Page 22 of Disciplinary Action
It was quiet in the garage, but it wasn’t very hidden. He was afraid to sleep too close to any cars and didn’t want to take his chances with the hallways or stairwells, figuring those had to be on some security guard’s path. He’d almost given up when he saw it, a small alcove with a chain link gate and a sign warning to keep out, saying it was for building personnel only. It was locked, but there was just enough space for him to climb up and over, tossing his book bag in ahead of him.
A huge metal box sat in the alcove behind yet another fence, but there was a small space behind the concrete wall and the fence where Cal could open his sleeping bag and use his backpack for a pillow. It wasn’t perfect. But at least it felt safe. He felt safe. Somewhere, just a few hundred feet away, was Gideon. If things got really bad, he could just go there. But only if things got bad. Which they wouldn’t. He would be okay there, even if the machines’ whirring sound made him a little dizzy and each time somebody parked, their alarm chirped. It was still better than being in an alley or behind a dumpster. Anything was better than that.
Gideon glanced at the clock on his desk, tapping his fingers impatiently. Callum should have been there by now. He’d made it known to the office and the boy’s teachers that Cal had lunchtime detention until the end of the year and would likely miss his free period as well. Nobody had appeared to care all that much since the board had clearly made their feelings known to anybody at their disposal. Abernathy had even seemed rather snide about Gideon punishing the boy. If she only knew how sweetly the boy had begged for it.
But now, Cal was late. Very late. Gideon shook his head, getting to his feet and slipping his suit jacket on, before stepping into the hallway and heading towards Cal’s Global Politics classroom. Perhaps Dr. Fabian had kept the boy late to go over coursework? Two students lingered by their lockers, but neither were Cal. Gideon stared pointedly at the two and then at his watch until the two turned and headed to the cafeteria. As he walked, his gaze swept the halls and the windowed doors of classrooms just on the off chance he might spot the boy, but he found each classroom deserted.
Dr. Fabian’s classroom was empty as well, though the door was unlocked. Gideon entered to have a look around, uncertain where to look for the boy or if he’d even come to school. He was about to leave when he spotted Cal’s backpack sitting beside a desk at the back, partially open as if he’d been looking for something when he’d left suddenly. Gideon frowned. What would have caused him to leave so quickly that he’d risk leaving his laptop and other electronics in the classroom? He retrieved the boy’s bag, scribbling a note and sticking it to the desk.
Gideon walked back to his office on autopilot, his thoughts on Cal and his sudden disappearance. He rounded the corner and ran into a balding older man with a dark beard. He wore a navy polo shirt and khakis that identified him as one of the maintenance staff. Vasily or Vladimir, something Russian. He had a mop and bucket with him, a bottle of window cleaner hooked on his belt, and a rag thrown over his shoulder. “Sir, they call me to clean up vomit in east hall bathroom, but the boy is still in there. He’s very ill, sir. Very. He’s sick…everywhere. Nurse at lunch. You come?”
Gideon nodded, stomach sinking as he followed the man. When they reached the restroom, the man pointed to the door but wouldn’t go inside. Gideon frowned, pulling open the door and stopping short, the acrid stench of vomit rocking him back on his heels and knocking him backward into memories from his childhood, of his father lying unconscious, beer cans littering the linoleum floor of the trailer. He forced the thoughts away, stepping over a puddle an alarming shade of bright green.
He rapped his knuckles sharply on the closed door at the end of the row of stalls.
“Occupied,” Cal called weakly.
Part of Gideon was relieved to have found the boy, but the rest of him couldn’t help but worry about an illness this abrupt. “Callum, it’s Gideon. Let me in.”
Gideon listened to the sound of shifting and fabric rustling, but then Cal was heaving again, moaning as his body attempted to rid itself of whatever contents remained inside his belly. “I’m fine. I have a stomach bug. I just need a few more minutes and I’ll be good to go. You don’t have to worry.”
Gideon didn’t believe him for a second. Cal’s voice was raw and weak, his breathing heavy through the door. In the mirror, Gideon could make out Cal’s legs outstretched, his back propped against the tile walls. “Callum, open this door right now or I’ll break it down.”
There was a shuffling sound and then the door creaked open. Gideon pushed the door open to find Cal leaning heavily against the porcelain seat. He knelt beside the boy, holding his head in his hands. Cal gazed up at him, miserable. He seemed glassy-eyed, his skin chalky, lips chapped, his whole body cold and sweaty. “Did you take something? Pills? Booze? Don’t lie to me.”
Cal pulled away from Gideon, pulling his knees to his chest. “Right. Now, I’m a fucking junkie. It’s food poisoning…or a stomach bug. I don’t do drugs.”
Gideon gave him a stern look, pushing the boy’s hair off his damp forehead. “This isn’t a joke.”
Cal glared at him. “I don’t find being accused of being a drug addict particularly amusing, so I guess we’re even,” Cal snapped before wrapping his arms around his middle and groaning.
“How long have you been like this?” Gideon asked. “When did this start?”
Cal shrugged, his head tipping back onto the tile, lids fluttering as he struggled to keep his gaze on Gideon. “Right after fourth period, I guess.”
Food poisoning would have come on much more quickly. Gideon supposed it could be a stomach bug, but something about the boy’s pallor concerned him. “Can you walk?”
A smile crossed Cal’s face, fading as fast as it arrived. “Why, are you going to carry me?”
Gideon dropped his voice low. “Do you think I won’t, brat? Try me.”
Cal groaned. “You do that and it’ll just make me an even bigger laughing stock. You’ll make me even more hated than I already am, and then they’ll come for you next.”
Gideon stood, pulling Cal to his feet with ease, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Then I guess it would be in your best interest to keep your feet underneath you. Walk or I’ll carry you,” he ordered, but there was no real heat behind his words.
The maintenance man entered the restroom with a grimace. There was a sign declaring the restroom closed just outside the door, but there were no others in the halls. Once they entered Gideon’s office, he helped Cal to the leather sofa in the corner, tucking a pillow beneath the boy’s head. Once he seemed comfortable, Gideon locked the door and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and handed it to Cal who twisted off the top and started to guzzle the water in deep pulls. “Ah-ah. Careful, little bird. Slow down. That cold water will make your stomach cramp. Sip it.”
“I’m just so thirsty,” Cal said, his voice small.
“I know. But if you just throw it up again, that won’t help anybody. Do you want me to call somebody to come retrieve you and take you to the doctor?”
Cal’s eyes went wide. “No!” At Gideon’s arched brow, Cal shrugged. “It’s just that Bastian’s mom can’t really be pulled from work. She already had to miss part of her work day yesterday. I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest. I’ve been a bit under the weather. That’s all. Preparing for final projects and IB exams is just…it’s just a lot. You know?”
Gideon did know, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that, but what could he say? He didn’t know Cal, and Cal didn’t know him. Not really. Not at all. He couldn’t ask him to bare his soul or to trust him with all his secrets when Gideon would never do the same. Theirs was a hopeless situation that was bound to end in pain and resentment, but a promise was a promise. He’d agreed to be Callum’s Daddy for the next six weeks, and he wouldn’t shirk his responsibilities.
“I’m going to take you home. You need some rest. I’ll make sure you aren’t marked as absent and that you get your classwork sent to you on Blackboard.”
Cal did his best to sit up but then groaned, doubling over. “No. I said I’d be fine. Just give me some time.”
