Our Last Time: A Novel (8 page)

She rested her head on my shoulder, and sighed. “I’m glad you and Zane are no longer, don’t get me wrong. I just can’t help but think there’s a reason behind it. A
person
behind it,” she whispered.

I patted the back of her head like a dog three times, and then roughly slapped my palm to my thigh. “There isn’t a person behind it, Caitlyn,” I confirmed.

“Okay, fine. How was your day, then?” she offered.

I sighed dramatically. “The
nemesis
patient made an effort to apologize for his atrocious behavior this morning,” I shrugged. “It threw me off guard, but I still hate him. He’s trying to be less needy, though, and that’s a relief.”

Her eyes were eating at me, and I couldn’t allow myself to turn, and make eye contact with her. I just watched the television, even though I wasn’t paying attention to whatever was on the screen.

“You’re not going to like my opinion on what you just said to me,” she muttered.

“Just get it over with, Caitlyn,” I exhaled.

She turned my face towards hers, and squeezed one of my hands at the same time. It made me feel overwhelmed when she’d get all intense - when she proved how much she
really
cared about me.

“You’re so damn afraid of life, and the changing of its course. You tell me you hate this guy you're caring for at the hospital, but you
don’t
, Willow. You don’t hate anyone, and that only makes me think one thing. You’re scared of this guy, and it’s the
fear
that you hate, not the person that causes it,” she said. Her voice was sharp. I felt it slice through me with every word that parted from her mouth, and I flinched.

“He’s rude, and he doesn’t smile.”

He smiled today. I’d never forget that smile, either, and I hated that.

“I know you, and you’re not capable of hating a person. You’re a goddamn nurse for crying out loud, Willow.” She was being stern, but in the quietest way, because Annette was watching the television from the kitchen. Annette saw what was on the television, but I just saw what my future would be once I had no one else to love me. I thought about how Annette would grow up, and have a husband one day, and how she might have kids of her own, too. Caitlyn loved Brian, and would eventually find a way to be with him, I figured, and I wanted her to be happy. I just hadn’t known what would happen to me once it was already done. I had lost my forever, and the only greatness I had left would diminish one day.

Caitlyn was right. I was afraid of something that was supposed to be natural: my own life.

“I’m reaching the dark side,” I groaned. “Help me to retreat.
Quick
,” I urged.

She knowingly hit me on the back of the head with her palm, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I released a deep sigh. “That helped, thank you,” I whispered.

She hugged me across the shoulders then, and her head rested on my shoulder. My cheek pressed to the top of her head, and we both sighed together. Our breaths were noticeable, and we felt it.

We exchanged
I love you’s
.

Annette soon joined us on the couch after washing her hands, and we watched a comedy movie before crashing in a heap, only tangled in each other.

Willow

Chemistry was the
only class Kennedy and I had together, and it wasn’t until the end of the day. It was our last class, and I spent most of my time during the day waiting for chemistry class to hurry up and start. I hadn’t had the same lunch as Kennedy, which I hated. He would be my shield, and I needed that.

I was eating lunch, now, and sitting at the small table in the cafeteria. It wasn’t the one near the trash cans, but it wasn’t one of the “cool” tables either. I was sitting alone, and I was used to flying under everyone’s attention until today. I felt eyes on me today, and it was odd. I was afraid I had been hallucinating when Calvin Steelton, one of the known football players that attended my high school, came trotting over to my table like he’d been doing it since the beginning of time.

“Hey,” he smiled. It was a very different smile from Kennedy’s.

His tray made a clacking sound against the table, and it made me jump a little in my seat. He sat down across from me, swinging his legs under the table. His foot brushed the tip of mine, and I could tell it hadn’t been an accident.

“Hey,” I mumbled. One of my eyebrows hitched from under my bangs, and I studied him. I pushed my feet backward and away from his, so he wouldn’t try to play footsies with me again. I was mentally preparing myself for public humiliation, because this guy was a popular guy, and I was obviously not a popular girl.

