Page 25 of Single Teddy
It was red.
“What happened there? Did…did Bear do that?”
Wesley hid his hands under the desk and pressed his lips together.
“He didn’t mean to. It’s okay.”
I brought my hand up to my mouth and bit my fist.
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled and offered him my hand. “Can…can I see?”
“It’s really not that bad. It looks worse than it feels, I swear,” he said, but I didn’t back down.
He placed his hand between my fingers. The hairs on the back of my neck stood and a sharp chill ran down my spine, making every muscle in my body tense.
What the hell was that?
I shook my head against whatever effect his sensation had on me and inspected the bruising closer.
“Hedid that?” I asked in utter disbelief.
He was only seven for crying out loud. How on earth had he done that?
“He’s still young. He’s still learning his body and how to use it.”
“Yeah, but still,” I said, turning it to look at the other side, and he hissed. “You lied. It does hurt.”
Wesley pulled his hand back and shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But it does,” I said and attempted to take his hand back for no reason other than that it had felt good to touch him.
“Honestly, I’m more interested in finding out how you two are adjusting. Bear went through terrible trauma. I just want to make sure he’s taking the time to process it and express his grief.”
“Right.” I sat back and pursed my lips. “Honestly, he’s okay. I think. I mean, he doesn’t talk much, but he’s always been a bit quiet.”
“Yes, of course,” Wesley said and put his elbows on his desk, supporting his head with both hands. “That’s perfectly normal. We don’t want to change who he is. How is he when you do his homework together? Is he engaged? Does he get easily distracted?”
“Homework?”
Seven-year-olds had homework?
Crap. How the hell did I not know that?
“Yeah,” he replied, and his lips quirked into an empathetic smile. “You didn’t know, did you?”
I shook my head.
“I thought as much. He hasn’t handed in any homework all week. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.”
Great. Poor kid hadn’t been with me for more than a few weeks, and I was already fucking it all up.
“I’m sorry. I…I didn’t think to check. I feel so stupid.” I buried my face in my hands and tried to breathe through this asphyxiating embarrassment wrapping around me.
“Hey!” He raised his voice and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “No name-calling. I have to remind the kids all the time, don’t make me have to remind you too.”
I looked up and raised an eyebrow. Why was he being so nice to me? I didn’t deserve it. And yet, when I gazed into his eyes, I could almost start believing that I did. Which I guess was a good attribute for a teacher, right?
