Girl of the boss

about the past and I promise I'll stop." She looks at me with a subtle smirk. "I'm so glad you got dumped by that bitch Vaughn." I laugh. "Tell me about it." She smiles and releases her fingers from mine. She turns to face me on the bed and looks at me. I pull her hand up to my mouth and kiss the palm. "Do you think you would have married her?" I laugh and roll my eyes. "Seriously, Lake? Do you really want to talk about this now?" She smiles a little sheepishly at me. "I'm just curious. We've never really talked about the past.

Now that I know you're not going anywhere, I feel more comfortable talking about it. Plus, there's a lot of stuff I want to know about you," she says. "Like how you felt when she broke up with you like that." "That's a weird topic to talk about on our honeymoon." She shrugs. "I just want to know everything about you. I already have your future, now I want to know your past." She smiles. "We have a couple of hours to kill before your energy recharges completely. What else can we do?" I'm too tired to move, and even though I'm not counting, nine times in 24 hours must be a record. I lie down on my stomach, put a pillow under my chin, and start telling her my story. "Good night, Caulder." I turn off the light, hoping he won't get out of bed again. This is our third night alone here. Last night he was terrified of sleeping alone, so I let him sleep with me. I hope it doesn't become a habit, but I would totally understand if it did. I still can't wrap my head around everything that's happened in the last two weeks, much less the decisions I've made. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I know my parents want us to be together, but I don't think they'll be happy to see me give up my scholarship because of this. Why am I referring to them in the present tense? This is going to be an adjustment. I go to my room and throw myself on the bed. I'm too tired to even reach over and turn off the lamp. Just as I close my eyes, I hear a soft knock on the door. "Caulder, you're going to be okay. Go back to bed," I say, somehow dragging myself out of bed, trying to coax him back to his room. He's been able to sleep alone for seven years, so I know he can do it again. "Will?" The door opens and Vaughn walks in. I had no idea she was coming here today, but I'm grateful she's here. She seems to know exactly when I need her company the most. I walk over to her, close the door to my room, and hug her. "Hi," I say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to school today." She puts her hands on my forearms and pushes them back, giving me the most pitiful smile I've ever seen. She walks over to my bed and sits down, avoiding eye contact. "We need to talk." Her gaze sends a chill down my neck. I've never seen her so worried. I sit down on the bed next to her, bring her hand to my mouth, and kiss her. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear just as her tears start to fall. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest. "Vaughn, what's wrong? Tell me." She doesn't say anything. She keeps crying, so I give her a break. Sometimes girls just need to cry. When the tears finally start to stop, she straightens up and takes my hands in hers, but she still doesn't look at me. "Will..." She hesitates. The way she says my name, the tone of her voice... My heart starts to panic. She looks at me, but she can't hold my gaze and quickly turns her head away. "Vaughn?" I say hesitantly, hoping I'm misinterpreting things. I put my hand under her chin and force her to look at me. The fear in my voice is clear as I ask, "What are you doing, Vaughn?" She looks almost relieved that I've seen through her intentions. Then she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Will. I really am. I just can't do this anymore." Her words shock me to the core. This? She can't do this anymore? When did we become this? I don't answer. Anal, what could I say? She senses my shock, so she squeezes my hand and whispers again, "I'm really sorry." I pull away and stand up, turning my back to her. I run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath. Suddenly, the anger that's been building inside me is accompanied by tears that I don't want her to see. "I didn't expect any of this to happen, Will. I'm too young to be a mother. I'm not ready for this kind of responsibility. She's really going to do this. She's really breaking up with me. It's only been two weeks since my parents died, and she's going to break my heart again? Who does this kind of thing? She's not thinking straight. It's just shock... that's all." I turn to face her, not caring that she can see how much this is affecting me. "I didn't expect this either," I say. "It's