Page 158 of Two-Step
Except I’m not happy. I miss her like mad.
I dream about being with her, making love to her, lying with her in my arms. I wake up to an empty bed, and I want to wail.
I thought that when school started, my old routine and the never-ending grading would be enough to take the sting out of missing her. Out of loving her. But every day hurts as much as the day I walked away from her.
And even my old school routine has changed. Paula tried, but I don’t have the period before lunch off anymore to go see Mom. I have first hour off, which is from 7:15 a.m. to 8:05. Mom isn’t even up and dressed at that time.
So on the days I visit, I join her for dinner instead. It sucks because she’s better earlier in the day.
I’ve been working in my classroom in the hours between the end of the school day and heading to Camelia Court, but after the last bus pulls away, I walk the drab halls back to my room and stop in the doorway.
It’s a grim sight. Two of the rectangular foam ceiling tiles are missing. The fluorescent light above my desk is flickering in adim-bright-dim-dimpattern that’s gnawed at my sanity all day. And today, for whatever reason, the room smells like seaweed.
I pack my bag and head over toNonc’s. At least there, I can sit on his porch swing and grade in relative peace.
But as soon as I open his screen door to say a quick hello, he opens the main door and crowds the entrance.
“You’re an idiot.”
I rear back. So much for relative peace.
“‘Excuse me?”
“No.” He scowls down at me. “Iwill notexcuse you. There’s no excuse other than your own stubborn stupidity.”
Oh. Great. This again.
Nonchas been busting my balls ever since I made the mistake of telling him how things ended between Iris and me. At first he thought she’d broken it off, and he was all quiet comfort and support.
I should’ve just let him keep his misconceptions.
Because as soon as I told him that it was me who turned down her invitation to go with her, refused her offer to stay, and then broke things off so she’d get on with her life, he let me know he disagreed with those choices a hundred percent.
But his criticisms had eased up lately. Just a little.
“I thought we’d moved past this.”
He grunts. “That was before Iris called me.”
My breath halts. Iris called him? Why would she callhim?Is she okay?
“What’s wrong?” The instinct to fight whatever threatens her has my teeth clenching. “Is she alright?”
“She’s alright, no thanks to you.”
I shut my eyes, gratitude washing over me.
My eyes fly open. “Why was she calling?”
Nonccrosses his arms over his chest and glares down at me. He’s framed in the doorway, and I’m reminded of just how big he is.
“She wanted to know howyouwere. But she can’t ask you because you won’t answer your damn phone.”
I wince. Yeah, this part I’ve kept from him.
“Idiot.”
“She hasn’t tried calling me in weeks.”
