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“Thanks for this, Mr. Reed.” Her cheeks turn pink as she gives me a breathless smile as she tucks a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to ruin your family dinner.”
“Trust me, I’m glad for the interruption,” I say with a chuckle. When she looks confused, I feel forced to elaborate. “Marissa’s family and I don’t exactly get along, so I’ll take any excuse to get me out of dinner with them.”
“Does any man ever get along with his in-laws?” she jokes.
“I guess not,” I say with a grin.
“Was that your daughter back there?” she asks, turning to face me. “She’s freaking adorable.”
“The problem is she knows it,” I say, my heart swelling at the thought of Kelsie. “She gets away with everything and she’s barely two. God help me when she’s a teenager…” I let my voice trail off.
“Come on now, Mr. Reed.” Chloe tsks at my awkwardness, a playful smile on her plump, red lips. “Not all teenage girls spell trouble.”
“So, where am I taking you?” I ask, deliberately changing the subject.
“On the other side of the park. In the new estate area.”
I start driving through the busy Melbourne traffic, letting her point and guide me from the restaurant toward her place. It’s not far, thank God, because I’m cautious about being seen with a student in my car, no matter how noble my intentions are. There are rules and they exist for a reason, to stop people treading lines that can become so easy to cross, especially when you’re teaching high school. I’ve never found myself in a situation like that before, but I have known people who have. Teachers that I never thought would cross that line admitting to inappropriate relationships with students, girls barely out of adolescence. I’ve often wondered how they could find themselves in such a downward spiral they’d be willing to risk everything for something they must know could never last.
“Hey, thanks for being so welcoming in class this morning…” Chloe’s voice catches me by surprise. “I’m sure I sounded like a tool when I introduced myself. When I get nervous, I overcompensate and starting a new school where I know nobody…” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Let’s just say I’m not normally so awkward.”
“It’s fine. You have nothing to apologize for,” I assure her. “And you didn’t leave that impression at all. I’m sure everyone loved you.”
I clear my throat and settle into my seat, one hand still on the wheel, determined to change my line of thought, because I’m starting to feel guilty even though I have nothing to feel guilty for.
“You just moved here from Sydney, right?” I ask, desperate to fill the now awkward silence. She nods in my periphery. “How are you liking it?”
“It's all basically the same,” she replies with a small, dismissive sigh.
She rubs her hands up and down her arms again and I smile weakly, because I have nothing to say to that. We pause at a red light just before the train crossing. I look over at her to make sure she's not still freezing her ass off, especially considering how little she is wearing—though that's typical for teenagers her age. Even at school, they bend the rules, modifying their uniforms to show as much skin as they can get away with.
My gaze drags down her, lingering on her exposed thighs as though they’re magnetized. She shifts, causing the skirt to rise up a little farther. I snap my gaze up and find myself staring into her eyes. She smiles, her eyes sharp and knowing.
Fuck.
I clear my throat as we wait for the train to pass, looking anywhere but at her.
“So, you live with your aunt?” I recall her mentioning that earlier today when she introduced herself to the class.
“That’s right,” she confirms, looking away.
Her tone is one I know well, at least when Marissa uses it—it warns me from prying further. It's not really my business or my place to get involved or interested in my students' home lives unless I suspect trouble, so I don't push it. The boom gates finally lift, and I take off again, driving us over the tracks and into one of the rougher areas of the neighbourhood.
“Turn up here,” she instructs.
I do, and she tells me to stop outside a house. While the place itself looks nice enough, the area is known for its high drug and crime rate. I’m also pretty sure it’s outside the school zone, something I know Southport High School is very strict on, but I don’t question her anymore.
“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Reed.” She flashes me a warm smile as she gets out of the car.
“Stay safe,” I call after her.
She waves at me as I pull into the driveway, reverse and then drive off, but I don’t go far. Something isn’t sitting right with me, but I can’t place what it is. I watch her in the rear-view mirror, frowning when I notice that she doesn't go into the house that she made me stop outside of. Instead, she keeps walking, disappearing into a driveway farther up the road. I’m tempted to follow her and make sure she’s okay, but I stop himself and drive off.
It’s not my business.
* * *
Rather than heading back,I find myself at the local bar a few doors down from the restaurant to get some liquid fortification before I deal with the beasts of hell. My friend Isaac owns the bar, so I know I'll get a sympathetic ear and cheap drinks while I steel myself for battle.
