Page 3 of Cooper

“We’re all nice, actually. Though, the patrons here, well, I can’t speak for most of them. Oh, and Liz can kick anyone’s ass if none of the bouncers are around.” I explain, and then I go for cute, not sure why. “You couldn’t have picked a better bar to work at. Unless you’ve got an aversion to green beer.”

Another tight smile, and then she walks away, like she’s been dismissed.

“Nice talking to ya.” I murmur as she walks away, and I shake my head. “Weirdo.” I chuckle, but I can’t help the smile. I’ve never met a girl that didn’t want to talk my ear off. Especially once they find out that I’m in Wade’s band. That’s the ticket right there.

I catch her eying me here and there as the night continues. But once I look her way, it’s like elementary school again, and she averts her gaze. The shyness is intriguing, I’ll admit. Once Wade has his pick of the litter for the night, he does his usual shpeel, bringing her up on stage to sing and/or dance with him. He sure knows how to pack on the charm, that boy. And as the night winds down, we help with a little bit of clean up, and I head home, in my beat up old pickup truck. She’s a beauty though. Never gives me a lick of trouble, so I’m keeping her until she falls apart. It’s also handy that my drum kit fits perfectly back in the flatbed.

But as I sit in the back of my beater, I find myself watching, waiting, for Stella to leave. Again, not sure why. I have to talk myself out of following her home. Something inside me tells me that with a personality like that, around here, she’ll need an escort.

…and in the coming days I’ll find out why.

“No, no, little man.” I chide gently, tousling the third grader’s hair, as he beats the drum. “It’s on the one, not the two. Here, try that again.”

The class is working on a Christmas song, for the concert. We’re performing a rock tune that I made up myself, with the help of the class. It’s a rocking diddy that’ll be sure to knock the socks of parents, but getting the class to play in time together is like pulling teeth.

“Err…Mr. Walters?” Mrs. Lind, the school principal, calls to me.

“Yes, ma’am?”

She’s got the cutest little girl standing next to her. I’ve never seen her before, so she must be new.

“This is Nicole. She’s just starting here new this morning.” Mrs. Lind says by way of introduction. “Her mama just dropped her off now. Can you find her a place, please?”

“I sure can.” I hold out my hand, so little Nicole can come my way. She’s as cute as a button, with little blonde curls, pink cherub lips, and big blue eyes. The cutest little eight-year-old I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot, since I’ve been teaching at this school for more than five years. “Welcome, Nicole. How are y’all doing today?”

She smiles shyly, wagging her head, curls bouncing all over. “Are you excited to come to this school?”

“Uh huh.”

“Now, what instrument do you like to play, darlin’? You can choose any one that you like.”

“I like the cymbals.”

“Well, that’s perfect, doll. Nobody’s playing the cymbals. You go on and take those from over in the corner there, and I’ll get you settled, okay? I’m Mister Walters. If you can’t remember that, you can call me Coop, which is short for Cooper. That’s what everyone calls me, just don’t tell Mrs. Lind that, okay?”

She smiles and then runs over to the cymbals, just as I hear a tap on the doorjamb. I look up and am shocked to see a familiar and unexpected face appear. I crane my neck as I see Stella’s face. “Hi there.” I chuckle, and I’m sure that my expression tells the tale.

“Um, hi. My…err…daughter, Bean…err…Nicole.” She breathes a small laugh. “Sorry, Bean is what I call her.” Her face turns beet red. “I forgot to give her her lunch.”

I walk over to her and take the small cooler bag from her hand. “This is your daughter?” I ask, pointing at Nicole, who is meticulously checking out the cymbals in various sizes, along the side of the wall, completely oblivious to me and her mama talking.

“Yes.” Stella nods. “I’ve got to go. I’m late for an appointment.” She explains, as nervous as ever. Just as she says this, a throng of noisy fifth graders come shooting down the hallway, and I have half a mind to shout at them, but Stella is scurrying away from me so fast.

“Wait, Stella!” I call, but she doesn’t answer.

This time, I go after her. I try calling her again, but she doesn’t answer. I take off into a clip, and gently grab her arm, as the fifth graders veer off into the gym, and quiet down. “Stella, wait.”

The look on her face is sobering. I don’t know what to make of it. I search her eyes, wondering why she’s running from me, now for the second time. It’s not that she’s bashful for my benefit, like she’s got a crush, I’m certain of that. No, this is something else. Then a lightbulb goes off, but I don’t share my hunch with her. Somehow, she can read my mind, and it’s unsettling.

As I remove my hand from her arm, she looks at me, with this expression that I’ve never seen before on anyone, ever. I speak first. “What’s going on, Stella?” I ask, and that strange look reappears on her face, like I’ve just cursed at her.

“Stella…” I stammer. “Why don’t you stop when I call you?”

She swallows. Her voice quivers as she speaks.

…“Because that’s not my real name.”

Chapter 2

---