Page 144 of Straight to Me

His face tightens before he smiles.

“Why not use a wine glass?” he asks, nodding towards my drink as he crosses his arms again. He’ll probably think I’m ridiculous. But the truth is, since we split, it’s the only way I drink it.

“Prefer it this way.” Our eyes meet over this small trivial thing, yet another reminder of our time together.

Chapter Thirty-Five

After eating, we sat on the sofa to discuss how I could keep working while making sure I was still safe from any possible threat from the Sodom Saviours. In the end, I was surprised he was willing to let me out of his sight, considering he’d asked a million times that I called in sick. But who knew how long things would be so tense. I gave him a copy of my work schedule and wrote down the timetable I’d made for Lauren.

It wasn’t just me I needed to think about in all of this. If the Sodom Saviours knew of my connection to Dean, then they could go after not just me, but my family, my sister’s family… Lauren. If Travis could find me at the school I worked, then what was to stop the Sodom Saviours from doing the same? They could hurt someone innocent in all of this and I couldn’t stomach that. I’d cooperate with whatever plan Dean and the Rippers came up with, so long as it kept the people in my life safe.

Before saying good night, we agreed he would take the sofa instead of sleeping in the hall. Neither of us slept well, but we remained in separate rooms at least. I didn’t need any more confusion right now.

The following morning I wake to a cup of tea beside the bed. This simple gesture has me wanting to walk to him, to wrap my arms around his body, to kiss those perfectly soft lips.

But it isn’t that simple.

We’re no longer together. All night mum’s words wouldn’t leave me alone; sometimes, we’re completely blind-sighted by love, we forget to be wise.

We tiptoe around each other, taking turns using the bathroom to get ready. I watch from my bedroom as he dresses, but he can’t see me. He looks tired, drained and stressed by everything that’s happened in such a short time, that and all the drinking wouldn’t help.

My breath grabs in my throat when he turns, pulling his shirt over his strong arms. The morning light floods the living room, bouncing off his skin. He really is the finest specimen of a man I’ve ever seen.

We are in no way behaving like our normal selves around each other, but my feelings for him haven’t changed, that much is clear. With that unwelcome knowledge, I know I have to keep distance between us. I can’t afford to be distracted, and neither can he.

I choose to use a hot desk in Lauren’s school, promising Dean I’ll stay put if he promises to get some rest. He didn’t seem too impressed when I gave him boundaries for this protection detail of his. But he accepted that it would be my way or nothing at all.

Lauren meets me in the small office I’m using at lunch, much to her delight, to chat about how openly she’d alluded to using drugs. “Can we get this over with, Miss?”

I look her square in the eye, my face, expressionless. She rolls her eyes closing the door to the office behind her. “Thank you. This will be over when I feel satisfied that you and I are on the same page, now please, sit down.”

She begrudgingly pulls out the chair I dragged in here from the office next door. Dropping her bag to the floor, she pulls her headphones from her ears and takes a seat.

Last night I chose to do a bit of research when I couldn’t sleep, looking up how best to broach the subject of drugs with teenagers. Honest and open conversations were a must.

I smooth my hands over my trousers and adjust my shirt as I sit down.

“I know in the past you have sat down with people like me who have tried to talk to you about the risks involved in taking drugs, but I want to hear from you, why you’re so against talking to me about it.”

She looks down at her thumbs on her lap. “I don’t know. Guess it’s just the same old thing… you’ll tell me they’re bad, I’ll tell you I’m not doing drugs, you’ll tell me I am, then I’ll have to promise to go and speak to the local support and treatment service, just to keep you off my back.”

She keeps her gaze down, looking at her hands. This is a young adult clearly fed up with the system that’s designed to help her.

“Okay, so you don’t take drugs,” I say softly.

Her eyes then shoot to mine.

“What?” she questions, scrunching up her face.

“I believe you.” It’s clear from how she dresses, her punctuality with her lessons, the way I watched her reading yesterday, Lauren isn’t someone actively using drugs as a method to cope with the hardships she’s faced.

“You, believe me?”

“Yes, I do, but—”

“—there’s always a but,” she scoffs cutting me off.

“Hear me out…but… what you said to me yesterday makes me think that you have seen, or see, people taking drugs. Am I right?” She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes move wildly as though the words are on the tip of her tongue. “I’m not asking you to snitch or get anyone in trouble. My job Lauren, is to make sureyouare safe. I’m also not going to refer you to anyone, I just want to know that if ever you need someone to talk to, about any of this, you’ll come to me, or speak to another adult whom you trust.”

---