Page 36 of No Perfect Love

“I’ll think about it,” I lie right to Chris’ face.

Before he can call me on it, though, another little face appears in my doorway.

“Ciara.” I smile at her. “What’s up, sugar plum?” Staring pointedly at Chris, I wait for him to get up and leave.

He eyes the Taco Bell bags, but I grab them before he can do anything about it.

“Thanks for lunch.” I beam at him and bat my eyelashes. “We’ll chat more about it later.” He harrumphs but leaves anyway. Not before darting his eyes over to Ciara and widening them for a second. I shoo him away.

Ciara’s face stops me in my tracks when I turn to face her. Her normally bright eyes are clouded, and she has dark circles under them. Her skin has a yellow tint to it, and she looks sick. I prepare myself for her to give me bad news, or to tell me that Lucas has tried to cut her hair again. Once we are alone, Ciara looks around with wide eyes and trembling fingers. Her black sweater, with a bright purple star on it, seems to swallow her whole.

“Can we shut the door, Miss James?” Her voice trembles, and fear begins to slide down my skin like the slime we played with in science.

The pain in her voice, the tremor in her hands as she squeezes them together—all of it. There is something very wrong, and Ciara needs me. With a short nod, all the humor from my interaction with Chris vanishes. In its place, the full-on mask of a teacher and confidant. Someone for her to trust and to take care of her.

“Ciara, what’s wrong?”

She swallows deeply and stares down at her hands. “I don’t think I should tell you. But I have to. I don’t know what to do though.” She goes on and on, talking a mile a minute. “If I don’t tell you, something bad could happen. And I can’t let that happen. But if I tell you, everything is going to be so messed up. I just don’t know what to do.”

“Ciara.” I step out from behind my desk and take her by her hands, leading her to the desks. “Take a seat and a deep breath. Slow down.” Once she does that, she still doesn’t look me in the eye. With my heart racing, I try to think about what I can do to get her to open up. “Ciara, I’m here for whatever you have to tell me. Anything at all. All you have to do is open your mouth and start talking.”

Ciara starts crying. Not deep, heartbreaking sobs, not whimpers, but silent tears, streaking down her cheeks and mixing with the little bit of dust that clings to her cheeks from playing outside.

“Miss James, it’sbad.” She squeezes my hand, and I forget for a moment that she is just a little girl. She carries so much pain there, so much torment, all of it written on her face.

“Please, Ciara. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Ciara crumbles, laying her head down on the desk, and now the sobs start. But they only last for a few seconds before she claps her hands together and rubs her face.

“You can do it, Ciara,” she mutters to herself and I pretend I can’t hear her. She needs to work up the courage herself, and while I wait, my mind races with the possibilities.

I know her parents and her older brother. None of them would hurt her. They won’t stand for anyone else to hurt her, either. But that doesn’t mean that somethinghasn’thappened.

“Miss James. Please, you have to promise that you’ll fix it. If I tell you, it’s going to ruin everything and I need to know that if it’s lost, you’ll at least be able to fix it.”

At that point, I would tell her anything, promise anything, to lift the worry from her shoulders.

“Whatever it is, Ciara. I will do anything I can to fix it. No matter what.” That promise will get me in trouble, I can feel it. Knowing that doesn’t stop me from making it, though.

Even as she stares at me, trying to figure out if I am lying to her, I swear to myself that I’ll fix whatever it is.

I watch her make up her mind and decide that I won’t lie to her. That she can trust me with her secret. I watch the transformation, the minute amount of peace that she feels in making a decision to tell.

“It’s Lucas, Miss James.”

My heart stalls in my chest. I keep my mouth shut, though, because Ciara licks her lips and keeps going.

“We were working on the project together, trying to make a plan for the party, and he turned around. His shirt lifted up a little, and his whole back, Miss James… It’s all bruises. Not the kind from falling down, either. They’re lines… Like someone hit him with a stick.”

I exhale, haltingly and broken, but I let her finish.

“I asked him about it, and he made me promise not to tell. But Miss James.” Ciara’s eyes fill with tears again and she reaches for my hand. “He told me everything. And it’s so bad… So bad.” Tears spill over both our cheeks now, and I wipe hers away before taking care of mine with my sleeve.

“Tell me, Ciara.” I whisper, knowing we don’t have long before the lunch bell rings and I will have to do something with the information she is giving me. “What happened?”

“She hurts him,” Ciara cries. She gasps, tears still streaming down. “Makes him do things he doesn’t want to. She’s so mean to him, Miss James.”

“Who, Ciara?”