Indisputable (15 page)

My arms are braced on either side of the doorframe as
I watch her resume packing her things.  I wish I knew the right words to
say to get her to stay, but she’s made up her mind.  This is all my
fault.  “But where will you go?”

“I’ll call Emerson.  And if I can’t stay there,
I’ll call my friend from work.”

“And if that doesn’t work out either?” I prod.

She looks up at me again, locking her eyes with
mine.  “Then I’ll go back to my apartment.” 

“But what about Wyatt?  I don’t think you’ve let
enough time pass.”

“What about him?  He doesn’t have a key. 
The most he can do is sit around and mess with my car.  I’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t sound so sure earlier.  What
changed?”  My fingers grip the doorframe painfully.  I’m desperate
for her to stay.  Please, please stay. 

“We did, Mr. Ryan.  We changed.”  She sounds
so defeated.  Abruptly, she picks up her bag and walks towards me,
stopping before where I’m blocking the door.  “Please move.”

Without saying a word, I turn to my side, giving her
space to pass through.  And she does.  Tatum walks straight out and
into the garage, starts her car, and drives away.

It doesn’t hit me until after she leaves that Tatum
probably had too many drinks to drive.  I don’t even have her number to
make sure she made it home okay.  Worrying about her safety and kicking
myself for letting her leave, I wait not even two minutes before I leave my
house to follow her home. 

The whole drive over, I search every ditch and every
side road for signs of an accident.  My head is filled with ‘what if’s’ as
I contemplate all the things wrong with this scenario.

What if she gets pulled over?

What if she falls asleep driving?

What if she hits somebody?

What if Wyatt is waiting for her when she gets home?

The last one makes me force the gas pedal down
harder.  Though, no matter how fast I drive, it won’t change what happened
today.  I’m nothing but a fuckup.  I can’t even help a teenaged girl
who asked for nothing but a place to stay.  I failed Harper, and now I’ve
made one hell of a mess out of Tatum’s situation.  It’s best to leave the
heroism to someone who’s actually capable.  I’ll drive over and make sure
she’s home safe, then I’ll go back to being her calculus teacher.  She
won’t even know I stopped by. 

When I pull up to her apartment building, I
curse.  Shit, I don’t actually know which unit is hers.  Her Honda is
easy to spot, so at least I know she’s here, but that doesn’t really tell me if
she’s safe.  What if Wyatt forced her into her apartment, and he’s holding
her there?  My stomach churns.  I should never have let her leave,
and now I don’t even know if she’s alright. 

I park next to her car and climb out.  The doors
are locked, and nothing seems amiss, although I don’t really know what I should
be looking for.  There are several other cars in the lot, but none I
remember seeing at the mechanics shop or the school the other day.  I hope
that means he’s not here. 

But my gut is churning and for some reason I feel
uneasy.  Maybe I can just wait around for a little while until I’m more at
ease.  If I see him coming out of the building, I’ll beat the shit out of
him until he tells me which apartment is hers.  The thought of burying my
fists in his cocky face makes me feel slightly better so I flick off my
headlights and turn on the radio to keep me awake while I stand watch.

The beer and the late hour are making it hard to stay
awake so I blast the air conditioning, hoping the cool air will send life back
into my limbs.  I’ve been sitting for over an hour now, and no sign of,
well…anybody.  I’ll give it fifteen more minutes before I drive back
home.  With the minimal activity around the building, I’m feeling pretty
confident Tatum is home safe and alone.

I really screwed up tonight.  Not once during my
schooling or student teaching did it cross my mind that I would be in a
situation like this.  I’ve endured through the flirtatious smiles and
blushing, giggling girls with no effect on me whatsoever, but Tatum isn’t like
those girls.  Tatum is strong, driven, and real.  And damn if she
doesn’t get right under my skin.  I’m starting to like her there. 

That kiss, the one where I pinned her outside the
bathroom?  I couldn’t fucking help myself.  And no matter how hard I
try to talk sense into my head, it won’t change the fact that I wanted
it.  Wanted to kiss her again.  I wanted her.  I still fucking
do.  And she retaliated.  Listening to her beg me to kiss her was my
undoing.  Those sweet lips dripping with the innocence of her need. 
Is it really so wrong?  We met before I was her teacher.  We kissed
before she was my student.  Her circumstances make her different than any
other high school girl out there.  She isn’t living life like a teenaged
girl, she’s living her life like a twenty something adult who’s trying to
survive.  Hell, I went through it.  Harper and I went through it
together…

The sound of a low rumbling muffler stops that train
wreck of emotions before it gets started.  I need to focus. 