okay, you're just scared." I sit down on the bed next to her and pull her close. "I'm not asking you to be his mother, Vaughn. I'm not asking you to be anything right now." I hug her tighter and press my lips to her forehead, which immediately makes her cry again. "Don't do this," I whisper into her hair. "Don't do this to me. Not now." She turns her head to the side. "If I don't do this now, I'll never be able to do it again." She stands up and tries to walk away, but I pull her close and wrap my arms around her waist, pressing my head to her stomach. "Please." She runs her hands through my hair and around my neck, leaning forward and kissing the top of my head. "I feel terrible, Will," she whispers. "Terrible." But I can't live a life I'm not ready to live just because I feel sorry for you. I press my forehead into her shirt and close my eyes, letting her words sink in. Does she feel sorry for me? I release my arms and push against her stomach. She pulls her hands away and takes a step back. I stand up and walk to the bedroom door, opening it to signal that she needs to leave. "The last thing I want is for you to feel sorry for me," I say, looking her in the eyes. "Will, no," Vaughn begs. "Please don't be mad at me." She looks up at me with tears in her eyes. When she cries, her eyes are a dark, cloudy blue. I used to say they were the exact color of the ocean. Looking into her eyes right now almost makes me hate the ocean. I turn and grip the door on either side of it, pressing my head against the wood. I close my eyes and try to hold myself together. It feels like the pressure, the stress, the emotions that have been building up inside me for the past two weeks... I feel like I'm going to explode. She gently places her hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I move my shoulder so she can remove her hand and turn to face her once more. "Two weeks, Vaughn!" I yell. I realize I yelled too loudly so I lower my voice and move closer to her. "They died two weeks ago! How can you think about yourself now?" She walks through the door and into the living room. I follow her as she grabs her purse from the couch and walks to the

you'll thank me for this, Will. I know it doesn't seem right now, but one day you'll realize I'm doing what's best for both of us." She turns to leave and I yell, "What's best for you, Vaughn! You're doing what's best for you!" As soon as the door closes behind her, I lose control. I run to my room, slam the door, turn around and punch it repeatedly, each time harder. When I can no longer feel my hand, I squeeze my eyes shut and press my forehead against the door. I've had to take in so much in the last two weeks-I don't know how to deal with this either.

What the hell has happened to my life? After a while, I go back to bed and sit with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. My mom and dad are smiling and watching me, trapped in the glass picture frame on the nightstand. Watching everything that's happened in the last two weeks slowly tear me apart. Why weren't they more prepared for something like this? Why would they risk leaving me with all these responsibilities? Their lack of preparation cost me my scholarship, the love of my life, and now, most likely, my entire future. I grab the picture frame and place my thumbs over the top of the picture. Using all my strength, I press until the glass cracks between my fingertips. After it shatters-and so does my life-I throw myself backward and throw the picture frame at the wall in front of me as hard as I can. The frame shatters in half as it hits the wall, shards of glass scattering across the carpet. Just as I turn to turn off the lamp, the bedroom door opens again. "Just leave, Vaughn. Please." I look up and see Caulder standing in the doorway, crying. He looks terrified. It's the same look I've seen so often since our parents died. It's the same look I saw when I hugged him goodbye at the hospital, forcing him to go with our grandparents. It's the same look that breaks my heart every time I see it. It's the look that instantly brings me back to control. I wipe my eyes and motion for him to come closer. When he does, I wrap my arms around him and pull him into my lap, holding him close as he cries softly into my shirt. I rock him back and forth and smooth his hair. I kiss his forehead and pull him closer. "Want to sleep with me again, buddy?" 