Walking in the Shadows (2 page)

“I came strai
ght from school to here,
” I
finally
replied
,
watching
the
brows knit
in confusion
over her warm chocolate eyes
.

“You saw him at school? He’s
too old to be a student though…
”
H
er voice tr
ailed
off as she looked at me
.  I was rigid
;
frozen, really.
“
No!
He’s
not your teacher
is he
?”

I ran a
hand through my long wavy brow
n hair and nodded
.

“He didn’t know you were
a
student ther
e?”
Kirsten
hissed
, pulling
me to sit next to her beh
ind the register.
We both smiled as one of the gossip girls that haunted the place walked by.

“I told him I went to Amherst. I
think he just assumed I meant the c
ollege.”

“The
n today you deserve
to be spoiled. That’s no
way to start your senior year at a brand new scho
ol, especially after what you’
ve been through.”

“I should have told him my age
,
and now I’
ve ruined everything.”

“I doubt it,
”
Kirsten
squeezed my shoulder
.

“How is it not ruined?”
I asked, my stomach squeezing up my rib cage
in angst
.

“You wouldn’t have been
together if you had told him, well…if he had understood you meant high school.”

“
I guess it’s better to be ruined than to never have exist
e
d at all
?”
I
quipped,
but the feel
ing in my stomach only worsened.
“I tried to transfer out of his class, but my guidance counselor said she wanted to talk to him about it first.”

“What do you think he’
ll say?”
Kirsten
asked
,
kind
eyes moving
from
side to side as she took in my face.

“I have no clue…I would imagine he never wants t
o see me again…so I’m sure he’
ll be more than happy to sign off on it.”

“I doubt that
Vera
. This is someone who lo—”
Kirsten
began
.

I cut her off. 
“Don’t say it!
That
will only make it worse.”

Kirsten
pursed
her lips before speaking.
“You know it’s true.”

“It doesn’t mat
ter now
,
does it?” I snapped, but
there was no strength to the conviction.

I sat with
arms crossed
and
glared
at my guidance counselor. She
gla
red
back over her reading glasses
;
I was a bug she w
anted
to squash
.  I was so surprised when she finally spoke.  The voice and the words
came out like honey.

“Mr. Knightley believes that t
his class will be beneficial to
you and so do I. I’
m not going to authorize the t
ran
sfer
.
”
The smile was utterly fake
.

“Okay,
”
I replied as my nails dug into my rib cage.

“Is there something else
I can help you with?
”
t
he guidance counselor probed
,
her
penciled
eyebrows hovering over the rim of her glasses.

“No, thanks
for
your
help
though,
”
I answered standing and grabbing my book bag from the floor.

“If you need anything else
,
please
let me know,
”
s
he said to my back
, and I glanced over my shoulder
sending her a weak smile before I slipped out the door.

When
I walked into the classroom
ten minutes
late
all
eyes were on me
,
including
Tad’s.
His eyes moved quickly across my face and his lips pursed as if he was trying to determine that I would be okay,
but
I
w
ouldn’
t show hi
m that
. I slid into my sea
t at the back of the room and looked down at my hands.

“Nic
e o
f you to join us
Vera
,
” Tad commented
,
pulling at his tie and tipping his head to the right.

“Sorry,
” I mumbled
. I didn’t enjoy the fact that I was no longer his equal, but I couldn’t let him see that I cared.

Tad stared at me for a moment, and then shook his head,
“Well, let’s continue, the
f
undamental wrongs of Heathcliff
are…yes
,
Amanda?”

I
rushed out of the classroom
as soon as the bell rang
;
I felt his
eyes burning into my back as I
ran down the hall to get away from him.  I stopped at my locker
,
leanin
g my back against it and ran
my hands through my hair. I tried to ignore the memory of the first time I had met him
.

~~~

“C
haucer?” a
yo
ung man sitting across
from me asked
;
lowering his own book.
He had a managed mess of sandy brown hair and what seemed to be a permanent five o’clock shadow
;
the appearance of a typical “bad” boy
.
 
T
he
unexpected
sweetness of his smile and his eyes showed otherwise.

“T
he father of British Literature,
”
I replied with a smile
.

The way his eyes smiled with his lips
washed everything I was feeling away
. It left
me calm
,
but pull
ed
me
to him with an anxious wanting—one that I had not felt before
.
He
stood
,
thro
w
ing
his coffee cup
in the trash
and gathered up his books. I didn’t know where the boldness came from, but
I signaled
for him
to sit down
.

“My name’
s
Tad
.”

“
Vera
,
”
I said
as I tried
to remember to breathe.

“So you enjoy British Lit?”

“That’
s
where it all started isn’t it?”

“Indeed
, I
believe you’
re correct.
I actually just finished my degree and teaching credentials in that exact subject,
”
h
e replied
,
sitting and leaning towards me.

“Amherst?”
I asked.

“You?”
h
e countered
,
nodding his head with
a crooked smile
. It was at that moment I knew I was done for.

“Amherst,”
I
answered
,
failing
to mention at that time that it was Amherst
High School and that I had not yet attended a day there. I
had only just arrived from
the other side of the state where I hoped my curse had
been left
behind
.

That had been my first mistake of many. 
In hindsight I realized that I
should
have
told
Tad
everything
, and that he
was missing major gaps of what
made me who I was. He thought I was much older than I actually was because of those circumstances that made me different than any other teenage girl
;
o
nes that I had neglected to tell
him.

“
Vera
…Are you okay?”

Tad
’s voice broke m
e
back into the present.

“That’s
a loaded question Mr. Knightley,
”
I snapped
,
my voice much fiercer than I thought it would be
– or should have been
.

“
Vera
…please?”
h
e probed,
the
voice pained.

I turned and opened my locker
,
throwing my books in and slamming
it shut. “Goodbye
,
”
I retorted
,
and I could feel his eyes burning
into my back as
silent tears fell
down my cheeks.

Every
where I looked
reminde
d me of him; of
some memory
that was so amazing i
t hurt.
It
was as if we had an
integral
understanding
of what
t
he other felt even if we didn’t
agree, but no amount of understanding could fix my mistake.

I pulled my knees into my
chest
s
that
I was
curled up i
n the fetal
position
. I wanted to yell and scream
,
but all I could do was sob. How could he look at me
like that?
How could he s
till
be
angry—
when all I could feel was
a
ragged
hole in my
chest where my heart use
d
to be.
It seemed it would be easier to be
angry with him tha
n to be miserable with the
loneliness
that filled everywhere I looked.

Lying
in my bed
hurt, as it
reminded me
of him
laying his head on my chest
as I ran my hands threw his hair and he read me some novel he loved
. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter
,
wonder
ing if I squeezed hard enough,
woul
d
it all
go away?
The scent h
is cologne
had left on my pillow
wafted
over me and
in an instant
I found myself yelling for no reason
,
ripping the sheets off in anger at my
stupidity
. I fell into the wall
with
my sheets shredded half on the
bed
,
half off the bed
and
ruined. This was my fault. I
f I had just told
him,
let him know the truth
,
things would be different
.

I slammed my head back against the wall
.
I didn’
t know the truth anymore
because
I had
wandered around it for so long.
I had
p
ushed
my past away and let my heart linger with him for too long
.
It felt as if my heart
was stuck somewhere between his classroom and the coffee shop we met in.