“I’m not sure. I never really thought about it because the idea of leaving home is a scary one.”
“Where is home?”
I’m careful with my answer.
“Not far from here, as it happens.” I take a deep breath. “Would it shock you to learn I live in a motorcycle club with close to fifty bikers, of which my father is one?”
There’s an awkward silence and I wonder if I’ve shocked the hell into him.
“No.”
I turn to stare into his eyes and swallow hard at the way he is staring into mine.
“No?”
“No, it doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“It should.”
He shrugs. “You still haven’t answered my question. What do you want to do after graduation?”
“I like the idea of teaching.”
He raises his eyes and I add. “Kindergarten mainly. I love young kids and would hope to make a difference to their earlier years.”
“That’s an admirable ambition.”
“What made you decide on teaching, sir?”
“Call me Drake. Sir sounds so formal.”
“But you told me to call you sir.” I remind him of his instruction to the class on the first day.
“Did I?” He shrugs. “If I did, that was before we became friends.”
He grins and raises his soda to mine. “We can be friends. I don’t believe there is anything in the rule book that says otherwise.”
“Of course.” I touch cans with him and lean back, staring at the tree line, loving the privacy this is giving.
“What made you decide on teaching, um, Drake?”
It’s a simple enough question, but he stalls on his answer.
After a while, he says in a low voice, “This is my first job and I kind of fell into it.”
“How?” I’m surprised at that and he leans forward, the can dangling from his fingers as he considers his answer.
It’s as if the air changes and something almost sinister creeps in and then he says carefully, “I’d rather not say.”
“Why not?” I detect tension between us and as he turns, I’m alarmed at the pain I see etched on his face as he whispers, “We all have a past, Imogen. Secrets, things we’d rather not revisit and choose to park for another day.”
My breath hitches as I sense he is clinging to a secret I may not like and yet I’m curious and won’t let this lie.
“Sometimes it helps to talk.”
“Not in this case.”
He shakes his head and takes a swig of soda. “Anyway, we have pie and I kind of love pie.” He winks and as he stands, he drops the can on the table. “I won’t be long.”