“Why are you sitting here all alone?” he asked me. He then took a bite out of his soft taco, being careful not to make a mess.

Today was taco day, and I wasn’t about to put a taco in my mouth with this boy sitting directly in front of me. I pushed my tray an inch forward, and sighed. His green eyes, his longish blond hair, and his built physique were all up in my personal space. It was a bit intimidating. I counted to three in my head before answering him.

“My only friend doesn’t have this lunch, and I don’t feel like putting effort into making new friends my senior year of high school. Seems kind of pointless.”

I said too much at one time, but he got the full answer to his question. I figured he could leave, now.

“Kennedy, right? Is he your boyfriend?”

He was instigating. I wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but that would only make him want to keep bothering me.

“Just a friend,” I answered crisply. I sipped my juice, and he took another bite out of his taco.

Keeping it casual.
I felt my nerves arise.

He cleared his throat. “You’re way too pretty to be sitting here all alone. If I were Kennedy, I’d find a way to keep you company at all times.”

He took another bite out of his taco, and my breathing hitched noticeably. This hadn’t made any sense.

“Calvin,” I sighed, “what do you want?”

I decided to be straight forward with the guy, because this was extremely unusual. I hadn’t known what he wanted from me.

“You should eat,” he said. “Lunch will be over soon, and I’d hate to be the reason you didn’t eat anything.”

I bit my bottom lip in thought. He hadn’t answered my question. He was acting like he cared about me, yet this was the first time I’d ever caught his attention. After all the years we’d been in the same space.

“If you would answer my question, maybe I’d feel more comfortable eating in front of you,” I replied.

He was staring at my lips as I talked, and that only made me more uncomfortable. I’d never received this kind of attention before.

“I would really, really,
really
like to take you out sometime. That’s what I want, Willow,” he responded.

His eyes flicked to meet mine, and he tipped his carton back. He was even
too cool
for milk mustaches. I hadn’t thought I could handle him. It also surprised me that he’d known my name.

“Do you really think that’d be a good thing?” Both of my eyebrows were lifted, and I couldn’t believe what was happening.

“It would be a great thing, actually,” he answered immediately. He pushed my tray closer to me. “Seriously, you should eat. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.”

I hadn’t known how he sensed all of my malfunctions when it came to his presence. I liked looking at him, but I hadn’t known if I was stable enough to endure him being so close, and interacting with me. It was like talking to a very hot alien.

“Did you lose a bet?” I mumbled in question. My eyes were narrowed in confusion, and he looked like he was bothered by my reaction.

He shook his head, and then swiftly swiped his tongue over his upper lip. “Apparently you don’t realize how much of a prize you are, and that’s a shame,” he said, “Also, I’m not a loser. But I would be if you said no to me right now.”

I couldn’t just come out and say that my best friend was the only person I could love, though Kennedy and I could never be a couple. I also hadn’t known if Calvin Steelton was who I should be playing in the field with, or considering past bases. We had gone to the same school since elementary, but we’d never talked up until this moment. I hadn’t trusted him, and if I was ever going to trust anyone who wasn’t Kennedy, I’d have to put myself out there and give other people a chance. Was Calvin the one I should be giving a chance to? I hadn’t known, but I
did
know that everyone went into this kind of thing blindly.

“What would I get out of it?” I asked him. I picked my taco up, and took a bite at that time. I wiped my mouth with my napkin.

He cleared his throat again, giving me chill bumps that prickled over the tops of my arms.

“You’d get me, and
all
of me. How’s that sound?”

He was cocky, but in a different way from Kennedy. He was looking at me like I was his prey, and his accomplishment would be to eat me in one bite.

“It sounds like you’re lying to me,” I answered honestly. I was being stereotypical, but I had a right due to his behavior. He was sending me a very strong vibe, and it smelt like one-hundred-percent
arrogant jock
. I hadn’t expected to be okay with that.

“I thought you had a boyfriend for all these years because you were always with that guy, but here you are. All alone, and obviously single. I’ve wanted to be that guy for all those years, Willow. I couldn’t be more truthful.”