2. The Honeymoon "Wow," Lake says in disbelief. "Such a selfish bitch." "Yeah. Good thing," I say. I put my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling, mimicking Lake's position in bed. "Funny how history almost repeated itself." "What do you mean?" "Think about it. Vaughn broke up with me because he didn't want to be with me just because he felt sorry for me. You broke up with me because you thought I was with you out of pity." "I didn't break up with you," she says defensively. I laugh and sit up in bed. "Like hell I didn't! Her exact words were, 'I don't care if it takes days, weeks, or months.' That's breaking up." "It's not. I was giving you time to think." "Time I didn't need." I lie back down on the pillow and turn to her. "It felt more like a breakup." - Well - she says, looking at me. - Sometimes two people need to be apart to realize how much they need to be together. I take her hand, place it between us, and then stroke it with my thumb. - We're not going to be apart again - I whisper. She looks me in the eyes. - Never. There's a certain vulnerability in the way she looks at me silently. Her eyes scan my face, and her mouth forms a shy smile. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to. In those moments, when it's just me and her and nothing else, I know she truly loves me, from the bottom of her soul. - How was it the first time you saw me? - she asks. - What did you see in me that made you ask me out? And tell me everything, even the bad thoughts. I laugh. - You didn't have any bad thoughts. Nasty thoughts, maybe. But not bad ones. She smiles. - Then you can tell me those too. the introduction I hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder and finish buttoning my shirt. - I promise, Grandma - I say into the phone. "I'm going straight from work on Friday. We were supposed to be there at five, but we're running late now. I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow." She says goodbye, and I hang up the phone. Caulder walks around the room with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a green plastic helmet on his head, like a soldier. He always tries to bring random accessories to school. Last week when I dropped him off, he got out of the car before I realized he had a holster on. I reach over and pull the helmet off his head and toss it on the couch. "Caulder, get in the car. I need to get my stuff." Caulder leaves the house, and I grab all the papers that are scattered on the counter. I've been up until after midnight grading. I've only been teaching for eight weeks, but I'm starting to understand why there are so few teachers. I put the stack of papers in the folder, put them in my bag, and leave the house. "Great," I mutter as I see the U-Haul moving truck backing up across the street. This is the third family to move into the house in less than a year. I'm not about to help anyone with boxes again, especially after only getting four hours of sleep. I hope they unload everything before I get home tonight, or I'll feel like I have to be a helper. I turn around, lock the door, and walk quickly to the car. When I open the door, I see that Caulder isn't inside. I groan and throw my things on the seat. He always picks the worst times to play hide-and-seek; we're already ten minutes late. I glance at the backseat, hoping he's hiding in the ground again, but I see him down the street. He's laughing and playing with another little boy who looks about his age. That's good. If he has a neighbor to play with, he might leave me alone more often. I yell his name, and the U-Haul catches my attention once more. The girl driving it can't be older than me, and yet she's backing the U-Haul up with confidence, without any help. I lean against the car and decide to watch her attempt to get the thing between the lawn sprites. It's going to be interesting. I quickly realize I'm wrong, because she's quickly pulling into the driveway. Instead of jumping out of the truck to see how she got there, she turns off the engine, rolls down the window, and rests her leg on the dashboard. I don't know why these little gestures seem strange to me. Or even intriguing. She drums her fingers on the steering wheel, then reaches up and pulls her hair, releasing the ponytail. It spills over her shoulders, and she massages her head, shaking the strands. Holy crap. Her gaze drifts to the boys playing in the street between us, and my curiosity gets the better of me. Could she be his sister? His mother? She doesn't look old enough to be that boy's mother,

she still sitting in the U-Haul? I realize I've been staring at her for several minutes when someone in a Jeep pulls up and parks next to her. "Please, it can't be a man," I whisper aloud to myself, hoping it's not a boyfriend. Or worse, a husband. And why would I care, huh? The last thing I need right now is a distraction. Especially from someone who lives across the street. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that the person getting out of the Jeep isn't a man. It's an older woman, maybe her mother.