A burgundy Chevy truck pulls up beneath the streetlamp
and parks, but nobody gets out.  Ducking lower into my seat, I watch the
unmistakable blue hue of a cell phone illuminating the dark cab and the single
occupant within.  I don’t have to see who’s inside to know it’s him. 

As I watch, the light travels up towards the window
and back down several times.  He must be calling her, and she’s not
picking up.  Four, five, six times the light tracks toward his ear and
back down.  Despite the air conditioning still blowing on high, my skin
prickles and heats with the anger flushing my system.

I reach back and flip the switch off for the dome
light and crack the door open.  As carefully as I can, I slip out into the
dark night and gently rest the door closed without making a sound.  This
guy is jacked up on something, I guarantee it.  Creeping alongside my car,
mindful of the gravel crunching beneath my boots, I click open the trunk. 
My fingers fumble along before grasping the cool smooth metal of the tire
iron.  One glance back tells me he hasn’t moved, and the prick is still
calling her. 

Images of Tatum, scared and alone in her apartment
flash rapidly through my mind.  I need to get over there. 

Taking the long way, I creep behind the row of cars
and circle the small parking lot.  I’m crouched behind an SUV one car
away, when I hear, rather than see, his door fly open. 

“Fucking bitch,” I hear him mutter as he steps out of
the cab.  He leans back in over the seat to grab something, and I don’t
hesitate to rush him.  For all I know he’s grabbing a gun or something to
coerce her to let him in. 

My approach startles him.  He spins around
looking disoriented.  His eyes sweeping from side to side, a telltale
glaze in his stare.  The tire iron whooshes through the air as I slap it
against his throat.  A chill ripples across my skin as his eyes gloss over
with recognition and resentment. 

“You need to leave,” I spit out between my gritted
teeth.  “I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”

He grins a lopsided smirk, and I fight the urge to
drive my fist into his mouth.  “Ain’t scared of you.  Besides, she
wants me here.”

“I doubt it.”

“Swear to God.  She called me to come
over.”  Amusement dances behind his icy blue eyes.  Something about
this guy is off, and I don’t want him within a mile of Tatum. 

“You’re lying.”  I press the metal wand tighter
against his throat.  His eyes round noticeably as he tries to hide the
erupting panic. 

It wasn’t enough because he taunts further. 
“M’not.  Swear.  Don’t be jealous because she wants what only I can
give her.”  I don’t know what this guy is on, but he isn’t slurring like a
drunk.  His speech is more lazy and drawn out.  I can feel my control
slipping with every word out of his fucking mouth.

“Stay away from her.  She doesn’t want anything
to do with you.”

“You’re wrong, buddy.  She wants me, even when
she says she doesn’t.”  His eyes roll back slightly, and he lets out a
groan.  When his meets my stare again, his mouth lifts in a smirk. 
“I’ll never forget how drenched her pussy was when I fingered her in the
school.  She really liked that, man.  She didn’t even get that wet
when I fucked her the day before.  She sucks cock like a pro and has the
sweetest tasting cunt—“

Blood red tinges the corners of my vision, and as the
tire iron digs deeply into his throat, my hands shake.  

“What’s the matter, buddy?  Can’t breathe? 
Should I choke you out like you did to Tatum?  Cut off your air until your
face turns fucking purple, and the light leaves your eyes?”  My hands
press harder.  “What’s that?  I can’t hear you.  You’re never
going to see her again?  Never going to bother her or call her? 
Don’t even fucking look at her if she drives by you.  Say yes, you son-of-a-bitch,
or I’ll choke you off right here.”  I twist my wrist and a vein rolls in
my forearm.  A sick sense of satisfaction rises in my chest as his hands
grapple with the metal against his throat. 

With eyes wide on mine, he gives his head a miniscule
nod.  I shove the bar one last time before releasing him, where he
collapses in a choking, coughing heap at my boots. 