He was equipped with swooning words, and I guessed I hadn’t been invisible to people that weren’t Kennedy after all. Was he simply
dared
to approach me like this if it wasn’t a bet? I couldn’t convince myself that Calvin Steelton was interested in me.

“Why would you want to be Kennedy?” I was a questioning machine. He had flipped the switch. He had me more curious than I’d ever been.

“That’s easy,” he smiled. “Attention. He has all of yours, and it made me envy everything about him. I want to be the one who makes you smile, but he’s always been that guy. Even if it’s just for one day, let me be that guy for one day.”

He might have been a poet, too. That part about him I really liked, and a little bit too much.

“See? I want to do that more often,” he grinned.

I had been smiling like an idiot because I liked the way he talked to me. I hadn’t wanted him to stop talking to me, now, and I hadn’t wanted lunch to end.

The bell did ring eventually, but neither of us stood up when everyone else did.

“I’ll walk you to class,” he told me.

His hand rested on the small of my back, and he guided me in many directions through many places - I hadn’t wanted to stop traveling. I hadn’t wanted him to stop walking me to class, either.

Willow

I saw the back
of Annette’s substitute teacher’s head this morning, and I lived up to my motherly talk-through, and threw something at him. Unfortunately, I missed his head by a millimeter. I hadn’t been
too shy
- at least I tried. I also realized I needed that balled-up receipt for something. I wouldn’t be getting it back, though. The sacrifice had already been made.

Last night’s homework was the last straw, and I decided I needed to confront the man or woman responsible for this. Annette was missing out on being a kid, because she was just too superb to play hooky, or to let her mom do her homework for her…or to just not do the homework at all. She was a good student for a teacher that hadn’t deserved her.

“Go sit, sweetie. I’m going to chat with Mr. Substitute,” I told Annette, and she nodded.

She smiled at me before walking off, because she knew that I sometimes got uneasy around masses of strangers. I was doing this for her, and she knew that. I was also doing this for me, too. I enjoyed going to the park with my daughter.

There were a lot of people in this elementary school, too many. I wasn’t going to let that get to me this time. My eyes clicked to the substitute as he turned fully around to face me, and I sighed.

He had an odd bald spot, a potbelly, and a permanent scowl. I was check-marking all the signs for male distress in my head. The substitute was your typical unhappy substitute. That hadn’t surprised me, but what
did
was his reaction to my figure posed outside of the open door to the classroom.

He was walking towards me at that moment, and his demeanor had somehow changed to determined, and excited. And, well, for
me -
it was freaky, and uncomfortable.

I will vomit if he smells like old note cards, and ass
, I had thought to myself.

I concluded that it was impossible to mask my expression of disgust as he got closer.

“Are you Annette’s mother?” he asked me. He hadn’t gotten too close, which I was grateful for.

His tone of voice dimmed from manly. He was wearing khakis with a button-up shirt that had
dots
on it, and I silently decided that he was also one of those dweeb substitute teachers.

“Yes, and I’m here to tell you to tone it down with the low-blow homework. She’s in the third grade, and you’re not even her real teacher. Eight year olds have lives, too, you know,” I said.

I had my arms crossed over my chest as I had gotten right to it with the man. I had kept my tone soft, so I wouldn’t sound like a bitch.

“Well, she’s doing great…” he trailed off.

I already knew that. We were talking about Annette, here.

“Of course she is, but none of what you’re giving her matters. None of it really matters until her real teacher comes in,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

I threw him off guard, so I had given him a few seconds to reciprocate. I wasn’t usually the rude type, but the substitute was interfering with the time that I had with Annette. That had upset me to a degree.

Kids were starting to make their way around me so they could get into the classroom, and take their seats.

“I’m following the teacher’s guidelines, Ms. Monroe. I’m only doing what Mr. Blanquette told me to do,” he said. His brow was puckered, and he had his hands settled on his hips.

