See Me After Class(25)

“You’re drinking at night, you’re never here, you’re—”

“And what exactly do you think I’m doing, Arlo?”

Treading carefully, I say, “You’re exhibiting the same kind of behavior that—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” She holds up her fork for emphasis. “I might be sad that I’m getting divorced, but I’m also happy that I’m out of that toxic relationship. You don’t need to worry about me, Arlo. I know what I’m doing.”

“And what is that?”

She sips from her water glass and gently sets the cup down. “I’ve been seeing my therapist, trying to get my head on straight.”

“You’ve been seeing Dr. Fulkner again?”

She shakes her head. “No. I didn’t feel like falling asleep during my session from his boring voice. I found someone new.”

“Who is it?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re insufferable.” She takes a bite of the salmon and groans. “Insufferable but knows how to cook one hell of a salmon.” I’m rewarded with a smile, which I needed. “I also appreciate you, big brother. I know this isn’t ideal, but it’s where life has me right now.”

I wait a few seconds. “I know I’m badgering, but my concern runs deep, Coraline.”

Her fork pauses on her plate and she looks up at me. Sincerity is in her eyes when she says, “I’ll never do that again, Arlo.”

I solemnly nod. “If it’s ever in the realm of your thoughts, you come to me immediately.”

She reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I will. You might drive me crazy, but you know I’ll come to you.”

“Thank you.” Knowing that’s the best I’ll get from her right now, there’s no point pushing. Times like these, I wish we had a proper, caring mom here. To be a kinder, more empathetic shoulder to lean on than I am. Coraline deserves the world, as her heart is gold.

God, I hope I never see her so broken ever again. Not sure my heart would withstand that. Twice.

“Is that why you’ve been grumpy the last few days? I mean, you’re always grumpy, but the slamming of kitchen cabinets has been more frequent than normal.”

“I’m surprised you’ve been around to hear the slamming of the cabinets.” I smirk.

“Lots of walks,” she answers, and I hate that a part of me doesn’t believe her. “So, what’s going on? A new student driving you crazy? Remember that one kid you used to bitch about all the time? What was his name . . . Needlepoint, or something?

“Neanderpoint. Will Neanderpoint.”

“Yes, that’s him. He’d spend the entire class contradicting everything you said. That kid was my hero.”

“That kid is currently failing out of college. His mom emailed me this past Spring asking if I would tutor him over the summer. I ignored that email.”

“Hey”—Coraline tilts her head to the side—“you’re an educator, Arlo. You need to help out all kids, not just the ones who nod and smile at everything you say.”

“Fuck that. I’m not about to be mentally abused because some dipshit kid doesn’t know how to shut up. He’s failing because he doesn’t believe what the professors are telling him, and he tries to tell them differently. There’s ignorance and there’s indifference. That kid is indifferent.”

“But it’d have been fun for me . . . that’s what you’re not seeing here.” She laughs.

“Glad my suffering is amusing.”

“Just a little.” She swirls her fork around her plate. “So, what is it? What’s driving you crazy? New girl?”

“No.” I shake my head, even though immediately I think of Greer. I haven’t spoken a word to her since the night we played pool. I see her everywhere, though. Not just outside her classroom, but all around campus. In the teachers’ lounge, in the hallways, talking with my friends, in the parking lot, running around in tiny spandex shorts with her volleyball team . . . yeah, that was—hell, that wasn’t something I needed to see. I can still envision her tight bubble butt barely covered in spandex, running behind her team, her hair swishing back and forth over her shoulders.

And what’s with her dresses and skirts? Does she not own a pair of dress pants?

Her goddamn legs are phenomenal and—

“Hey,” Coraline snaps at me. “What the hell are you thinking about?”

“Huh?” I look up and a smile spreads across her face. Shit, she caught me drifting off and if I don’t come up with something on the spot, she’s going to assume it’s a girl. “Oh, sorry, just . . . uh . . . just annoyed. I think the boys are fucking with me.”

There, that’s true.

Not the entire reason why I’m apparently slamming kitchen cabinets, but a big part of it.

Another big part of it . . . the aforementioned dresses and skirts.

And tiny spandex.

“Gunner and Romeo are fucking with you?” she asks. “How so?”

“Well, the stink bomb.”

She chuckles. “Oh God, you were so angry that day.”