy in on the hottest gossip?"                       
       
           


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Sheldon narrowed his eyes, but Sierra lit up like I'd pressed all the right buttons for her at once.

"Charlie Pierce," she whispered, pulling her leftover container from the  microwave and scooting closer to us. She swiped a plastic fork from the  dispenser on the counter and stuck her freshly heated roast beef with  it, dipping it in gravy and lifting it to her lips. "Sweet little  kindergarten teacher. Know who she is?"

The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, but I feigned  disinterest, leaning a hip against the counter. "I'm familiar."

"Well," Sierra continued. "She was out for a few days back in January,  and ever since then, she's been all happy go lucky. She hasn't been that  way with anyone other than her students in so long, it's freaking  everyone out a little. She's almost back to being the person she was  when she first started here."

Sheldon snorted. "No, she's not. She's faking like she's happy. That  said, she does have a little more of a pep in her step." He pointed at  Sierra. "I'm telling you, she got laid."

My jaw clenched at Sheldon's remark, and even more at the fact that he  was just as aware of the fact she was faking her happiness as I was.

I forced a tight laugh. "Well, she's married, isn't she? I don't think  getting laid would constitute as a catalyst for a mood change."

Sheldon and Sierra exchanged a look.

"I don't know, that's just my guess," Sheldon said. "But after what  happened to her, she deserves to get the sadness banged out of her."

I hated Sheldon.

Sierra giggled, but then shook her head with a sigh. "It really is so sad, the poor thing."

I cleared my throat, debating if I should let on that I knew what they  were talking about. About her loss. But then I realized she would have  been very, very pregnant if she'd lasted eight months carrying twins -  and then she'd come back after the summer no longer pregnant, and also  without children.

Of course, they all knew about what had happened.

"It is sad," I finally said. "I mean, I heard she lost them both … " I shook my head. "I can't even imagine."

They both watched me then, exchanging another odd glance before Sheldon  leaned in closer. "We're not talking about her pregnancy, Reese. It's  what happened after."

"After?"

Sheldon looked over his shoulder at a table of other teachers, lowering  his voice to a whisper. "Her husband cheated on her about a year after  it happened."

My eyes must have bulged out of my head, because both Sierra and Sheldon nodded with I know, right expressions.

"Exactly," Sheldon added, leaning back a bit and taking a sip of his  coffee. "Some spicy blonde vixen he works with is what I heard. And hey,  I don't know that I could blame the guy. After Charlie became such a  shell? And come on, that innocent school girl thing has to get old  fast." He shrugged. "I would want some tight bossy tail after going  through what he did, too."

I ran my hand over my mouth, scrubbing the rough hair on my jaw and  trying with every ounce of willpower I had not to show that I cared.

And not to lodge my fist straight into Sheldon's giant nose.

"Anyway, I think she got laid. Revenge cheating. She ran away with some  hot, young, single dad or something for a long weekend and came back  freshly fucked." Sheldon smiled, tilting his coffee toward me. "And to  that I say, good for her."

Sierra finished chewing a large bite, washing it down with soda before  changing the subject to her dog. I took the opportunity to politely  excuse myself, and then my feet were moving me fast down the hall toward  Charlie's classroom.

I had no idea why I was going there, or what I would say once I saw her.  My thoughts were jumbled in a tangled mess of anger and confusion, and I  was desperate to put the pieces together.

But when I rounded the corner into her room and saw her there, thumbnail  pinned between her teeth, book balanced in the other hand as her eyes  devoured the page, all I could do was stop and watch her.