Page 12 of Open Water

“When we go up there, can you let me have a few minutes with Lukas alone? Just so we can kind of talk it out and clear the air. Otherwise it will just be a bit… I don’t know. Awkward?” Tom can barely speak. Awkward is an understatement. Awkward is not even close to the truth.

“Whatever, Dad.”

“Thank you,” Tom whispers. Stomping on the ground not even close to the cigarette end that burns brightly on the step in the fading light.

He is about to pass out. Faint. Well, die. Almost.

He just wants this over with. Honestly. So, he can go home and dig through the kitchen cabinets for another bottle of something alcoholic enough to drown himself in.

Tom is a bad person. He hasn’t changed. Tom who has spent the last eighteen years trying to reinvent himself into a decent human being with values and kindness and empathy and love in his heart. Yet, here he is back to the scene of the crime, and all his body can do is muster up anger, shaking and pulsing through his veins like he is seventeen all over again, full of hormones and rage and violence and desire.

He still walks through the door into the classroom, leaving Max leaning against the wall in the corridor with a smirk on his face.Little fucker.He will no doubt have his ear to the door trying to listen in. Not that Tom cares. He will have to sit down and spill the truth to Max at some point anyway. Get all this lying off his chest.

“Fucking Hell. Björklund.”

Damn.“Vasquez,” Tom says coldly and Lukas just sits there on a chair. Arms crossed over his chest. Eyes firmly on Tom.

“Where is Max?” Lukas says as Simon takes a few steps forward, positioning himself between the two of them. Like he always did.

“Outside. I was going to ask if I could speak to you in private before he comes in.” Tom is trying here.Please. Just let me talk to you.

“I’m not leaving,” Simon says, taking another step forward.

“Simon, it’s fine.“ Lukas kind of sighs. Getting up off the chair and instead leaning against the desk at the front so he is at eye-level with Tom who takes a few tentative steps towards the two of them, gesturing to the chair that is pulled out beside him.

“You seriously want him here?” Simon almost shouts out in despair.

“I’ll give you three minutes, Tom. This isn’t about anything else than your kid.” Lukas’s voice is steady, but Tom can tell. His hands are shaking just as badly as his own and he is doing that swallowing thing again. Lukas is just as terrified as Tom. And Tom wants to cry. He didn’t mean for this to happen. He has fucked up so badly. He shouldn’t be here. He just shouldn’t.

Simon just shrugs his shoulders and leaves the room, hurling the classroom door shut behind him to the point that the windows shake, leaving the two of them in an uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry,” Tom starts. He doesn’t know how to continue.

“Not good enough,” Lukas replies, whilst Tom just stares at his hands.

This is no good. This is nowhere near good enough, he knows that.

“Look, I have moved on, I haven’t spent the last decades reliving the shit years I spent at school here. It happened, and it was fucking school. It’s not important now.” Lukas’s hands are all over the place. Waving around.

“I made your life hell,” Tom whispers. “I’ve had to live with that for the last decade. It’s not something I can just dismiss. I need to apologise.”

“Well, you have apologised. Now get the hell out of my classroom.” Yeah, now Lukas is shouting. Great.

“Can I try to explain?” Tom is doing his work voice. Gesturing and trying to get Lukas to sit down again and not pace the room like his arse is on fire.

“There is nothing to explain. You are an arsehole. I teach your kid. Let’s just get him to graduate and then, I hope I will never see you again.”

“There is. There are things I need to say to make you understand. It was never your fault. It was nothing you did. It was me being an inexcusable waste of a human being.”

“Yes, I wholeheartedly agree with that,” Lukas huffs out, his voice dripping in anger.

“I’m so sorry.” Tom is close to tears. Something big and black and horrible is expanding in his chest, and if he doesn’t rein himself in, heisgoing to burst into tears.

“Three minutes.” Simon slams the door shut behind him, then Max opens the door and follows him in looking a bit confused. Half amused. Weirded out.

“Let’s sit down and hash this out,” Lukas says with a deep breath.

It takes less than ten minutes. Work plans and assignment dates and thirty minutes before class with Lukas on a Tuesday and Thursday, with clearly planned small chunks of learning that Lukas will orally assess in the presence of another teacher to pass off as exam questions.

---