Beckett
Elouise smilesat me from across the cafeteria and – for the hundredth time – I remind myself that we’re in public, surrounded by children and I can’t do a goddamn thing about my desire to claim her completely.
Our talk in the classroom went better than I’d hoped. But I should’ve known better. Elouise is a smart, reasonable person and everything I told her was the truth.
I regret causing her pain, but I don’t regret putting our feelings out in the open. I like her. She likes me. And I’m getting too old to dick around anymore. I don’t know that I want forever. I’m not entirely sure I believe that’s a real thing anymore. But whatever this ends up being, I’m not gonna let her slip through my fingers before it even starts.
“Uncle Beckett!” Clint’s unnecessarily loud shout is accompanied with a tug on my shirt.
“Christ, kid, I’m right here,” I tap the side of my head with my palm, like I’m trying to knock my hearing back in place.
“You’re not supposed to say that,” he lifts his eyebrows and looks so much like his mother I almost shudder.
Same light brown hair, same light brown eyes, same judgmental stance. It’s uncanny.
“Yeah, yeah, you can tell on me later.”
“Can we go?” he yanks on my shirt again and I bat his hand away.
“Um,” I look around at all the lunch tables still covered with posterboards, and experiments. All the kids standing next to their displays. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not. I’m bored,” His sigh is soul deep.
Usually I’d agree with him, but watching Elouise walk through the aisles as she listens to the kids describe their projects has been immensely entertaining.
Before we entered the room, she disentangled her arm from mine. I felt the loss of her warmth immediately, but I didn’t say anything. This is her place of work, so I understand wanting to stay professional. Even if professional in this case includes lackluster Styrofoam volcanos and petri dishes showing the amount of bacteria on the drinking fountain spout.
But Elouise didn’t ditch me. She walked with me right to Clint’s table, introducing herself as Miss Hall, one of the 4th grade teachers.
Clint was instantly enamored with her. Can’t really blame him since I feel the same way, but it did irk me a little that he spent the first five minutes telling her about his dumb meal worms without sparing me a single glance. I’m his uncle. I’m the one he should want to impress.
When she gracefully excused herself to move to the next table, Clint turned to me and told me he wanted her as his teacher next year. I nodded, understanding. I’d want her as a teacher too, and not just because she’s hot. She’s patient, the exact sort of thing I needed when I was Clint’s age, really the sort of thing every kid needs.
The small human at my side drops down into the plastic seat attached to the table, melting into the surface with a dramatic groan.
“What time is this supposed to go til?” I ask him.
“I dunno. Forever,” he moans.
I let him see my eye roll, “Keep an eye on your worms. I’ll go find out when we can leave.”
Clint’s limp body perks up, “Kay!”
Picking my way through the clusters of parents, I aim myself towards Elouise. She’s not here as an official chaperone, but she’ll know what time this is supposed to wrap up.
When I turn to head down the next aisle of tables, my eyes are drawn to a man stepping out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. His dark buzzed hair, triggering a memory.
Son of a bitch.
Changing my trajectory, I stride towards the doorway.
This dickhead is getting a piece of my mind.
Stepping into the hallway, I look both ways but I don’t see him.
Fuck.
I was only seconds behind him. He couldn’t have gotten far.