FEEL

39. Wellium

Wellium ~ an excuse you come up with to rationalize a disappointing outcome.

~ The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows ~

~°~

Mr Dawson was dismissed earlier this week. I don't know what Cameron did, nor did I ask. Although, I did hear from Kayla during lunch that he had asked her if she wanted to get the police involved or not.

“He said that it would be best if I did, but then there would be a hearing and I would have to make a statement and then my parents would have get involved...” she blew out a breath, “I couldn't. I know that I probably should have, it would have been the right thing to do for the sake of anyone else and I made a selfish decision, but God, my parents?!”

I nodded my head slowly in understanding. We were at the football field at the time because I wasn't too much of a fan of the cafeteria. “I get it. And he'll pay for it in due time, it just shouldn't be at your expense.”

I can't imagine how my own mother would react if she found out that I was sleeping with a teacher for grades. Regardless of how it happened, my mom would think that I was in the wrong, that I used my body for the wrong reasons. Kayla was in a really complicated predicament that not many would understand and not many would view her as having been wronged, when she really was.

“I'm really glad you told me to tell Mr Pierce. I don't think any other teacher would have given me that kind of option. He's so understanding. He's the one who convinced the principal not to do the hearing, you know? If that happened, I just know that the whole school would have found out.”

I smiled, not because of the credit for telling Mr Pierce, but of the knowledge that he wasn't only reliable to me, but to other people as well. I wasn't deluded into thinking he was this heroic figure, because it was true. I saw it and so did Kayla.

The teachers had a long meeting today. I assume it must be due to Mr Dawson's dismissal. I waited in the car until past 5PM when they finally came out. Mr Pierce looked spent and downright high off of the need to sleep. It made me feel bad when I had to ask him to take me to my mother's work, so I didn't.

When we got home, he took a nap, which wasn't his usual routine. Of late, Cameron Pierce has made it his life mission to avoid me as much as he could. After going to the gym, he would usually sit in the living room after a shower and read a book with me, where we'd enjoy each other's silence or end up talking more than reading. Now, he mostly coops up in his office or goes out with friends, coming home when I'm fast asleep, or at least trying to.

For some reason, I found myself to depend more on his presence than I should. I can't eat unless he's present. I can't sleep on nights that he leaves. And I can't tell him this, otherwise I'd appear to be a lovestruck puppy. I'm not lovestruck. Or a puppy.

I leave the house close to seven PM, catching an Uber to the hotel my mother works at. Ten minutes and I'm already outside, making my way in.

She's behind the counter when I come in, talking to another customer. A pang fills my chest and I can't tell if it's from the pain of watching the interaction or from seeing her after a long time.

My mother. She's a gorgeous woman. Always has been. When I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to be just like her. To look like her. To have that charming smile that invited company, those big dark eyes with a vicious glint that with one glare, demanded respect. That chocolate skin and thick hair, fairness at its finest, grace in its element. To be steadfast as a man of prestige would be, with the gentleness of a valuable woman.