Page 3 of Claimed by the Fallen
His face is twisted with an odd expression. I fail to decipher the look before he schools his features. When we lock eyes, I tell myself to turn away—to break the spell. But Ican’t.
This happenssometimes.
I can recall at least four separate instances when I found myself caught up in my favorite teacher’s stare. Often, it happened when he was sitting at his computer, and I was supposed to be working on an assignment. I would have my head down when, like I was tied to the end of a rope Mr. Cohen tugged, my attention would be lured into the depths of his ocean blueeyes.
Then, without fail, I’d lose myself in his inquisitive and enthrallingexpression.
Most of the time, my characteristic shyness would allow me to break the entrancing stare-down. But today… I can’t explain it. I simply don’t want to turn away from him. It’s almost like Ican’tlook away from him. Perhaps it is because I may never see him again. Now that I’m no longer his student and will be moving to college in the fall, the chances of running into Mr. C. areslim.
My stomach twistspainfully.
A student reaches Mr. Cohen, and the spell ends. He turns to the young man and shakes his hand. I gasp, realizing I’d been holding my breath, and look down at the field below as I catch mybreath.
Smooth, Veronica,I chastise myself.Realsmooth.
Two
Graduation ends,and I am squished between my parents, smiling for what feels like the fiftieth photo that day. Oliver and Janet Messenger are nothing if not excited to have me, their only child, graduate from high school. Their smiles are bright, and their faces beam with pride. I don’t have the heart to tell them it isn’t that big of a deal. Lots of kids graduate high school. But telling them that won’t deter their enthusiasm,anyway.
“Alright,” my mom says, gesturing for Annie to give her the camera. “Now, one of you andRonnie.”
“Mom,” I say, exasperated. “Annie needs to go take pictures with her own family.” My poor best friend had been wrangled into taking our family photos for the better part of tenminutes.
“It’s fine, Ronnie.” Annie shuffles next to me, taking my parents’ places. “We can take a fewpictures.”
I sigh and straighten my white top. I’d unzipped the stifling gown the moment the ceremony ended. The fresh air feels heavenly, but I also want to show the short-sleeved crop top and high-waisted skirt underneath the gown for pictures. The look is modern, but alsomodest.
My mom gives us instructions to raise our diplomas and snaps at least a dozenpictures.
Finally, she lowers her camera and askes, “Now, where is Joey? I need a photo of all three ofyou.”
As if summoned, Joey appears behind my dad’s shoulder. “Right here,” he says, nearly giving the middle-aged man a heartattack.
“Perfect!” Mom exclaims. “Stand right in the middle. Yes. Right there. Perfect. Now, all of you,SMILE!”
I heed her command, but groan between clenched teeth. Joey uses the left hand situated on my waist to poke my side. His other hand holds hisdiploma.
I try not to laugh and ruin the picture. Doing so would only result in my mom subjecting us to evenmore.
Still clicking the camera, Mom demands Annie and I lean in toward Joey. We obey, and she captures several morephotos.
Finally, my mom lowers the digital camera and proceeds to scroll through the pictures. “These aregreat!”
“Good.” I’m relieved to hear it. “Can my friends go hang out with their familiesnow?”
“Of course,” Mom replies, still looking through the pictures on thescreen.
Dad steps up and hugs both of my friends. “I hope to see the two of you tomorrow for Veronica’s birthdaydinner.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Joeyreplies.
“I’ll be there,” Annie declares at the sametime.
“Excellent.” Dad moves and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “I can’t believe my little girl is all grown up!” He places an embarrassingly loud kiss on mytemple.
“Dad!” I whine, wiping the moisture off my skin. “Stop.”
My friends and Dad laugh at myexpense.