I raise the bar above my head and kick him over with
my foot.  “Which apartment is hers?”

He just shakes his head and keeps coughing, his body
rolled into a tight ball on the cold, black pavement. 

I drive my boot into his chest.  “Which
apartment?”

He coughs again before wheezing, “306…306.”

“If I ever see you here again, you’re dead.  Get
the fuck out of here.” 

He scrambles into his truck and throws it into drive
before spinning away from me.  I wait until his taillights disappear
around a bend in the road before barreling up the stairs to the complex. 
She’s not staying here after that.  I need to reassure myself that she’s
okay, and then she’s coming home with me.

Tatum

I pull a pillow over my head as Wyatt calls
again.  Over and over for the past half an hour.  He needs to take a
hint.  I’d turn the thing off, but I don’t want him to know I’m by my
phone.  If I just don’t answer, maybe he will think I’m asleep and leave me
alone.  Somehow I doubt it, so I’ve kept all the lights off in my
apartment, and I’m laying quietly in bed with nothing but my own
thoughts. 

This week has been a mess, but tonight is a new
low.  I don’t know what is wrong with me, coming on to Jacoby the way I
did.  Yeah, he’s ridiculously hot if I’m being honest, and he’s been
willingly taking care of me when nobody ever has before.  And I am an
adult, clearly capable of making my own decisions. 

But he’s still my teacher. 

Even if he were interested in me—which he’s clearly
not as so defined by his actions tonight—I’m certain he could lose his job over
dating a student, regardless of my age.  All signs point to how bad of an
idea this all is.  Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop my mind from wanting
him. 

But why? 

Why do I want this guy who didn’t even like me until
he rescued me from being assaulted?  We didn’t have some instant
spark-like connection, no static, no electricity that are always described in
the romance books I’m obsessed with.  We hated each other for a few days
after we met.  My life is no fucking fairytale.  I must have fallen
for him because of his heroism or some nonsensical subconscious hormonal
reaction I can’t explain.

Wait—what?

Knocking the pillow from my face, I come up for air. 
That must be it; I was restricting oxygen to my brain for a few minutes. 
After a few deep breaths though, nothing miraculous has changed.  Now I
feel ridiculous.  I have not fallen for Jacoby.  But madly crushing
on his deep chocolate brown eyes, warms strong arms, soft tender lips and sexy
smile?  Yup.  Most definitely.  I can’t deny that.

My phone rings again and again, so without accidently
pushing the ignore button, I silence the ringer.  I shouldn’t have left
Mr. Ryan’s house.  I should have locked myself in the bedroom and sorted
through my feelings, much like I’m doing right now.  At least then I’d
have been safe at his place.  Not here, paranoid and hiding under my
blanket like a freaking child where I can guarantee Wyatt is going to be pounding
on my door in twenty minutes.

I don’t know what to do now.  I can’t go crawling
back to Jacoby and ask to stay with him again, because even though I left out
of hurt, it wasn’t the wrong thing to do.  I meant what I said about not
staying there forever.  He gave me a couple days to sleep soundly, and now
I need to move on and get back to my life.  Wyatt will give up
eventually.  And if I’m careful, he won’t be able to get to me
again. 

I put my earphones in and turn my iPod to shuffle,
content with knowing this is for the best.  That doesn’t mean, as I lie
back on my pillow and close my eyes, it isn’t Jacoby’s face I see, but at least
I know we never could have made it work.  Not for several more months when
I would graduate, if ever. 

My eyelids fall heavy, and I drift off to the sound of
Joshua Radin serenading me in my ears…

Thump, thump, thump!

The rapid pounding startles me from my unremarkable
dream, and I bolt straight up in my bed where I had fallen asleep still wearing
my clothes.

Thump, thump, thump!

Do I pretend I’m asleep, or do I tell him to fuck
off?  Maybe I should call the cops. 

Finding my phone off the floor, where I must have
knocked it off the bed, I pad nervously to the door.  Sliding my feet the
last few inches, I brace myself on the door frame and stand on tip toe to peer
into the peephole.  I see nothing except the empty hall.  He’s toying
with me.  Lowering myself to flat feet once more, I remain motionless,
afraid he’s listening out of sight.  But another thump, thump, thump causes
me to gasp.

