Page 5 of Menace

Picking my toothbrush up from the bathroom sink, I go through the motions of my morning routine. Like every other day, I brush my teeth while I’m waiting for my moisturizer to dry, and just like every day since I had the Jeep escapade, my thoughts drift back to Mason. There’s something about him, about the way he’d plunged into me, the way he hadn’t treated me like I was going to break. He’d manhandled me, dented my flesh, thrusted like he couldn’t get deep enough. God, I’d loved it all. While my body is begging to meet Mason for another hot night in the back of his Jeep, there’s something holding me back.

“Just call it like it is, Karina. You’re scared,” I taunt my reflection in the mirror. I try not to see how bright my eyes are, how alive I look. I haven’t looked this way in a long time, and the brightness has been shining since my date. I’ve seen a spark inside me that I haven’t had in years – maybe ever – in my adult life.

The passion I felt with Mason, I’ve never felt before. Not with the man I was supposed to have married, not with my high school boyfriend, not with anyone. And that’s what scares me. Shouldn’t I have felt the searing desire for the man I was going to marry? It’s got me questioning everything I thought I knew about my wants and desires. It’s also got me very confused, which is why I completely ignore the next two messages he sends me. When all I really want to do is answer them and plan out our next date.

* * *

“Quiet down everybody!”

I raise my voice attempting to shush the twenty teenagers I teach in the last class of the day. There are times when I want my English class back, the original class I taught when I came here and the class I still teach at night on occasion, but typically I love that I‘ve been able to mix things up. This last class of the day, let’s just say if they were my first, I’d probably have given up on teaching. On a good day they’re hard to control; today, they’re trying my patience. They’ve been this way since we came back from our Christmas break. This group of seniors is ready for the year to be over. If they continue on the way they have been, I’ll be glad to see the ass-end of this school year too.

“Okay, next week we’ll have a few of your family members coming in to talk about their jobs and realistic expectations regarding real-life wages and education. What I want from you all tomorrow is a two-page paper on what your dream occupation would be, comparing it to what Laurel Springs has to offer. If you were to be able to get your dream job, what would you need to do to achieve it? How would you make it happen? If you don’t make it happen, where do you think you’ll end up?”

There’s groans throughout the room and a few giggles. Sitting on my desk, I look out amongst these kids, who are so close to adults, and try to remember back to how I felt at this time in my life. My dream hadn’t been to be a teacher. I’d wanted to be an artist. As a teenager, I’d dabbled in drawing, pottery, painting, and anything else I could get my hands on. Some days I wish I had made the decision to keep going, but at the end of the day, I do love these kids.

“I need that tomorrow,” I remind them as the bell rings, signaling the end of my day. Already I know which ones will turn it in, and which ones won’t.

“Caleb,” I call out to one of my students as they file out. “Your dad is still good with coming to talk to us?”

All I know is his dad is a member of the Moonshine Task Force here in the county, and given that the kids have had issues with drinking, I think it would be good for him to talk to all of us.

“Yeah.” He nods, waving to a girl who tells him bye, giving her a smile. This kid is going to have so many women at college. “This will be his mid-shift, but he’ll be here for the second half. They’ve got it cleared.”

“I’ll thank him when he’s here, but please tell him as well. It could be a bit of a hostile environment, considering what he represents.”

We both know I’m talking about the moonshine being shared in the school. The teachers have been warned, but the perpetrator still hasn’t been caught.

“Ms. Holland, my dad’s a strong dude; he knows what he’s in for.”

I give Caleb a smile. “You know your dad better than anybody, so I’ll have to trust you on this.”

He pulls his bag over his shoulder. “I gotta get to conditioning. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Giving him my own wave, I watch him leave; excited for the opportunity I’m going to be able to give my students.

Menace

“What does it mean when a woman you had a good time with and thought for sure you’d see again, completely stops returning your texts and doesn’t answer your phone calls?” I ask my son as we sit down to dinner together.

He chuckles, taking a drink of his water. “You mean she ghosted you, Dad? One date and she ghosted you?”

“What the hell doesghostedmean?”

Sometimes when he talks, I feel ninety years old.

“When someone totally disappears from your life, without a trace.”

Exactly what hot-as-hell-Karina did to me? “Yeah, that’s it, then. She even took her profile down on the site.”

“Damn, Dad. Are you that bad of a date?”

Truthfully, I hadn’t thought I was. But maybe I’ve been out of the game longer than I thought. “I didn’t think so.” I load my fork up with the steamed broccoli I made.

“Go for it again, I can tell you had a good time. You were smiling for a couple of days after. You seemed not so serious for a while. It looked good on you.”

“I smile.” I’m offended that my son acts like I don’t.

He chews thoughtfully on the chicken he grilled for us, while I’d made the sides. “You do smile, but you smile like I did a few months ago. It’s for appearances purpose; it doesn’t meet your eyes. Face it, Dad, you’re sick of living your life alone. It’s not a bad thing but be honest with yourself. For those few days after your date, your smile reached your eyes and you didn’t look like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

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