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I’m ready to shut it down, tell him not to worry about it, when he speaks. “My baby teeth didn’t fall out at the right time, and my mouth was too small for all my permanent teeth coming in and the ones still there…”
He hesitates, and I’m confused. He’s describing a recipe for disaster, but his smile is perfect.
“Was that bad?”
“When I was thirteen, my teeth were shoved together and became severely crooked. Some went sideways, my front teeth protruded… My parents couldn’t afford to have all the dental work done. At school, I became a joke.”
A pit is in my stomach. “Kids made fun of you?” He nods, and anger simmers hot in my chest. “But it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t just kids. The basketball coach called me ‘picket fence.’” He hesitates a beat before huffing a bitter laugh. I think I see a glimmer on his bottom lids.
He blinks it away, and my fist tightens. “What was that coach’s name?”
I can find him, and I’ll make that asshole pay…
“It doesn’t matter. I got older, made some money, and fixed my teeth.” An edge enters his voice. “Nobody will make me feel ashamed like that again.”
“If you’ll tell me his name, I’ll make sure he never makes anyone feel ashamed ever again.” I’m ready to find that motherfucker and beat his head into the ground.
Being a kid is hard enough, but there’s a special place in hell for adults who bully children, especially kind ones like Ryan.
“What are you, some kind of hit girl?” Ryan laughs, and I catch my breath, sitting a little straighter.
Easing off the revenge, I wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into a side hug, and giving him a few extra squeezes.
“Wouldn’t that be cool?” I deflect. “If I were a hit girl, I’d find that coach and find a way to humiliate him in front of everyone.”
“Reanna’s secretly a softy,” he teases.
Standing, it’s time for me to get back on the job. “Don’t tell anyone. It’d ruin my street cred.”
“I won’t.” He pats my arm, and I turn, heading back inside the psychology building.
Hurrying down the hall, I let too much time pass, and it’s very possible he’s not there anymore. I fly around the corner, my shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors, and I hear his low voice mixed with another. It’s followed by the soft sounds of laughter, and the skin on my neck prickles.
Creeping closer, I hesitate outside the door listening.
“It’s what we call ‘back to school voice.’” A woman is talking to him, but I can tell from her tone, she’s not a student.
Unexpected jealousy flares to life in my chest.
“How do I get rid of it?” Dirk’s low voice is slightly hoarse.
“Don’t talk more than you have to outside class. Eventually, your vocal cords will strengthen and adjust. You’re not used to speaking so much, and being in the auditorium makes you project more than normal.” A crinkling of plastic, and she speaks again. “Here.”
“Peppermint?” Dirk is skeptical.
“Hot tea with lemon and honey is also good.”
“How about a jolly rancher? I like the green ones.”
“What are you, twelve?”
Mental note. Knocking softly on the door, I wait as he walks over to open it. My brow tightens with fear. I’m unsure how he’ll react to my being here after last time.
I’m relieved when a smile relaxes his features. “Miss Lorak, I wasn’t expecting to see you. Can I help you with something?”
“I’m so sorry to interrupt.” When I speak to him, it’s soft and low, touched with an accent I learned to hide years ago. “I can come back another time.”
