“Beth? Beth? You still with me?”
Beth stared at the newspaper layout sheets with the same blank gaze she’d been aiming at the world for days. Ever since she’d caught Adam with Kaia outside the locker room, ever since she’d blown up at him and run away, she’d been a little bit lost. The first couple of days hadn’t been so bad, as she’d been riding a wave of anger that swept away any lingering doubts or concerns. She’d avoided him in the hallways, she’d ditched out on their date- and, while working behind the counter at the diner, she’d pretended the tomatoes and onions were his head, and spent a pleasant hour chopping him to pieces, over and over again.
But after that-well, she was still mad, but she was a little mad at herself, too. She was ready to kiss and make up-but Adam, it seemed, was too busy to take her calls. She’d spent all weekend trying to track him down, stealing a few minutes from her shift to sneak off with a cell phone; bribing her little brothers into shutting up long enough to make a phone call; taking breaks every ten minutes from her stacks of homework to check her phone, see if he’d called. No.
Maybe this was it, she’d decided after a fitful night of sleep. She’d screwed up the best thing she had in her life-though, if he was willing to let go that easily, maybe it wasn’t something worth fighting for after all.
“What?” Beth suddenly realized that Jack Powell, sitting across from her in the newspaper office, was holding up two layout sheets in front of her and waiting for some kind of response. Too bad she had no idea what he had asked. “Oh, sorry-uh, yeah, that looks fine.”
Jack Powell laid the sheets down on the desk and turned in his chair to look at Beth head-on.
“Beth, is everything okay?” he asked with concern. “You’ve been a little out of it all afternoon-if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be…?”
“No!” she cried in alarm. Sitting here with Mr. Powell, she felt almost secure again, almost calm, for the first time in days. Yes, she was still thinking about Adam constantly, working through their fight again and again, trying to see where everything had gone so wrong-but somehow, having Jack there, droning on in his delicious voice about column space or layouts or whatever, made everything seem a little more manageable. Today he was wearing a stylish button-down shirt, with colorful vertical stripes running down its length-it made him look years younger. Good thing he’s not, Beth pointed out to herself, or sitting in this small, dark room with him, facing him across the table, our heads leaning in together, our hands brushing past each other to dig through the piles of papers-it would be a whole different story. One her boyfriend wouldn’t like very much.
Then she remembered she might not have a boyfriend anymore, and the thought hit her with a stinging pain that brought tears to her eyes. She took a few deep breaths and looked away from Mr. Powell for a moment, calming herself down.
“No,” she finally repeated in a steadier voice. ‘There’s really nowhere I’d rather be. I just-I’m just having a little trouble concentrating today. That’s all.”
“Well, that’s obvious,” he said sympathetically. “Here’s a radical idea-want to talk about it?”
Beth cringed. Talk about her love life with a teacher? A teacher she just happened to have an absurdly large crush on? Didn’t seem like the best idea.
“I know it’s weird, since I’m your teacher,” he said, reading her mind. He placed a tentative hand on hers. “But Beth, I’d really like to be your friend, too.”
Maybe it was the warmth in his voice, or the soft pressure of his hand, but something inside of Beth just broke.
“It’s my boyfriend,” she said, choking back the tears. Powell nodded encouragingly. “Things have been weird lately, and we’re fighting all the time, and now he’s not speaking to me and I just-”
She broke off and buried her face in her arms, hiding the humiliating tears.
She felt a gentle hand on her back and, instinctively, tensed up.
“Beth,” he said firmly. “Beth, sit up, look at me-you don’t have to be embarrassed.”
She reluctantly straightened and faced him. He pulled a light blue handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her-even in her dismay, she could appreciate the chivalry. She blew into it noisily, wiped the tears away from her eyes, then sat still, taking some deep breaths and twisting the soft cloth nervously in her hands.
“I think I may have ruined everything,” she murmured, knowing from the look in his eyes that he understood.
Jack Powell shook his head.
“Beth, Beth, Beth, it’s not you, it’s him. I promise you that.”
“How do you know?”
“Difficult as it may be to imagine, I was a teenage boy once. Trust me, we’re all idiots.”
Distraught as she was, Beth managed a small smile.
“No, I’m sure whoever this boy is,” he continued, “whatever the problem is, he’s being an idiot. He’s just a boy. But you, Beth,” he paused, looking her up and down appraisingly. “You’re a woman. A beautiful, intelligent, kindhearted
Beth flushed furiously, and her eyes darted around the room; she was unsure where to look, what to do, faced with words like that from a man like him.
“He can’t give you what you need, Beth,” he told her, slowly running a hand through her long blond hair. She wanted to pull away but didn’t. “You need maturity, understanding, passion,” he continued. “This guy doesn’t deserve you.”
She looked down at the table, but then he said her name again and when she looked up, his handsome face was right there, inches from hers and moving closer, and his hands were on her, drawing her in, and then their lips met and he held her to him.
“Oh, Beth,” he murmured, and his lips were on her again, his tongue pushing its way into her mouth before she knew what was happening, exploring the moist, dark spaces inside of her, his hands running up and down her back-
She pushed him away, hard, jumped out of her seat and began backing toward the door.
“What are you-? Mr. Powell, what…?”
But she knew what. And she wanted to throw up, wanted to scrub the taste of him out of her mouth, wanted to fly at him, pound his chest with her fists, tear at his face with her nails, knock that bemused look off his poisonously handsome face. But instead she just stood in the doorway, unable to take a step forward-or back.
He started toward her. “Beth, I’m sorry, calm down, just sit down for a moment,” he pleaded.
He held his arms out from his sides, a conciliatory gesture, and gave her a weak half smile-it grew wider as she remained unmoving, then took a hesitant step toward him. He looked so stricken and apologetic, and after all, hadn’t he just done exactly what she’d been dreaming of him doing all these weeks? Maybe, Beth realized, horrified, she’d sent out some kind of signal, had drawn him in, overwhelmed his common sense-maybe she was the one who’d ruined everything.
“Come back in,” he repeated, “and we’ll talk about it. Everything will be fine.”
More talk. But that’s how it had all started-and after what had just happened, what was she supposed to say?
Beth shook her head, tears streaming freely down her face. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again.
And ran out of the room.
Kaia pressed herself into the shadows, shaking with anger.
Beth, blinded by tears, ran by without seeing her. Kaia would deal with her later.
For now: Jack Powell. The asshole, the liar.
After blowing off Adam, she’d come to take another after-hours crack at the French teacher, hoping to convince him that rules were made to be broken.
But apparently, he already knew that.
She stood outside his doorway and watched as he took a few halfhearted steps after Beth, then sighed and slumped back down into his chair. He tapped an index finger rhythmically against his lips, looked up at the empty doorway, and then checked his watch-as if wondering whether she would come back, and how long he should choose to wait.
