Uncover

One

It's mid February and the shine of a new semester has already worn off. My students are showing signs of boredom and fatigue, already counting down until spring break. To be honest, I'm not my most energetic self either. Between my breakup with Beth and my strange week in Tahoe, I'm off balance, and sleep doesn't come easy.

Still, my heart wells with pride every time I hear my kids sing. I'm a choir director at a well funded high school in Los Angeles. These kids are all dedicated and college bound. It's an easy gig when they already love learning and music. And since I'm a fairly cool and laid back teacher, I'm well liked. Almost too well liked sometimes.

There's one girl in particular, a pretty redhead named Claire... She stares at me a lot. I recognize the look because I am a human male after all. But I've never crossed that line. My first year of teaching, Beth was a senior in my class. I knew that she was special, but I behaved. After she was eighteen and well out of my class--in fact, I put her off until she was a college sophomore--I began to let myself relax in her presence. I'm guessing Claire heard that I'm newly single and knows I have a history of dating old students. Maybe she thinks that while she's showing off her pretty voice, her pretty smile is laying the groundwork for a future relationship.

I can't even entertain the possibility. Not a single woman has been able to hold my attention these two months besides Taylor Cisneros. Those eerie blue eyes and that platinum hair... The blush that had colored her cheeks... I have clung to the memory of her like a life raft, as I have tried to re-adapt to the raging seas of the single life. I have invented wild stories about her, fantasized alternate endings to our brief encounter, or encounters as it may be. She has haunted my dreams and my waking thoughts until I've started to lose touch with reality.

"How was that, Mr. K.?" Claire asks and I realize I've tuned out her little solo section. I scramble to cover this up.

"It was lovely, Claire. Make sure you're not pushing too hard through the minor passage. If you need to come up into head voice for it--"

"I can belt it. I promise I can. I think maybe the pollen count is high today or something."

I smile at her stubbornness, and am infinitely grateful that the bell rings then. I'm glad that this is my last class for the day, for the week, that nothing else will be required of me until Monday. In a haze, I lock up the choir room, stagger out to the parking lot, and hurry home. I'm stripped down to my underwear and flopped in front of the TV before the time when I'm normally leaving work. I'm not tired, but I find myself dozing. When my phone rings, I jump about a mile out of my recliner. I haven't been very good company lately, so it's uncommon for me to get a call. When I look at the screen and see that it is Beth calling, my body freezes.

After working so very hard not to hate her, the urge to decline her call is still pretty strong. I don't want to hear her pretty voice. I don't care what she has to say. But I also don't think I could handle the curiosity, wondering why she would call me now after so long.

"Hello?" I say tentatively.

"Avi," she says. Her voice is soft, careful, like she's approaching a wild dog.

I can't think of what to say next. Should I ask what she wants? Could I possibly ask that without it coming out hatefully? I decide not to risk it and simply say: "Beth."

"I, um, I'm sorry to just call you like this out of the blue. But it felt weird to text it, and it's important."

"Okay," I reply, my free hand clenched into a fist as a reminder to keep my mouth shut as much as possible.