Echo, p.23
Echo, page 23
part #1 of The Elan Series
“May I sit with you?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said nodding to the bench across from me.
“I’m Dori,” she answered. “I teach math.”
“Tara.” I waved at myself. “I’m co-teaching with Mr. Howard. Senior English.”
“I’ve got mostly ninth graders.” She rolled her eyes at me.
“Sorry.” I apologized, not knowing why, and we both laughed.
“No, really. They’re not that bad,” she said, taking a seat. Enormous sunglasses covered more than half of her tiny, angular face. Her hair caught the rays of sun and deflected it like a halo on an angel. She opened her pop can and took a sandwich out of her little red lunch bag. “So, this is your first year?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I answered, chewing a piece of rubbery chicken.
“It’s my second. I taught here last year.” She stared at me, her mouth curling into an impish grin.
“You like it?” I stabbed a piece of pineapple, tossing it in my mouth and chasing it with apple juice.
“Yeah. I grew up here, so I know most of the families,” she said between bites.
“It’s a beautiful day.” I sighed, smiling up at the sun.
“That’s why I eat lunch out here every chance I get.” Dori tilted her face upward in response. “Plus, I have a younger brother I keep an eye on.” She made a face at me. “He tends to get himself in trouble sometimes.”
I looked around the courtyard searching for any suspicious-looking boys who were trying to avoid Dori.
“He’s not here today. He’ll be here Monday,” she said, without looking at me. “He thinks starting school in the middle of the week is stupid.”
Before I could respond, the buzzer sounded to end first lunch.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, bouncing from her seat. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Sure.” I waved as she hurried away. I tossed my trash and followed the mass of students back into the sterile, bland building. I wound my way through the tight pods of students hovering in the halls when I was shoved from behind. I collided with a girl standing near a locker.
“What the---“ The willowy brunette in cut-off shorts and cowboy boots straightened her halter top and scowled at me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to---“ My apology was interrupted by another vision of Derek. This time his face hovered over the girl’s shoulder, his lips pressed against her neck. In a matter of seconds the vision faded and my sight returned. The crowd had thinned and the girl was nowhere in sight.
I found Mr. Howard at his desk finishing his lunch. He cleared a spot and we spent the next hour going over what the students needed to know to pass the Gateway Exam, what the standards were, and how to write co-teaching lesson plans. We even squeezed in the grading policy.
The bell sounded for fifth hour, a small honors class, which essentially repeated the activities of the four previous ones. Sixth hour was the last class of the day and also the liveliest. Students came in shouting conversations and obscenities but soon quieted when they saw “the new lady.” A couple of boys made low whistling noises and I glanced up in time to see Josh slug another boy in the arm.
“Shut up,” Josh muttered to the boy as he shuffled past my desk. “Hey, Miss McAllister.”
“Hey, Josh.” I smiled at him, as the bell rang. Mr. Howard entered and gave his same first-day speech. I glanced around the room at what Mr. Howard had called “a hard bunch.” Most were kids he’d had last year as juniors, and for some, this would be there third year with him. He’d explained that many of them came from broken homes, abusive parents, or poverty. Most of the guys in sixth period were fathers or were the primary provider for their families, and he knew for certain that five of the girls were already mothers.
As I scanned the faces, wondering how I was going to motivate this group, my eyes lit on the girl who had triggered my earlier vision. She scowled at me and my stomach knotted. How was this seventeen year old girl connected to my ex?
I spent the next two days trying to figure out a way to approach her, but still didn’t know what to say when sixth hour rolled around Friday afternoon.
The students were like chained chaos in rare form again. Here we go, I thought as I turned in my chair to file a couple of folders in my mini cabinet. The conversations of the students cackled and collided around me. I overheard Josh Mason and Ellis Mitchell discussing the scrimmage game on Saturday.
“So, who’s the new chick working with Mr. Howard this year?” a husky male voice called. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and I swallowed. Get a grip, Tara. It can’t be him.
“Dude, she’s fine,” Ellis said, drawing out ‘fine’ to three seconds and a growl.
“Shut up,” Josh grumbled. “She’s right there.” Leave it to Josh to defend my honor.
“So, she already knows it,” Ellis said.
I was still bent over the file cabinet, too embarrassed to look up. I knew I was going to have a tough time teaching seniors, with being only four years older than most of them. I didn’t think I’d have so many comments made about my looks, though. By my own assessments, I was pretty average looking.
“If you weren’t here the first day to meet Miss McAllister,” Mr. Howard announced as he pulled the door closed to start class, “then you don’t know that she works for the FBI and she’s been placed here to observe you all. She has been trained to detect lies and drugs. So watch it.”
Most of the students snickered at the joke. I rolled my eyes at Mr. Howard’s wry humor, fighting keep a straight face. I turned in my chair to check for any new faces, noting that Cheyenne Harper, the girl from my vision, was in her seat. I’d decided just to corner her and ask her about Derek.
“Really, Miss McAllister is here to work specifically with those of you who need the most help preparing for the Gateway Exams,” he explained.
I looked into all the staring eyes and gave the ‘teacher look’ to Ellis, willing him to straighten up.
