Page 15 of Bring me Back

He watched me for a little longer, before his eyes flashed to the call sheet, scanning the names. “Delilah Campbell,” he whispered to himself.

I shrugged and kept my silence, this time not because of the game. I knew nothing about Delilah besides her sister, and Mr. Miller didn’t know about that. He was already a teacher at the time of theincident, but I’d know if he knew. I got pretty good at spotting the pity glances people threw my way.

Yeah, no thanks. I’ll keep that one to myself.

Like he was reading my mind, Miller’s eyes scanned me up and down. I froze under his stare, telling myself not to show any reaction. After a second too long, he dipped his chin down and opened the theater’s door for me.

Mrs. Carr was still in class, so we were the only ones in. I wanted to rush backstage and avoid everyone for the rest of the afternoon. My backpack hitched up my shoulder, I hurried my steps as he called after me.

“Would you tell me if someone was bothering you?”

I turned, feeling the blood rushing through my veins. He didn’t know me, or he’d never ask for something like that. I wasn’t the snitching type. My expression betrayed me once more, spilling all my secrets without my consent. His head hung low when he realized my answer. He took a deep breath before facing me again.

“Promise me you will come to me, Hallie.”

A breath got caught in my chest. It was the way he said my name, the velvety quality of his voice. His eyes were fixed on me like nothing else mattered, even as the bell rang out there and the kids’ footsteps filled the halls. Mr. Miller stood there, unwavering, jaw locked in place. My lips parted, I licked them and the lie rolled off my tongue. “I promise.”

“Two milkshakes, fries and onion rings,” I called as I pegged the order. Torres grunted from the kitchen, but I was already gone.

It was Saturday afternoon, and I’d never been so busy. Marian explained it happened every September. Summer was gone; people were spending less of their days on the beach, so they came around for food instead. I couldn’t understand why they stopped going to the beach; it was still hot. It was so hot that week, I’d started wearing shorts instead of jeans, with my regular combo of a tee and Chucks. I wiped the sweat off my brow; I wasn’t going to the beach anytime soon, but Bluehaven was a coastal town. There was little to do if not soak up the sun with toes dipped in sand.

Dad invited me fishing that morning, and it was hard to refuse. It was a while since the last time he tried, and it shocked me a little. So I told him half-lies: I needed to organize the shed he converted in a studio for me. I guaranteed it was something I needed to tend, even though I was actually more than happy to stay behind. My old Singer sewing machine was already propped in the right-hand corner and I couldn’t wait to work on the soothing pedals again.

So it wasn’t exactly a lie. I was busy. I also had to think of a way to turn the costumes into reality. Mrs. Carr approved all my drawings, but let me know our budget was so small, it was barely there, and I was sharing it with Mr. Miller for whatever he needed for the set.

Mrs. Carr’s ideas for the set were Broadway worthy, but it was a play with fairies and magical creatures. The costumes needed money too. So I had to sit with Mr. Miller to see how much of the budget I could spend. Besides my promise the other day, I hadn’t said anything to him in the weeks we worked together. I was going to break the spell, and I felt a little sentimental that our game was finally going to be over.

“How’s school going?” Marian asked with her hip to the side of the counter, rooting around her bag for a cigarette.

I smiled. “I’m not in school anymore.”

“Beg to differ, kid. You’re there every day.”

I shook my head. “It’s going fine. Rehearsals are about to start.”

“Painful. Do you have to stay there? Can’t you do a few things from home?”

I shrugged noncommittally. Sure I could, but I wouldn’t.

She arched an eyebrow at the lack of answer, and then sent me to table ten, as she placed a cigarette in her mouth and headed out. Looking down as I moved to the table, my pad and pen in hands, I called, “Hey, there. How can I help you?” quickly as I arrived.

When the customer didn’t reply straight away, I looked up to find a smirk and brown eyes that waited for me.

“This doesn’t count!” I gasped, placing a hand on my mouth like I could take the words back.

It didn’t. I knew I was going to go to him for budget talk, but he wasn’t allowed to surprise me at work. Miller laughed. His head tipped back, showing me the beautiful column of his throat as he acted like this was a victory.

“What are you laughing at, Miller?” Marian asked from outside, as she tapped on the glass beside Mr. Miller’s booth. “Kid isn’t that funny!”

I raised my eyebrows to Marian in protest, but changed my gaze when he said, “Do you think I’m cheating?”

I nodded.

His eyes shone in mischief, lips curved. I felt my cheeks warming as I looked down at my pad and asked. “What can I get you?”

“Coffee,” and a second later, “maybe pancakes too.”

I scribbled the order down. “I was about to ruin it, anyway,” I confessed, feeling a little shy. “We need to talk about the budget.”

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