Page 27 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
Her line of questioning annoys me. Lesley should know better. “Just like I help any other student who comes to me seeking help.”
Lesley scrubs her forehead as she paces the room. “I've always told you to be careful.”
“I am. Always. Why do you think my door is always open?”
I am all too aware of the hormones flying around as far as my young female students are concerned. Years later I have the same problem. It still hasn't stopped. I'm in the wrong profession; I love to teach, but the admiration from some of my students makes it a chore.
“You should have false teeth—stained and yellow—and maybe get one of those prosthetics which make you have a great big beer belly. I have a friend whose grandson works in the makeup department at his college. Want me to have a word?”
“You might have to,” I tell her.
“Did you give her preferential treatment?”
“I told you, no. She was coming to me for help, and I honestly don't know why her ex would implicate me or why he would want to shoot me. There was never anything more.”
“More?”
Like it was with Megan. I took an interest in her because I wanted to help her. She looked so lost and vulnerable, like she was drowning in a sea of hopelessness. “I was careful not to become her friend,” I clarify. It perplexes me. When the police told me the news it hit me like a bullet.
“You could have been killed. You have a daughter to think about.”
“I know.” The shock of the news hasn't quite sunk in that I was a target, not a hero. The alleged so-called hero who saved a girl from a bullet, and now it turns out I was the intended target. The police wanted to know if there was anything inappropriate between me and the girl.
I denied it. There was nothing. She would have said the same.
“Why would her boyfriend know about you?” Lesley asks.
“He's not her boyfriend. He's her ex.”
“But how does he know about you enough to want to put a bullet in you?”
“I don't know. Maybe she mentioned me to him a few times. I don't know.”
“Oh, Lance.” When she looks at me, Lesley's eyes are full of pity.
Will this come out in the press? I hope not. The shooting was a while back and I’m hoping people will be sick of it and in time it will all be forgotten. The girl lived. I lived. End of story.
“There are farewell drinks next week, for Professor Coyle,” Lesley says. “Are you going?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you have Cassie?” she asks.
“No, but I might go and see her. It’s not my weekend, but Vivian doesn’t mind if I spend time with her on ‘her’ weekend.” Cassie’s feeling a bit insecure every time I leave her. She’s scared I’ll get shot and will die. It kills me that this fear is already planted in her little mind.
“Is Cassie okay?” Lesley’s eyes shine when talking about my little girl. She has grandchildren and she loves them. She loves my Cassie, too.
“I’m worried about her, but I think she’s going to be fine.”
“Is Vivian still trying to take care of you?” There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. She knows about my ‘marriage’.
I don’t even bother giving her an answer.
Chapter 13
MEGAN
I don’t want Lance to get the wrong idea, but I need to see him to return his pen.