The woman closes the door and walks over to the landlord, who's standing in the doorway, to say hello. Before I can talk myself out of doing something, I walk toward the house. Suddenly, I have the urge to help the neighbors move. I cross the street, unable to take my eyes off the girl in the U-Haul. She's watching Caulder and the other boy play, and she hasn't once glanced my way. I don't know what it is about her that's drawing me closer. That look on her face... it looks sad. And for some reason, I don't like it. I'm standing in the passenger side of the U-Haul, staring at her through the window, practically in a trance. I'm not staring at her because she's attractive, because she is. It's because of the way she looks. The depth of it. I want to know what she's thinking. No, I need to know what she's thinking. The girl looks out the driver's side window, says something to the boys, and opens the door. Suddenly, I realize I'm about to make a fool of myself, because I'm standing in the driveway, doing nothing but staring at her. I glance back at my house and wonder how I can get back without being seen. Before I can move, Caulder and the other little boy come running around the moving truck and bump into me, laughing. "She's a zombie!" Caulder yells after I grab them by their shirts. The girl walks around the U-Haul, and I can't help but laugh. Her head is tilted to the side, walking behind him with her legs stretched out. "Get them!" I yell at her. They try to struggle away from me, so I tighten my grip on them. I look up and our eyes meet. Wow. Those eyes. They're the most incredible shade of green I've ever seen. I try to match the color to something, but I can't think of anything. It's such a unique color, like her eyes invented their own shade. As I study her features, I realize that she can't be the boy's mother. She looks about my age. She's probably 19 or 20 at most. I need to find out her name. That way I can look her up on Facebook and at least find out if she's single. Wow. That's the last thing I need right now. To have a crush on someone. I feel like she knows what I'm thinking, so I force myself to look away. The boy notices my moment of distraction and takes advantage of it. He lets go and stabs me with an imaginary sword, and I look at the girl and mouth "help." She screams "brains" again and lunges forward, pretending to bite the top of Caulder's head. She tickles them until they both melt into the concrete floor of the driveway, then she stands up and laughs. Her cheeks flush as her eyes meet mine again, and her mouth twists in embarrassment, as if she's suddenly embarrassed. The embarrassment disappears as quickly as it came, replaced by a smile that makes me want to learn every single detail about her. "Hey, my name's Will," I say, holding out my hand to her. "We live across the street." She squeezes my hand. Hers is soft and cool, and the moment my fingers encircle it, the physical contact sends a jolt through me. I can't remember the last time a girl had such an immediate effect on me. It must be because I didn't get much sleep last night. "My name's Layken," she says, smiling again at the awkwardness. "I guess I live...here." She looks at the house behind her, then back at me. She doesn't look too happy about living "here." The same expression she had when she was sitting in the truck crosses her face, and suddenly her eyes are sad. Why does that look affect me so much? "Well, welcome to Ypsilanti," I say, desperately wanting the expression to go away. She looks down, and I realize with embarrassment that I'm still shaking her hand. So I quickly pull mine away and shove it in my coat pockets. "Where did you guys live?" "Texas?" she says. Why did she answer like it was a question? Did I ask a stupid question? Yes, I did. I'm making small talk, how stupid. "Texas, huh?" I say again. She shakes her head, but doesn't answer. Suddenly, I start to feel like a nosy neighbor. I don't know what to say without making the conversation even more awkward, so I figure the best thing to do is leave. I lean over, grab Caulder's feet, throw them over my shoulder, and tell her I need to drive him to school. "There's a cold front coming in tonight. You'd better get as much of it out as you can today. It should last a few days, so if you need help this afternoon, let me know. We'll be home around four." She shrugs. "Sure, thanks." The words have a slight southern drawl. I didn't realize how much I liked southern accents until now. I continue across the street and help Caulder into the car. As he settles in, I glance back across the street. The little boy is stabbing his sister in the back, who lets out a fake scream and falls to her knees. Their playful interaction is just one more thing that intrigues me. After he jumps on her back, she looks up and realizes I'm staring at her. I close Caulder's door and walk to the driver's side. Before I get in, I smile and wave, then sit in the car with the biggest urge to punch myself. As soon as the bell rings for third period, I unscrew the lid on my coffee and add two more packets of sugar. I'm going to need it. There's something about some third period students that bothers me. Especially Javier. That kid is a total jerk. "Good morning, Mr. Cooper," Eddie says as he sits down. She looks happy. But then again, I've never seen Eddie in a bad mood. I need to figure out what the secret is, because it's obvious that I'm not getting enough coffee today. "Good morning, Eddie." She turns, gives Gavin a kiss on the cheek, and settles in. They started dating right after I graduated. They're probably the only people in this class who don't annoy the hell out of me. Well, the two of them and maybe Nick. Nick seems nice. Once everyone is seated, I ask them to get their books. As I lecture on the elements of poetry, my mind keeps wandering to the new neighbor. Layken. I like that name. After six hours of thinking about the new neighbor only a few dozen times, Caulder and I finally get home. I close the car door and open the back to get a box of papers. When I turn around, I notice that Layken's little brother has appeared out of nowhere and is standing in front of me, staring at me silently. He seems to be waiting for us to introduce ourselves. Several seconds pass without him blinking or moving a muscle. Are we at an impasse