Wait a second…had he just said
Mr.
Blanquette
?

No one else had that last name. It wasn’t a common name at all. Wyatt
had
told me he was a teacher - Jesus - the man managed to be an asshole even where he wasn’t physically located.

“So, Wyatt is responsible for this?” I exasperated. “Are you seriously telling me…” I paused, sighing. I wasn’t going to pull a Tessa. I just waited for the substitute to confirm what I already knew.

“Yes, Wyatt Blanquette is the teacher I have been substituting for since the first day of school,” he answered. His expression was confused. He looked over his shoulder to check on the kids, but they were all behaving well, and were seated in their seats. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, miss, or are we done here?” he asked politely.

I managed a stiff nod. “Yes, we’re done, thank you.”

I forced a smile and waved goodbye to Annette before turning towards the exit.

9:11a.m.

“Good morning, Wyatt,” I smiled, his tray of food in my hands as I approached his bedside.

He looked surprised at my abrupt entrance, but managed a small smile. He nodded as I placed the tray over his thighs.

“Morning, Willow. You look chirpier than usual. Something happen?”

His facial expression had told me that he was on to me somehow, but I brushed off his question.

“Doctor Venice said you were doing well. You should be able to go home in the next day or two, correct?” I crossed my arms.

I hadn’t spoken with Doctor Venice. I was instigating him, because I hadn’t believed he had to continue staying here. He seemed well enough to go out on his own. He hadn’t had IV’s in him for nearly a week, now. His broken arm had been in a cast for nearly a week, now, too. It was like Wyatt wanted to play house with me. I was his dog, though, and he hadn’t had a companion. Not that I’d play the part as his companion if he offered. He was the one I wanted on the leash, but if I had the chance to wrap something around his neck, I’d be dragging his ass out of here in an instant.

“I’m still disabled, Willow,” he sighed, “Sit.” He patted the small vacant spot next to him, close to his right thigh.

I hesitated. If I obliged, I’d definitely be his dog in this situation. I hadn’t wanted to be his dog anymore, so I stood up straighter, silently denying his request.

He narrowed his eyes. “You have to feed me, nurse. Please sit,” he muttered the words, patting the spot a little harder.

He patted the spot again.

Then again.

He raised his eyebrows as I continued to shake my head no, like an errant child.

“You have to learn to live with your disabled-ness. Grab your fork with your
right
hand, and eat your scrambled eggs yourself. No more feeding you,” I curled my lips.

I was smirking at him as he processed my demand.

“Why won’t you feed me?” he asked, his tone annoyed. His eyebrows were scrunched, and his nostrils were slightly flared as he grabbed the sheet with his right hand, and bunched it in his fist.

I wanted to laugh at his defiance. He really hadn’t wanted to eat his eggs himself. The slight struggle of the act hadn’t sat well on his mind at all.

“How old are you, Wyatt?”

He sighed deeply,
loudly
. “You’re pulling that one again? Really? What am I here for if you’re not going to help me through this?” He tilted his chin up, his bottom lip puckered into a pout.

The man was pouting. This twenty-eight-year-old man was
seriously
pouting at me, because I wouldn’t feed him his eggs.

“I ask myself that every day, now. Why is Wyatt still here?” I tapped my temple with my index finger, and he rolled his eyes at that. “I thought you were going to stop being so needy?” I paused, and then stepped a foot closer to him.

The tops of my thighs touched the very edge of his bed, and the way he looked up at me made me feel in control for the first time since we met.

“So you want me to feed myself now? Seems kind of harsh of you, since I’ve gotten so used to being fed,” he mumbled.

I wondered if he heard what came out of his mouth sometimes. Surely he wouldn’t act this way in front of his students. My Annette would be offended by his behavior, being
his
student.

I did not want him to ever tell Annette what to do.

“You want the luxuries of having a nurse that does what she’s asked to do, Wyatt?”

He nodded. His deep features expressed confusion. He hadn’t known what to think, and I loved that.