“Tatum?  Tatum, open up.  It’s me.” 

Jacoby?  What the hell is he doing here? 
Fighting my initial reaction to fling the door open, I look into the peep hole
again.  Sure enough, there he is.  Brown hair tousled, his dark eyes
rimmed with tired circles, his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” 

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it
wasn’t that.

“I’m fine,” I call back, tamping down the tiny thrill
that flares in my belly.  A stupid, gut clenching reaction because someone
actually cares. 

“I don’t believe you.  Let me see you.”

“I don’t want to see you.”  That’s the
truth.  I’m still hurt and embarrassed from earlier.  I’ll see him
Monday and even that will be far too soon.

“Tatum, I’m sorry.”  Something in the way his voice
cracks around my name has me peering into the little circular window once
more.  His hands are framed on either side of the door.  He looks
sad, stricken, like he’s warring with something inside of himself.  I
watch enraptured as he scrubs a hand across his eyes before he droops his
head.  “I need to make sure you’re okay, and then I’ll go.” 

My fingers twitch with the ache to turn the lock and
let him in.  Instead, I turn around and slide my back down the door until
I’m seated on the floor.  No good can come from letting him in at three
a.m.  Especially after the weekend we’ve had.  “I’m not letting you
in.”

His sigh echoes through the door.  “Fine. 
Then promise me you won’t leave.”

“Jacoby, I can’t.”

“I saw him in the parking lot.  Wyatt…He was
here, and I just need to know you’re safe.”

The mention of Wyatt kicks my heart rate up a
notch.  “I can’t have you keeping tabs on me.  We’ll both go crazy.”

“Then just promise me, and I’ll go.  Promise me
you won’t leave alone or without telling a friend where you’re going.  For
a few days.  Just until things die down.”

Closing my eyes, I try to fight off the tightness
squeezing my chest at his concern.  Letting out a shaky breath, I tell
him, “I promise.” 

A silence settles over us and a few minutes later I hear
his footsteps retreat.  When I finally pull myself up, I notice a small
piece of paper behind where I had been sitting. 

812-555-9633  Let me be that friend

I drive my palm into my eyes to relieve the sudden
stinging sensation.  I don’t know why I have such ridiculous reactions to
his kindness.  I don’t need to have him worrying about me—nobody ever has
before—and I’ve made it out just fine.  The paper crumbles in my sudden
fist as I slowly drag myself to bed.  Before crawling in to sleep, I make
sure to leave the kitchen light on.  Just in case someone decides to
visit.

The clock beside my bed reads 12:37 when I wake the
next morning, and after warring with myself for twenty minutes I decide to send
Jacoby a text.  After last night, I’m sure he’s either camped out in my
parking lot, or at his house worried sick that he hasn’t heard from me. 

Or maybe not. 

I think it’s a bit of wish-fulfillment thinking that
this guy could care enough to want to hear from me.  I can’t remember a
single time in my life where someone has worried about me.  Letting myself
believe that he cares does weird things to my heart.  Weird, foreign
things that feel kind of nice.  That rapid heart rate and fluttering in my
stomach is something I wouldn’t mind getting used to.

God, when did I turn into such a sap?

just woke up.  wont leave the house
today, fyi.

I leave my phone by my bed while I use the bathroom,
and his response is waiting for me when I’m finished.  That was quick.

Thanks for letting me know.  I was
wondering how late you’d sleep. 
He was thinking about
me?  A small smile tugs at my lips while I finish reading.
  Are
you feeling okay?  I still want to talk about what happened yesterday.

Leave it up to the teacher to use proper
capitalization and punctuation while texting.  I chew on my lip while I
mull over my response.  I don’t want to see him yet, and I definitely
don’t want to argue with him again.  There isn’t much more to be
said.  I like him.  He might like me.  But he doesn’t want to be
with me, and I sort of, maybe want to be with him?  I’m confused. 
Blowing out a deep breath, I type back:

Late nite. Im tired.  Thx for asking,
Professor. Nothin to talk about.  See u tomorrow.

My phone buzzes again, but I ignore the text. 
Instead, I scroll through my log to call Kelsey. 

“Hey, how are ya?” She answers cheerily, and I
instantly feel better.  Kelsey’s been a constant solid spot in my life
since I started working with her, and some of the tension from the past week
begins to leak away.