“She can work with me anytime, Mr. Howard,” a student from the back called. It was the same voice that I’d heard joking with Josh and Ellis as they entered class. I tilted my head, not believing what I was hearing. There’s no fucking way!
“You know what, Derek,” Mr. Howard said. “You’ll be the first one assigned for one-on-one with Miss McAllister.”
My brain went numb. Derek? I thought.
“Cool. That’s a bet!” he said.
I slowly turned from my desk. Our eyes locked, and a slow, smoldering smile crept across his face. Then the nausea hit me.
“Mr. Howard,” was all I could get out. I fled the room and made it to a trash can at the walkway corner before my greasy lunch came up. After the heaves subsided, I rushed in the back door of the main building to the closest faculty bathroom. I checked under both stalls and locked the main door.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” I spat at my pasty reflection. “Derek is here. In high school. In my class! Oh, fucking SHIT.” Other curses ran through my brain, but it wasn’t working to produce any more words. I leaned against the sink, tightness gripping my chest. I felt a full blown panic attack building. What the hell was I going to do?
The same thoughts kept circling over and over in my mind. Derek was a high school student. I’d had a summer fling with a minor. He lied to me about his age! And to top it off, he was a freakin’ student in the same high school I was teaching at.
The cold water on my face did little to take away the flush. I stepped out into the freezing hallway and found a chair tucked behind the stair well. I sat down and, as my stomach kept knotting, I prayed that I wouldn’t vomit again.
My mind ran through the myriad of thoughts all vying for my attention. What was I going to do? I couldn’t continue teaching here knowing that Derek went to this school, much less was one of my students. Could I keep teaching at all? I’d had a relationship with a minor. Oh, my God!
Under all the chaos, a voice of reason sounded. Derek never told me his age. I assumed he was old enough. I choked back bile as I realized I’d been played by a teenager.
The slight pressure of a hand on my shoulder sent a vibration of serenity humming through me. Before I even saw his face, I knew it was Derek. He knelt in front of me, both of us concealed by the stair case. His hand covered mine and I knew if he let go, I would fall off the edge of sanity.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest,” he spoke low.
“You lied to me,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You never told me you were in high school.”
“I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything” His eyes pleaded with me to understand.
I didn’t grant him that grace. I jerked my hand from his, and the second I was free, nausea and darkness washed over me. I began to tilt. Derek thrust out his arm to steady me, then pulled back once I was upright. The serenity returned without his touch.
“We can’t have this conversation here, now,” Derek whispered. He drew me from my seat. “I’ll help you back to the room to get your things. I’ll tell Mr. Howard that I found you sick in the hall and you need to leave early. Do you think you can make it home on your own?”
His concern sounded genuine. How could a deceitful liar be so sincere?
My stomach tightened again with the idea that I’d carried on a relationship with a minor. But when I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t force myself to feel guilty or ashamed. Derek was a man. He had pursued me, convinced me that I was his one true love, his soul mate; then he’d broken my heart. As angry as I was with him, I still loved him.
I cut myself off there. I knew, by the look of his pale gray eyes, that he was reading me. He sensed the tenderness, the empathy, and the revulsion as they flowed through me and into him.
“I’ll be alright,” I said steadying myself. “But we will talk about this.” My teeth chattered and I rubbed my upper arms against imagined cold as I staggered toward PR5. Derek followed close behind, his emotional support tickling the edges of my consciousness.
When he opened the door, twenty-seven pairs of eyes looked in our direction. “Miss McAllister is sick, Mr. Howard,” Derek said. “I found her nearly passed out in the hall. I think she needs to go home.” He stood next to my desk waiting for me to say something or make a move to leave. As I shouldered my bag, I felt his push evaporate and the floor tilted. I teetered unbalanced before a room full of seniors. Many gasps and a couple of giggles erupted. I reached for the edge of the desk, but not before Derek grabbed my arm. His projected calmness enveloped me again and I maneuvered toward the exit.
“Mr. Howard, let Derek escort me to the office to sign out.” I took his outstretched hand and felt his other hand against my back. “I’m afraid I’m too dizzy to walk on my own.”
“Of course, Miss McAllister,” Mr. Howard replied. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”
“Yes, I think it may be something I ate at lunch,” I said. “It hit me so fast.”
“Well, I hope you feel better.” He turned back to the class as Derek guided me through the door. Once outside, I released his arm and careened forward. Instead of supporting me again, he projected onto me without touching me and I made it to the front office.
I explained once again about my illness to Mr. DuCharm and asked if Derek could escort me to my car. He took the office pass and followed me to my Honda.
“I am sorry, Sugar,” he apologized again. “I didn’t know how to tell you...” he trailed off.
“Bullshit!” I steadied myself against the car door and turned to him. “All you had to do was say it. Just say, ‘Sugar, I just thought you should know, before you start teaching, that I’m a high school student.’ See, like that.”
Derek glanced over his shoulder. “Stop it,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the security guard standing in the bus loop.
I unlocked my driver’s side door and fell in to start the car, then the air conditioner. Now I was burning up. I didn’t know if my blood pressure was high or if I really was sick.
