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Authors: Amy Lynn Steele

Teach Me (18 page)

BOOK: Teach Me
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I almost laughed. “Of course he does.” I pointed to my swollen eye. “Robert knows everything about Ali and me.”
Well, as much as a father should know,
I amended in my head. Christina was quiet in thought before she spoke again.

“Well, did she say yes?” Ali’s best friend finally asked. I smiled for the first time in hours.

“Would you like to hear the story?” She nodded as I proceeded to tell her the story, not just the proposal—all of it. The first time I saw Allison on the beach, our first meeting and kiss. I explained the school mix-up and the agony I had been in ever since. When I finished, Christina’s eyes were filled with tears, and she hugged me quickly.

“It’s all so
. . .
incredible,” she said, her voice hardly audible, emerald eyes sparkling with tears. “I just can’t believe what you both have been through.”

“Me neither,” I admitted. We both sat silently, processing the weight of the circumstance that still lies ahead. Christina took my hand and squeezed it in hers.

“Allison is the strongest and bravest person I have ever met,” she tells me but doesn’t look at me. “I won’t tell anyone what you shared with me, but I think the rumors will be hard on Ali, though she would never let on that it bothers her.”

“Rumors
. . .

“Look, Mr. Perez, we are all in high school, and there are people that are here wondering what you are doing
here
. The gossip is bound to fly.” The truth of her words stings in the open wound of my heart. Would poor Ali never have a break?

“Well,” I start to say but have to stop to swallow the lump in my throat. “You can tell them that I found her and rode with her to the hospital. You can also inform your classmates that I am no longer their teacher and, Christina.” She looks up at me with innocent round eyes. “Please call me Cooper or Coop.” Christina laughs, which seems like a forbidden sound in the waiting room.

“I can see why Ali fell so hard for you
. . .
Cooper. And I’ll keep the sharks at bay.” With that, my new ally crosses the ocean of bloodthirsty predators to defend myself and the woman I love. I lean my head to rest against the wall, and my eyes slowly droop. Before they close, two more people enter the waiting room, but my eyes are too heavy to identify them.

“Cooper,” the woman says.
That woman sounds like my mom,
I muse. “Cooper, honey,” she says and touches my arm. I force my eyelids open and look at the lady next to me.

“Mom?”
My foggy brain is trying to compute. “How did
. . .
when
. . .
who
. . .
?” I didn’t know where to start. I was trying to ask how she knew where I was, when did she get here, and who told her what was going on. Then I noticed the other person that was with her, Sean. He looked so subdued, which wasn’t fitting for him, even under the circumstances.

“Trudy called the restaurant looking for me. She told me what was going on and that you could use a friend,” Sean explained, and then a small smile crossed his lips. “It looks like you could have used backup. What happened to your face?” My mom touched the tender skin around my eye, and I winced back in pain.

“That would be me,” Mr. Starr spoke up. “There was uh
. . .
a misunderstanding.”

“You are Ali’s dad then, huh?” Sean asked, fairly amused.

“Sure am, Robert Starr.” The tall muscular man stuck out his hand and shook Sean’s in return. My mother stood up and was so petite she looked half his size. Knowing my mom, she’d probably try to punch Robert for what he’d done to my face—an eye for an eye.

“Hello, I am Danielle Perez,” she said calmly as she took her turn shaking Mr. Starr’s hand. I jumped up before anyone else could talk.

“Uh, Mom
. . .
I need to talk to you,” I blurted out. They both looked at me as if I was a lunatic. She dropped his hand and looked at me quizzically.

“Sure, son,” she said slowly and suspiciously before she turned back to Robert. “And you and I will talk later about that black eye you gave my
boy.” I covered my face with my hands, but to my surprise, Mr. Starr was laughing.

“I’ll let him explain.” He paused as I looked at him.
“Everything.”
The weight of
everything
was almost too much to bear. Sean took a step toward me, looking as uncomfortable as anyone would after two hours in the car with my mom.

“Hey, man.” I pull him in by the shoulder. “Thanks for coming.” His arms flash around me and tighten.

“I’m not here for you.” His words are almost comical. I lean back to see what he means. “Book Girl is going to need someone to hold her when she wakes up, and who is to say she won’t be asking for me?”The sound that escapes my throat is a cross between a laugh and a sob. Should I just ask him to be my best man so he gets the idea? Nah, I need to see the shock on his face when the time is right.

I turn toward the group of students still huddled in the corner. “Christina,” I call just loud enough. Her eyes snap to mine as she stands and crosses the room. When she reaches Sean and me, she stands silently at my side. “Sean, this is Allison’s best friend, Christina
. . .
Christina, this is my best friend, Sean.” They both reach out to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” Sean says, very debonair. I half expected him to bow and kiss her hand.

“And you, Sean,” Christina says, just as charmed. I look back between the two of them; they are still in a handshake that—let’s face it—is now just handholding.

I clear my throat. “Christina, would you mind filling Sean in on all the details.” I lean in to whisper in her ear. “Except the proposal, I need to tell him that myself.” Christina nods and smiles.

“Come on,” Sean protests. “Since when do you keep secrets from me?” I open my mouth to explain but find Christina handling it.

“Since you lost privileges by getting here so late,” she snaps in an adorably playful way. I’ve never seen Sean swoon, but I’m pretty sure this is what it looks like on him. I watch them walk off together and know I left them each in the right hands. I knew Sean would like Christina; she is a pretty blonde and feisty.

My mom and I excused ourselves, and we didn’t make it far before my mom turned and without words demanded answers. First, I had to give her the questions that she didn’t know to ask. We found a deserted corridor and took seats next to each other.