“Then let me ask you this,” I sighed, and then I sat on the edge of the bed where he previously told me to sit. “You’re a teacher, right?

He nodded again, curious. “Yes. I told you this already.”

“And I have a daughter,” I said, my eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell me you were a third grade teacher. I would have never guessed,” I muttered.

He sighed. “Yes, I am. So your daughter is in my class I presume, and you have complaints?” He raised his eyebrows, expectant.

“You’re an asshole,” I said simply, shaking my head.

“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” he smirked.

I sighed. “Your eyes are nice, and your scruff is nice,” I jumbled flatly, raising my hand to his face, before plucking one of the hairs on his chin between my fingernails.

He muttered an, “Ouch,” as I flicked the lonely hair to the ground, my eyes never leaving his face.

“You’re giving a bunch of third graders too much homework while you’re not even there, Mr. Blanquette.”

He groaned once I referred to him as a teacher, which he hadn’t liked at all. “And?” he shrugged.

“And that’s not very nice of you,” I hissed. He was so frustrating.

“So you’ll be my favorite little nurse if I stop assigning my students' homework? Be a little more realistic, Willow. I stick to my syllabus.” His eyes trained on mine, rather intensely.

I wanted to choke him one good time. Just
once
, until he’d give up, and do whatever I’d ask him to do.

“So you’re telling
me
you can’t tone it down?” I asked slowly.

“Define
‘tone it down’
,” he offered, his voice softening.

I might have had an in. I was hoping for it.

“I’m not asking for you to not give them any homework, I’m asking for you to stop giving them so much. My daughter doesn’t have time for other things, because of all the bullshit homework you’re making her do. They’re third graders, Wyatt. Let them be kids,” I explained.

“You must really love your daughter,” he said.

“I love her more than I love myself,” I replied sternly.

“Okay,” he paused. “I’ll half it up, but you have to feed me, and let me be needy sometimes.”

“Why the ‘
needy’
addition?” I pointed at him accusingly.

He cursed under his breath. He confused me.

“I kind of like it when you take care of me,” he answered.

He was the dog, technically. And I might have misunderstood Wyatt’s intentions, and I hated that.

“You like it when I take care of you?” I whispered in disbelief.

That sounded like something a porn star would say in a porno - like right before the sex.

Wyatt and sex and
porn stars
in the same thought hadn’t mixed well, so I tossed the thought aside. I was thinking he might just have abandonment issues.

I told myself that was all it was.

“That’s what I said,” he confirmed. “I thought you knew that. Especially after the screaming your name and the refusing help from others,” he went on.

I studied him for a second.  “Your eggs are getting cold,” I said under my breath. I ripped his utensil packet open, and grabbed the fork before stabbing some of the egg with it. I shoved it in his mouth when he opened it.

I was a bit harsh about it, and he noticed that.

“Gentle,” he commented.

“Here,” I shoved another fork full in his mouth, and he coughed that time.

“You’re going to make me choke,” he said, his mouth full.

That would be a goal met, but then again, I would be the one that’d have to help him if he choked.

“That’s not my intention,” I answered honestly. I was just annoyed.

“I said I’d half up the homework. You’re not satisfied with that compromise?” He chewed the rest of the egg in his mouth, and then swallowed.

I watched his Adam’s apple as it moved, like it was something I liked watching, and I hated that.

I looked at his eyes before answering. “I’ll settle with that. I’m just not looking forward to taking care of you.”

He smiled, “I’m still going to be nice to you. I won’t ask for clean sheets when I don’t need them. I just want your attention. That’s what nurses do, right? They award attention to their patients.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Nothing,” he interrupted. “We have a deal.”

“I guess so,” I said softly. I forked another piece of egg in his mouth. I wasn’t forceful with it that time.

“Can you give me a shoulder-rub after breakfast? I’m feeling tense this morning,” he said.

I gave him another piece of egg, my eyes squinted at him. “You’re really pushing it, Mr. Blan-”

“Wyatt,” he interrupted me again. “Just Wyatt,” he said crisply.