The cup in my hand was starting to burn my palm. “Alan, I appreciate your concern, but I think this is something your dad should tell me on his own, when he wants to.”
Alan stared at his shoes. “But it’s my fault he was hurt.”
Chapter Ten
14 Days Until Christmas
I MOTIONEDAlan to follow me up the steps to my cubbyhole office. I turned the light on, set my coffee aside, and took a seat at the desk. I turned in the chair to look at him in the doorway.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
Alan glanced over his shoulder, buying himself a minute as he assured the band room was still empty. “When I was five… someone set our house on fire.”
And just like that, I felt my entire body go cold.
“We all got out safe, and while we were waiting for the fire department, I ran back into the house because our dog was missing.”
“Alan….”
His lip started to quiver and he sniffed loudly. “And then my dad realized I was missing and he went in after me, even though it was too dangerous and he should have waited for help. But if he hadn’t gone in, I would have died. And he got hurt really bad,” he finished, before the dam broke and Alan started sobbing.
I immediately stood with the intention of offering him my seat, but Alan grabbed on to me and hugged tight. I held my arms out awkwardly, not sure if comforting him was technically acceptable for a teacher to do, but—fuck it. We were alone, and Alan wasn’t just a student, he was my boyfriend’s son, and when I signed on to dating Felix, I knew what sort of commitments he came with. I put my arms lightly around Alan, gave him a brief hug, then managed to guide him to the computer chair. I dug out a box of tissues from a drawer; he took a handful and wiped his face.
I crouched down in front of him. “Do you need some water?”
Alan shook his head. “No.”
“Your dad is a really good man,” I whispered.
“I know.” Alan wiped his eyes again. “Dad was in the hospital. We didn’t have, like, any money for a while, until the insurance came through. And my papa—my other—”
“Eric.”
“Yeah,” Alan said meekly. “He left my dad after Christmas.” He looked at me again, and the tears were threatening to pour over once more. “I know my dad lies to me about why they got divorced. He says it was for a lot of complicated adult reasons. But I know that after the fire, Papa didn’t think Dad was attractive anymore and it really fucked him up!”
He started crying again.
To this boy, the verymeaningof beauty was Felix Hansen’s heart and soul, and Alan just couldn’t fathom why someone else—his papa—didn’t see what he did.
“Hey,” I said, patting his leg. “Listen to me. I’m so sorry your papa felt the way he did, but I promise you, that’s not what I think about your dad.”
“I don’t want him to be lonely when I go to college,” Alan continued, hiccupping. “But he has to have agoodboyfriend.”
I stared at Alan, feeling my hands shake when I asked, “Can that be me?”
Alan looked down at the tissues he’d been busily tearing to shreds in his hands. “Yeah,” he muttered, nodding. “I don’t really remember the guys he tried dating when I was little, but I just know it wasn’t like when he’s with you.”
The relief was so strong, it was like a punch to my gut. I could hardly breathe.
“I wanted to—to tell you this because I don’t want you to leave him just because he has issues talking about what happened.”
“I’m not going to leave.”
Alan picked at the torn tissue pieces from his pants and shoveled the mess into the waste bin. “Thanks,” he whispered.
I stood as Alan did, and he moved in for another hug.
This time I readily accepted it.