“I’m alright.  Pretty tired.  I didn’t sleep
too good last night.”

“I know how that goes.  Still shaken up over Mrs.
Marsden?” 

“Not really.  I’m feeling okay with her
passing.  It was difficult in the moment, but now I’m okay.”  Kelsey
is an observant person, but even if she weren’t, it’s not hard to miss the way
my voice shakes and cracks on the last word.

“Tatum…What’s wrong, sweetie?  You were white as
a sheet yesterday.  Now you’re telling me you’re not sleeping well. 
Something’s up with you.  You can trust me.” 

“Some, something happened.  And I’m not really
sure I want to talk about it.”  I begin tearing into my cuticles with my
teeth and lower myself to the floor.  Kelsey doesn’t immediately respond,
and I know that’s her way of telling me to continue.  I lean back against
my bed.  “Wyatt attacked me.”

“He what!?” she all but shouts into the phone. 
“Mother fuckin’ son-of-a-bitch.  What happened?”

I release a shaky breath and close my eyes. 
“It’s a long story.  Short version is he ended up giving me a ride to the
school after hours, and he thought we were the only ones there…” 

I give her a quick account of what happened in the
stairwell, all while trying to keep the tears at bay.  My fists clench
around the edge of my brown and turquoise bedspread, which is draped beside me
on the floor.

“Oh wow.  Tatum, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay—ˮ

“No, it’s not fuckin’ okay!  Don’t even start
with that ‘this is my life, I’m used to it’ crap.  You don’t deserve that
from anybody.”

“Okay…”

“I know you’re just saying that to placate me, but
I’ll let it go for now.  I’m serious, though.  You don’t deserve
that.  So who was it that stopped him?”

“Remember that teacher I told you about?  The one
I was punished to be his T.A. for two weeks?”  I let the rest trail
off.  One. Two. Thre—

“Holy shit, no way.  Tight Ass Math Teacher was
there to rescue you?”

 “Tight Ass Math Teacher?” I question through a
giggle.

“I mean that literally and figuratively.”

“You’re nuts.  Yes, him.  Anyway, that’s not
all.”

“Will you stop leaving all these cliffhangers and just
spill it already?”

“Fine, fine.  He pulled Wyatt off of me, and I
was a total mess—“

Kelsey cut me off again.  “Which you have every
right—“

“Anyway!  I was afraid to go home, so I spent the
weekend at his house.  And, another long story I’m going to shorten for
you, we went out to meet his friend at a bar, and he ended up kissing me.”

“Are you serious?” she belts out in excitement. 
Leave it to Kelsey to be happy I kissed my teacher.  “What else happened?”

“Nothing, you perv.  It was a mistake. 
Except now I think I have real feelings for him, but he’s made it clear he
doesn’t want me.  So here I am, falling for my math teacher, and he’s
basically said no way, not now, not ever.” 

“Wait, you’re in love with him?  Tatum, that’s
like, really bad.”

“No! No, I’m not,” I blow out a deep breath. 
“I’m not in love with him.  I’m just, I don’t know, liking him more than
I’ve ever liked anyone else?” I finish in a rush, the end of my words lilting
at the end to form a question I know Kelsey can’t answer.  “I think the
whole him rescuing me and being so sweet to me wreaked havoc on my
hormones.  I’m in trouble, Kels.  I don’t know what to do.”  I
hastily wipe away the tear trailing from the corner of my eye.  “I can’t
be with him, and it sort of hurts.”

This is all new territory for me.  Besides my
hookups, I’ve never dated anyone, nor have I ever wanted to.  And now that
I find myself wanting to, the guy doesn’t want me.  How messed up is
that?  I’ve spent years building walls, locking my heart in a cage, and
setting parameters for myself, and in the course of one weekend he’s blasted
through and shattered most everything.  He’s proven himself loyal and
trustworthy, caring and kind, supportive and protective.  He’s been funny,
sweet, and genuine.  I’m amazed at how one weekend has been enough for me
to want to open up to someone.  But it’s like a knife to my chest that he
doesn’t want me like that.  Which is probably a sign that I should keep my
walls in place and move on.  He has the power to hurt me already, I can’t
imagine the pain he could wield in a month or two.