“Do you want me to call you later?” he whispered as he leaned in to set my bag in the back seat.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, not believing my own voice so filled with hate when my heart was still filled with love. But I couldn’t stop myself. “I mean, you’ve done one freakin’ fantastic job of avoiding me the last two weeks. Why pretend to be concerned now?”
“But we have to talk,” he reminded me. “You said so yourself.”
“I know, but I don’t think I could control myself and not beat the hell out of you.” I slammed my door shut and stared up at him, seething.
“Tara, don’t be this way,” he pleaded. He reached out to touch my arm, but I pulled away. “I know you’re angry. I really want to talk to you about all this, but not now. We can’t now.” His expression was so heartbreaking. I fought between wanting to ease his pain and to make him suffer more. “I understand,” he said, a sad smile playing on his lips. He stepped back away from the car and turned toward the office. Without his presence to buffer me from my feelings, I began to sob uncontrollably.
I didn’t remember driving home or falling asleep on the couch, only that I was awakened by the sound of the phone ringing. Filtered twilight met my gaze as Derek’s face and the events from that afternoon bombarded me. I began to shake as the answering machine’s greeting broke dusk’s silence. I braced myself for Derek’s voice, but was surprised and confused at the message. It wasn’t the one I expected.
“Tara, it’s Dori,” she said. “I need to talk to you. Please pick up.”
Rule of Three, n. – A Wiccan principle which states that
whatever a person sends out into the universe,
whether good or bad, will come back to them threefold.
Chapter 20 – Derek
“Dori, you’ve got to talk to her,” I said following my sister around her classroom. “She’s so pissed at me that I don’t think she’s ever gonna speak to me again.”
“You lied to her about your age, DJ.” Dori straightened the calculators in their drawer before turning back to me. “What’d you expect? Besides, she’s the one’s running around on you. Shouldn’t you still be angry with her about that?”
“I know, we both screwed up,” I muttered, images of Tara and that dude flashing in my brain. “But I love her. She’s my élan. Besides, you had a hand in this, too.”
“Me? What did I do?” Dori’s hands froze over her desk with a stack of papers in them. She stared at me in fake innocence, guilt drifting from her.
“You helped her get the job here,” I said. “Dianne told me about you talking to Bonner.”
“God, no one in this family can keep a secret.” She dropped the papers onto her desk and stared at me. “I got her the job because she is your élan. I didn’t know Bonner was going to put you in her class.”
“You didn’t see that?” I was surprised. Doraleigh’s visions never failed.
“No,” she said. Her forehead wrinkled. “I didn’t see what her assignment here would be. And with eighteen hundred students, I didn’t think you two would run into each other so soon.”
“You could have told me,” I said. “I could have helped you figure this out.” Dori smiled at me, her annoyance and confusion morphing into empathy; but before it could hit me, I put up my block.
“You’re right,” she said. She sat down, leaned back and closed her eyes. When she looked back at me they were almost translucent. “I thought you’d still be angry with me about the whole Tara thing. I keep forgetting that you’re grown. Well, almost.”
“Like you said,” I said, huffing and smiling weakly at her, “she’s the one who’s still seeing that guy in Nashville, friends or not.”
Dori sighed and leaned forward. “DJ, sit down. I’ve got something to tell you and I don’t want you to be too pissed.” The guilt and sadness she projected was suffocating. I sat in a chair beside her desk my stomach clenching in apprehension.
“Just tell me already,” I said. “What else have you seen?”
“Nothing new, “she said, “but I think the visions I had of Tara were—“ she lifted her eyes and swallowed, then continued, “—of the future. I’m not so sure now that she cheated on you.” Her shoulders slumped as her eyes scanned her desk, avoiding my gaze.
I took a deep, steadying breath, debating between reaming her out or hugging her. Her guilt overshadowed the sadness and I kept my peace. I still couldn’t let her off that easy though. “What do you mean, Sis? Your visions aren’t one hundred percent?”
She rolled her eyes, smacking my leg. “There’s a first time for everything,” she said, her eyes soft and bright. “DJ, I really am sorry. I still don’t like you two being together, with her being so much older than you and her lack of heritage, and—“ I held up my hand to stop her. “Anyway, I just want you to know, I’m here for you.”
“I know you are, Sis,” I said, wanting to push some brotherly love to her, but she held up her hand to stop me. Instead, I just grinned. “You’ve got to learn to trust me.” She smiled and nodded, then I asked, “What do we do now?”
“We try to find a way to help her understand your connection,” she said. Her shoulders slouched as she drew her hands to her lap. I never realized how much stress Doraleigh was under until now. The pressure lined her pale face.
“Well, I’ve got work until nine,” I said tugging my keys from my pocket. “Joey’s home with the little ‘uns tonight.”
Dori stood, shoving the papers in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’ll come to Momma’s tomorrow and we’ll see if we can figure this out.”
She steered me to the door and walked with me to the parking lot. It wasn’t until Sunday dinner that I heard she’d gone to see Tara.
*****
“What happened?” I asked when Dori finally got to Momma’s. I snagged her the second she got out of her car and steered her to the shed.
