Chapter 12

Miss Jerries waves as she waits for me by the entrance. “Morning, Miss Jerries,” I say friendlily, feeling pretty positive this morning. “Morning, Mr Ardis! How was your weekend?” She asks, adjusting her necklace where it’s gotten tangled with the pendant.

“It was good thanks, it’s a shame now that my sister has gone home again though,” I admit, thinking back to the emotional departure last night. Miss Jerries clicks her tongue, giving up untangling her jewellery.

“Good! Oh yes, you mentioned that she was coming to stay, hopefully she’ll visit again soon,” she says kindly. Humming, I nod, holding the door open for Miss Jerries. “How was your weekend?” She smiles at me, with what I assume is gratitude for holding the door for her.

“Lovely, thank you - Stevie, Ellie and I went out for dinner yesterday - oh, Ellie is my daughter, and I’m pretty sure when I got tipsy off my head Dray and I chatted about Stevie.” I nod again, smiling at her.

“Sounds like you have a very lovely family,” I scratch the back of my neck nervously when Mr Hastidal comes into view. He’s chatting with another teacher, a big sunny smile on his face as they part ways, and Mr Hastidal comes towards us.

How is he always so happy?

“Thank you, they’re really incredible,” Miss Jerries says, turning to me and smiling broadly. “Miss Jerries, Mr Ardis, good morning!” He says cheerily, stopping to chat with us as we all go into the teachers’ office.

Luckily, he says nothing about us having lunch together, or my magical ‘headache’.

Miss Jerries has a lesson first thing, as English is a popular subject, so she teaches more classes in general. I have a lot of classes as well, because I’m the only law teacher. Yay, how I love being infinitely busy! It’s fine though, I prefer being busy than bored.

Mr Hastidal has the fewest classes out of all of us, because there are a few music teachers, and it’s not the most popular subject to begin with. The most popular ones are always English, the sciences and maths. Everyone hates them, but everyone takes them.

Mr Hastidal and I both wave goodbye to Miss Jerries as she leaves for her first class. Mr Hastidal whips out some papers and begins marking them, whilst I have nothing to do. I’ve planned the lessons already, and I have about half an hour before my therapy session.

Which I still don’t know where I’m going to have. I talked to Principal Smith, but he really doesn’t like me, so fat chance he’d give me a room I could use. Clearing my throat, I turn to look at Mr Hastidal slightly.

He tears himself away from his work, looking at me. “Uh, I have a phone call I need to take shortly, is there somewhere I could do that?” I ask, trying not to sound too nervous about my therapy session. He smiles, nodding.

“Of course - you remember the music rooms I showed you last time? There’s almost always a free practice room you can use - and if not, there’s the equipment room, which is normally locked, so students don’t access it. When’s your call? I could take you now if you’d like.”

This guy is seriously my knight in shining armour, I’m not even joking. He’s a real guardian angel.

“That’d be amazing, thank you so much. It’s in 20 minutes,” I explain, glancing at my wrist watch again. He puts his pen and papers down, pushing them more centrally on his desk before standing up.

“Cool, shall we go?” He asks, and I nod a little too enthusiastically as I stand up. He laughs quietly, opening the office door and holding it for me. I really love the sound of his laugh, and the look on his face when he smiles.

It makes me want to see him smile more, hear him laugh more. It makes me want to make him smile more, laugh more.

Wiping my face with a hand in the hopes it’ll clear the thoughts from my head, I follow Mr Hastidal up to the music rooms. He clicks his tongue, peering in to each of the music practice rooms. Most have a piano in, some have drum kits, and some are completely empty, presumably for students who bring their own instruments.

We reach the last one, and Mr Hastidal’s face lights up. “This one’s free! There’s fairly good soundproofing in this building, but let me know if you think it will be too loud.” I smile slightly at him, stepping in to the room and closing the door behind us.

The sound of many different pieces of music played all at once, on a variety of different instruments, is suffocated once the door closes, and only the faint tinkling of notes coming from the piano in the room next to ours can be heard.

“Wow, that’s cool, how it’s so…quiet in here,” I turn around, looking out the small window in the back of the room. It’s a small space in here, and being in here with another person is beginning to make me jittery.

I’m good with small spaces so long as I’m the only one there, but it’s like with my car - I still can’t believe I got in a car with Mr Hastidal, I clearly wasn’t thinking straight.

“Are you alright? Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, worry percolating through his tone. Turning around, I force a smile. “Not at all, it’s fine,” I say, like I have no reason whatsoever to be scared of him.

Because honestly? I don’t have a reason to be scared of him. He’s never done anything to make me think otherwise, but that’s not how my brain works. I hate people feeling like they’ve done something wrong, because of how I act. Most people have done nothing wrong. But there were some people, who did everything wrong, and that sticks with me.

Mr Hastidal frowns, leaning against the wall. “Why do you keep doing that then?” He gestures towards my face, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?” I mirror his body language, relaxing against the wall.

“Why do you always fake a smile? If you don’t want to smile, just don’t do it. There’s no point in showing people something that isn’t real or the truth.”

Well now, that ticks me off. I’ve spent three years faking every little thing about myself, and the last two faking every emotion so as to not hurt others.

I scowl slightly, pushing myself off the wall. “So what? I should just look indifferent all the time? Because yeah, that’d help make me fit in with my new job I’m sure, make me nice and approachable to my students.”

He looks taken aback, probably because I always fake that happy smile and don’t let how I’m actually feeling get out. “And besides, are you saying you never fake an expression? There’s no way you naturally smile as much as you do.”

Now he looks pissed off, and a little…hurt? Oh good, I’ve fucked things again. But I’m in angry adrenaline mode, and I find myself not caring. I know I will later, though.

“I never fake my emotions. I smile easily, at little things. So what? That makes me fake like you? Because you never actually smile, apparently, and I smile too much? That’s bullshit, Fyfe Ardis, and you know it. I appreciate the little things in life, and let them bring me happiness, let them bring a real smile to my face. But you? Your expressions never reach your eyes, except for that one time, when I touched you and you looked scared. You just don’t know how to be happy,” he says curtly, turning on his heel and leaving the practice room.

Sighing, I cover my face with my hands. “You have no idea how accurate you are, Dray Hastidal.”

And I’m feeling it already. That regret I knew I’d feel once I pushed away one of the few people really trying to get to know me.