Page 112 of Bad For A Weekend

Butterflies fill my belly when our knees brush, and I get a whiff of his manly aftershave. It’s the same familiar scent I haven’t been able to find at the store. Would it be weird for me to ask him which one it is? Probably.

“You look good.” Realizing how that sounded, he backtracks. “Healthy. You look healthy.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for when I woke up this morning,” I joke.

“You succeeded.” He winces. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared, and now I’m coming off like a creep.”

“No. You’re fine. It’s a surprise to us both. I googled the district and thought I was meeting Oscar Muñoz.”

“He retired last year.”

“Oh.” The word hangs in the air as we both turn into nodding bobbleheads.

The crunchy awkwardness makes me uneasy. There was a time I felt like I could tell him anything, and now, I don’t know. I’m waiting for some cue from him that he’s not giving me. Is he even happy to see me? Or is this a blast from the past he’d rather not have?

“I guess you probably have some questions for me,” he says, gesturing to my iPad.

“Oh, right. Yes.” I unlock the device and clear my throat. These are the last questions I want to ask, but he seems to want to keep us on task. “How long have you been with the school district?”

“I’ve only been with Claremont a few months now, but I have been working in schools for a total of ten years, with only a minor break.”

We both know what that break entailed. There’s no need to rehash the details, so I move on without asking him to elaborate.

“What made you—” Realizing I forgot to turn on the recording app on my phone, I fumble around before setting the phone on the desk and pressing the record button. “Sorry,” I say.

“No problem.” He holds back his grin, apparently enjoying watching me fall apart.

Scowling, I poise my Apple Pen for use. “What made you want to work as a resource officer?”

“I think America is failing our youth. I worked as a patrol officer for a time and saw over and over that kids aren’t being set up for success. Some have to drop out of school to help at home, or some are never shown that they have a future outside of what they see at home. I couldn’t make a difference arresting these kids for drugs or theft, but I can help them before they get to that point.”

Owen hasn’t changed a bit. He’s still the most amazing man I’ve ever met.

I clear my throat. “Can you tell me what the average day looks like for you?”

He crosses his ankle over his knee. “I start in the high school parking lot, walking around and making sure everything is running smoothly before the morning bell. It gives me a chance to talk to the kids in a more relaxed environment and make sure parents who drop their kids off are doing so in a timely manner. Then I check my emails, find out if any issues need to be dealt with, and go wherever I’m needed. At any moment, I could be called in to handle bad behavior or a fight. I check on the students I keep a close tab on, and yeah, that’s pretty much my day-to-day. I also help during games at the high school or dances, that kind of thing.”

“Never a dull moment.”

“Not a one.”

I read the next question before speaking it out loud.What is the administration doing to keep their students and staff safe?I bite my lip, knowing this will be a triggering conversation. I was okay asking Oscar these questions, but not Owen.

“It’s okay,” he says knowingly. “I know why you’re here and the things you want to ask.”

My heart thumps loudly. During our time apart, my care and concern for him haven’t dimmed at all. Even after the late nights when Ziggy and I drank too much and hurled curses at him for leaving me. That was all for show because seeing him smiling warmly at me, trying to put me at ease so I could ask him questions I know will bring back his deepest and darkest, makes me love him just as much as I did when we were making love in Tulum.

“Are you sure? I could call the district and ask them—”

“Baylor, it’s okay.”

“It’s just I know—”

“Baylor.” His authoritative tone shuts me right up, and I squeeze my thighs together. That always was my kryptonite. He softens his voice. “It’s fine. I swear.”

I nod and blurt, “Can you tell me what the administration is doing to keep the students and staff safe?”

“First, you may have noticed the school is a single-entry building, as are all the schools in the district. The office staff is behind bulletproof glass, and you must show identification and have a verifiable reason to enter the building. We’ve installed seven-foot steel fencing around most of our properties and are working on finishing them all by the start of the next school year. We have emergency preparedness protocols and security cameras that are continually monitored. Those things are helpful but not the most important security measure we implement.”

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