“Son.”
She touched my cheek. “First, are you doing okay?” I looked into her eyes, which was like looking into mine. This is my mom, the woman who would bring me a drink when I was sick with a straw bent in a crazy direction to cheer me up, who would patch up all my scraps and wounds, the woman who taught me how to love and be loved in return. She is my safety net.

“Mom”—my throat tightened—“she can’t die.” I watched her eyes fill with tears as she swallowed. My mom had spent some time with Ali this summer and fell just as much in love as I did. They had spent hours talking, and my mom taught Ali how to cook some of our family’s traditional dishes. My mom knew the pain it had caused me to have to end things with her. I think it hurt her almost as much.

Mom took my hand in hers. “So why don’t you start explaining everything
. . .
starting with the black eye.” I let out a humorless laugh and told her about meeting Robert Starr for the first time. I tried to play the victim, but my mom said she had to forgive him because of the shock.

“He didn’t know?” Her hand covered her mouth in a ladylike fashion.

“I guess not, but he figured it out pretty fast.” My mom looked into my eyes for a moment.

“When I spoke to you at Christmas, I asked if you had seen Ali, and you told me no.
That you needed to stay in town to work on lesson plans.”
Over the phone I could hide more from my mom, but in person she extracted the truth like a mind reader.

“I couldn’t help it.” I sounded like a pouty four-year-old. She just shook her head.

“The way you two are together is like
. . .
bread and butter. It would be unnatural to be apart.” My mouth dropped open. This is why we have mothers, they just make everything right sometimes. I put my head on her shoulder, craving the comfort I have needed the last two days.

“Now,” she said quietly, “tell me about quitting your job.” I sat up robotically and just stared at her calm face. “I’m no fool, son. You didn’t think that John wouldn’t call me.” It wasn’t a question. I should have realized that the first thing John would do is call my mom. Never trust a lawyer.

I wanted to deny or explain. Instead I found myself saying something completely different. “I didn’t have a choice.” I anticipated her telling me that I always had a choice. Wrong.

“There will be another job.” I’d always known my mom to be understanding, but this was
. . .
unreal. Maybe she knew how I was plagued with anxiety right now and was staying calm for my benefit. That just made me love her more.

So I guess I’ll test my theory. “I asked her to marry me.” Now my mom looked at me shocked. “She said yes
. . .
so
. . .
you’ll be getting that
daughter you always wanted.” Big tears rolled delicately from my mom’s eyes. “Are those happy tears?” I finally asked as I pulled her in for a hug.

It took her a moment to answer. “Yes,” she said in a gasp of breath. She hugged me back hard, and we both cried in earnest. There was a silver lining on the dark cloud that hung over the circumstances, but at least we had that. Hope and love.

Mom and I eventually went back to the waiting room to rejoin our group. Mr. Starr’s eyes had been closed until my mom walked up to him, hands on her hips. He jumped to his feet, expecting a mother’s revenge, but he didn’t know my mom. Dwarfed in comparison, my five-foot-tall mom wrapped her arms around Robert and just held him. For a moment, he was too dazed to respond but then tentatively returned the gesture. They just stood there
. . .
holding each other in some sort of parental understanding. I took my seat and continued with the waiting game.

The hours seemed to continue to drag on, every minute taking an hour. At the seven-hour mark, the doctor had sent a nurse to inform us the procedure will be longer than he had first expected. It was Laura, and she told us that it could be two, maybe three, more hours before they were finished. Of course we all had questions, and all she could tell us was that Ali was stable.
The way she said stable sounded unsure, which led to a different round of questions.

Laura held up her hands in a surrender position. “Look, if I had more information, I would be happy to give it to you. I need to get back in there.” She left before we could ask another thing. I looked around the almost-empty waiting room. All of Allison’s classmates had left except for Christina who was sitting with Sean. I sat alone and watched as Trudy, Mom, and Robert all whispered close together. Sean had an arm around Christina, letting her head rest on his shoulder, and she held the hand that stretched across his lap. Lonely doesn’t seem like a strong-enough word for
how I am feeling. I let my head rest against the back wall and replayed every second I had with Ali over and over in my mind.

Four hours later, Allison’s doctor emerged from the “restricted” doors. His face was ashen and drawn. He stood before our group which consisted of me, Robert, Trudy, Mom, Sean, and Christina. The doctor cleared his throat and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead before he spoke. He looked from Mr. Starr then to me then closed his eyes and shook his head in shock.

“Mr. Starr,” the doctor’s tired voice croaked, “this type of procedure is very difficult
. . .
”  Robert’s
arm wrapped around my shoulder as my legs started to give way. I knew Ali’s dad was crying, and I could feel tears rolling down my own cheeks. Everyone around us started to hold one another in support. Sean’s arms supported both Trudy and Christina while my mom’s arm was around my waist and holding Mr. Starr’s free hand; Trudy put an arm around my mom which connected us all. The doctor continued.

“Allison’s heart
. . .
well
. . .
her heart
. . .
stopped beating for over two minutes when we took her off bypass.” He had to pause at our sounds of despair. “We tried everything that we
medically
could, but we just couldn’t
. . .
”  I
stopped listening. Sound no longer reached my eardrums. Every part of me trembled with disbelief. No. No, there had to be some kind of mistake. If I could only go back there and see her—I’m sure she is going to be fine. She has to be fine.

I was vaguely aware that the doctor was still talking, but I still wasn’t hearing.

“Let me see her,” I demanded loudly. The doctor blinked a few times, and his eyes opened wide.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now
. . .

“I said LET ME SEE HER NOW!” I yelled. Robert gripped my shoulders, and Sean put a hand on my chest. I shook them both off.

BOOK: Teach Me
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