Page 11 of The Deadbeat Next Door

CHAPTER THREE

Carrie

“Why did you do it?”

I looked up from The Color Purple, which I was re-reading so I’d be ready to discuss it with my classes the next day, to see Kayla Wilson standing on the other side of my desk. Her eyes were red like she’d been crying or was about to cry, and there were dark circles under them. Her hair was greasy and her t-shirt was dirty. I didn’t have to ask what she was talking about, I already knew. Already felt like I’d betrayed her. “You weren’t in class today, even though your home-room teacher marked you as present. I reported your absence to the principal because I was worried about you.”

Her mouth pressed into a flat, grim line and she shook her head, her chin wobbling just a bit. “I thought you were on my side, but the first time I make a mistake…” Her voice shook and she curled her hands into tight fists. “Now, I’ve got to stay after school for detention tomorrow and there’ll be no one to get my little sister and brother from the bus.”

“What about your dad?” I asked, feeling like the lowest of the low.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s working. It’s my job to get them from the bus. I need to be there.”

“Did you tell the principal that?”

“Yes, but she didn’t care about that any more than she cared about my reason for skipping class.”

“Why did you skip?”

“I forgot to put sister’s favorite stuffed animal in her backpack,” she said. “She goes everywhere with that thing and she was so upset…I got a ride home with a friend and took it to her.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my guilt ratcheting up. “If you’d just told someone…”

“No one would have understood why it was important for me to take a stuffed animal to my sister.” She shook her head. “I’ve got to catch the bus.” She walked out, her shoulders hunched, her shoulder blades jutting out sharply under her thin shirt.

“Shit,” I muttered. This wasn’t what I’d intended. I just…I was worried about her.

I loved all my students, I really, truly did. Some of them were spoiled entitled brats and some of them yelled at me or cussed me out or rolled their eyes at me, but they were all just kids, trying to figure out who they were and what they wanted and how to handle life. I didn’t always like them, but I always loved them, like a parent loves her children.

I considered it a weakness and a blessing that I could see the good in every student, because I could help those who’d let me, but I also hurt, really hurt when one of my kids was hurting, and Kayla was really, really hurting. She was hurting and I didn’t know why and I didn’t know how to help her. She was one of my brightest students. I think she loved to read more than I did. She could analyze a book on a level way beyond that of an average ninth grader, probably because she’d been reading everything she could get her hands on since she was a kid. That’s really all I knew about her, except that she lived in a decent neighborhood on the edge of a bad neighborhood with her dad.

I also knew her dad was in a car accident two years ago, an accident that had killed her mother, and he’d had a slow and painful recovery. Kayla had never been particularly outgoing or outspoken, but she used to smile more and she used to get excited about discussing books. Lately, she’d been withdrawing into herself. She’d been walking around with dark smudges under her eyes, like she hadn’t been sleeping, and she’d seemed far away, even when she was right in front of me.

So, when she wasn’t in class, I reported her to the principal. I love my students, but I’m not their friend and I didn’t want to lose Kayla to whatever demons were haunting her. Better she hate me than slip through the cracks, start skipping school or hanging out with kids who lead her into trouble. For some kids, getting in serious trouble is enough to snap them out of it, to get them back in line, and I believed Kayla cared enough to be scared straight, so to speak. I’d done it for her, with the full knowledge that she might never forgive me. I was okay with that.

Except I’d betrayed her and I’d made her life more difficult. Now, there was one less adult in the school she trusted and her brother and sister would be getting off the bus to an empty house while she was in detention the next day. I dropped my head in my hands and sighed. I usually stayed at school late, working on lesson plans and grading papers, but I’d had enough. I needed to be home.

I gathered up my stuff and headed out. I managed not to run into anyone. I got back to my quiet, calm house and shut the door behind me with a sigh.

I kicked off my shoes and dropped onto the couch, feeling weary and drained.

When my phone rang, I picked it up without looking at caller ID.

“Hey, Aunt Carrie.” It was Harrison, but he sounded off, not like himself at all. He’d broken up with his sweet girlfriend, Frankie, and I’d made the mistake of trying to push them together by arranging for them to both be at my house at the same time. It kind of blew up in my face and I’d expected Harrison to be mad at me, but he sounded sad. I couldn’t help worrying about Harrison. Every time he got down, I wondered if he was going to slip back into being that angry, aggressive, troubled kid he’d been when he’d first come to live with me. Every time I saw him pull back from life I wondered if I’d waited too long to get him away from his father. If I’d done enough to help him get over the trauma of his childhood. “Any more bad dates? I need some cheering up.”

“What’s wrong?”

He huffed. “Nothing except I’m an idiot and pushed away the one girl I want more than anyone.”

“Why?” I asked. “I know you’re crazy about her.”

“I’m not good for her and she deserves…She deserves a guy who’s as good and real and kind as she is.”

“You’re a good person, Harrison. I wish you could see how lucky she’d be to have you.”

“You’re a tiny bit biased, Aunt Carrie. I’ve got issues a mile wide and five miles deep and no one should have to deal with them but me. Frankie is just figuring out her own life, she doesn’t need to be weighed down by my shit.”

The tears I’d been just barely holding back spilled over my lower lids and down my cheeks. “We’ve all got issues, Harrison. You should focus on all the wonderful things you do for people, the good, kind man you are now, rather than on your past.”

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