Page 26 of Capacity
His dick inside of me.
“Thanks for the breakfast, Principal Cunningham,” Rosie said, poking her head in the door. “Oh, good morning, Ms. Foster. You look lovely today. I like those yellow scrubs.”
“Thanks, Rosie,” I smiled and tugged on the long sleeves of the white undershirt hiding my scars. Each day that passed took me farther from the hopeless feeling eating away at me when I decided to slice my wrists but in its place grew shame and embarrassment. I even hated for Coco and my mother to see my scars and they were with me in the hospital.
When Rosie left Knight’s office, he gave my thigh a quick squeeze. “You do look beautiful in yellow.”
“Thank you.” Butterflies beat their wings against my stomach no matter how much food I shoved down there. “So, about dinner tonight…staying in sounds good. I don’t usually like to go out.”
Knight regarded me quietly then tipped my chin up. “We’re going to have to do something about that. Staying in the house isn’t doing you any favors.”
“Ugh, you sound like Coco.”
“Sounds like Coco is a very smart lady.”
I rolled my eyes at him and we laughed then finished eating our breakfast and talking over coffee. Conversations flowed so easily with him. It was amazing. Before I knew it, an hour had flown by and we were still laughing on the loveseat in his office.
I knew I had to get to work and so did he but it felt good to relax and have fun. It felt good to let my hair down for a moment and not always feel the heartache buried in my soul. For once it quieted enough to allow me to have a good time.
Before lunchtime, a student found his way into my office and produced a hall pass before sitting across from my desk. Zachary Morrow showed up like clockwork every day during homeroom for the past two weeks. He always complained of a headache or allergies and I’d let him hang out until he left for the day. He was a senior nd didn’t spend much time in school anyway.
I knew he wasn’t a troublemaker but something was making him avoid class like the plague. When I pulled up his file to call his parents, I saw the number listed was for the Michael Richmond Group Home for Adolescents. I didn’t bother calling them because I already knew they didn’t care enough to figure out why Zachary kept missing class to sit in the nurse’s office.
“Hi, Ms. Foster.”
“Hey, Zach. What’s going on today?” I leaned forward on my elbows and looked him over. Nothing seemed to be wrong with him. Anyone looking at him would have assumed the same thing. I knew something was bothering him though.
“My head hurts really bad and it feels like my heart is beating too fast.” He rubbed his chest for emphasis. He was so shy he barely met my gaze. His eyes bounced all over the office.
“If you want, I can give you an aspirin and a bottle of water.”
“I guess,” he shrugged.
“Zach, has anyone ever talked to you about having anxiety?” I quizzed, moving around the room to the medicine cabinet. Inside were jumbo-sized bottles of Tylenol, aspirin, and ibuprofen. I also stored feminine hygiene products and antiseptic cream in the tall metal cabinet.
I handed Zach a small cup with a pill inside along with a bottle of water then I sat on the edge of my desk and watched him take it.
“Nah, nobody has ever talked to me about anxiety. Why? You think that’s what’s wrong with me?” His eyes were such a rich and dark brown, they almost looked pitch black but when the sun hit them I saw molten pools of honey.
“Nothing is wrong with you but I do think there’s a reason you don’t want to be in class.”
“I’m not trying to skip class. That’s what Mrs. Rogers thinks too.”
“Well, it kinda looks like it even though I can tell something else is going on.” I pushed out a breath and placed my hand on his shoulder. I felt him tense under my touch. “If you ever want to talk to me about anything here’s my cell number. Text me. Anytime. I know how it is to feel alone or like you don’t have anyone to talk to.” I wrote my number down on the back of my business card and slipped it in the pocket of his hoodie.
“Youknow how that feels?” He almost laughed the words out.
“I do,” I nodded, clasping my hands in my lap.
“I bet you have your own place and your own bedroom, your own bed, and bathroom…right?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t think you know how I feel.”
“Zach, pain is universal. You don’t have a monopoly on it. I might not know your brand of pain and struggle exactly but trust and believe I’ve dealt with so much of it in my life that I recognize it no matter what shape it takes on.” I straightened the hem of my shirt and said, “Now, like I said if you need to talk about anything, text me. I care.” I touched his hand and stood to my feet. “You can hang out in here while I go to lunch and I’ll write you a pass back to class. Okay?”
Zach half-nodded at me and I left, closing the door behind myself.
