Page 26 of To Believe In You
Matt kept walking toward the exit. “I’ve got the rest of my life.”
Quieter now, Tim asked, “You’ll talk sense into him?”
“And lose an employee?” Lina’s teasing tone drew a smile to Matt’s face. At least Tim’s tactics hadn’t beaten her down.
He continued into the parking lot, though he didn’t relish the idea of getting in the car. The paint matched the rust-brown of the rotting areas by the wheel wells, camouflaging the decay, but based on the color alone, he could imagine a whole list of names Tim might dub the vehicle. The inside was worse. Dog hair covered the seats, a crayon or two had melted into the carpet, and a sticky substance Matt hoped was evaporated soda covered the hard surfaces.
But the car, as brown and sticky as it was, represented freedom he needed to make life work up here. Hard bought freedom, since the nine hundred dollars had set him back from his goal of repaying his parents.
What am I doing here, Lord?
Why piece together a whole string of part-time jobs in Lakeshore? He could’ve done the same back home.
He drew to a stop beside the car and stared down at the driver’s seat. He’d come for music and to make a difference in kids’ lives. He’d also come because Tim’s mission to push him back to the pinnacle of success—misguided as it was—did something for his ego.
The age-dulled brown paint in front of him grounded him in reality.
Tim wanted him back in Awestruck. Back in the fast, exotic sports cars he used to drive, in the fast lane literally and figuratively.
This car, this life, was a far, far cry from that. And rightfully so. God and sobriety were all the luxuries he needed.
He yanked open the door, dropped to the seat, and put a hand on the wheel.
The leather gripped his fingers, and he lifted his hand away from the tacky surface.
A far cry indeed.
7
Lina had spent too much of her evening waiting for the opportunity to talk to Matt to waste the chance now that she had it. But with only the two of them left in Key of Hope at the end of Friday, any attempt to speak would blare like something out of a megaphone. While he shut down the equipment in his classroom, she grabbed her pen and clicked it, as if that made the silence less intimidating.
If only Adeline didn’t leave at four thirty or five every day—and even earlier that afternoon to spend time with Gannon before the band left on Monday. She’d invited Lina to Saturday’s bonfire at John’s and had tried to talk her into taking the rest of Friday off too.
Lina accepted the bonfire invite—she needed to get out of the house more—but she’d opted to stay in the office, citing her Awestruck social media responsibilities. She managed the band’s official accounts and helped with all three of the guys’ personal accounts to varying levels. Gannon and Philip both posted their own content, and she moderated comments and DM’s. John had failed to follow through on posts despite her help with topic ideas and filters. She’d resorted to having him send a batch of pictures and videos once each month, and she scheduled his posts for him.
She could’ve done the work from home, but she liked to keep work somewhat separate. Besides, she wouldn’t have had an opportunity to talk to Matt if she’d left. He finished in his classroom and closed the door behind himself with a click. To get from the classroom to the other desk to sign out, he basically had to circle Lina’s desk. His clunking and creaking footsteps on the hardwood were probably the closest he’d come to starting a conversation.
She swiveled her chair to follow his movement. “Still planning to go home this weekend?”
The seat rattled as he rolled it closer to the workspace and woke the computer. “I’ll be back Monday. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t.” All week, he’d taken his job seriously, in part by showing more interest in talking to the kids than to her. She couldn’t take his avoidance personally when he also continued to rebuff Tim’s attempts to get him plugged in with Awestruck again.
Despite a one hundred-thousand-dollar debt.
Shehadto know more about that. “Did any of those jobs you applied for call you back?”
“A couple.” Matt used his pointer fingers and thumbs to peck notes on his last lesson, and his words came in pauses between taps. “Two interviews in the morning before I leave for Fox Valley.” Brow furrowed, he wrote a couple more words, then scrolled to review the screen before closing out.
He’d leave momentarily unless she got him talking.
She clicked her pen. “I hope you get one.”
He laughed ruefully. “I need about three.”
“That’s a lot to juggle.”
Matt shrugged as he stood. “Don’t have a lot going on anyway.”
