SWNOVELS Invisible String: Chapter 21
John Hughes Move (Acoustic) – Maisie Peters
He stood in the middle of the large room, students, volunteer parents and teachers fixated on him as he thanked them endlessly for their help and dedication to the school before launching into the full run down for tomorrow. It was like there was an invisible spotlight shining down on him, my attention tied as he was every bit as magnetic as he’d always been, annoying or not.
It didn’t help that he looked close to devastating in black trousers and a dove gray shirt that fit him so perfectly, I was sure it had been tailored.
It had been a long day since the argument with Dad that morning, with students running wild, flicking paint all over the room, and having a constant battle for attention with their phones. The pile of papers needing grading was wildly out of control, and I’d made no progress during my single free period today, instead staring down at the same essay for the entire period. Life outside school was no better with the anxiety of returning home to Dad, and running well overdue picking up another renewed prescription after I’d used up the last of my pills last week.
I was exhausted. I’d entirely forgotten about this meeting, only remembering when Rob caught me leaving at the end of the school day. I’d nearly sworn with frustration, realizing I couldn’t blow this off.
“Anyway, if anyone has any questions, please feel free to direct them to myself or Ms. Davis. We both thank you again for your time and effort, and please wish our students good luck!” Ben wrapped up, indicating over to me.
I forced a smile, raising my hand and giving a small wave to those who bothered to look my way. The room filled with clapping, every single parent so impressed by the man that was teaching their kids.
Me, on the other hand……
“I don’t understand what Jessica has to do to get a better grade in your class,” Jenna, the mother of aforementioned Jessica, continued. She’d zeroed in on me right after Ben finished talking, launching straight into an endless tirade about Jessica’s recent grades.
I gritted my teeth, trying to hold onto the last of my control. “I’ve already discussed this with Jessica. She hasn’t handed in any completed work for our assignments, so her grade is incomplete, like her work. If she can finish the assignments by next week, I’ll reconsider it.”
Jenna’s jaw fell open, like I’d suggested her kid retake the entire year instead of completing the work. This was typical, an overbearing parent overly involved with their kids, when I’d already discussed it with Jessica earlier in the week.
“By next week is unacceptable. Are you aware this is only art?” she said, so casually I barely felt the temperature change of my blood: simmering to boiling over in the time it took to speak twelve words.
“Only art?”
She stood defiant.
“Ma’am, if it’s only art then what excuse has Jessica got for not handing in completed work?” I argued. She opened her mouth to answer, but I cut her off. “Does she hand in completed work for her other classes?”
She blinked a couple of times, trying to collect herself and stammered, “Y-y-yes.”
“So she is capable of it. Does she need more time, is she over extended?”
“Well, no but –”
“I can give her two weeks,” I said. “I want Jessica to realize her full potential and hand in a full project. But I guess with a parent like you, dismissive of some ‘lesser’ subjects, it’s understandable Jessica doesn’t see it as a priority. There will always be classes or tasks that aren’t a priority, but they still need to be completed and the sooner Jessica learns that, the better.” My chest was heaving, heart pounding as I continued to whale on the woman who was now scowling so viciously at me, her lips pressed tightly together and eyes narrowed. “Maybe she will find a passion for art in this work, probably she won’t. But I’m giving her the chance instead of telling her this isn’t worth her time and effort.”
I could barely breathe, my palms so sweaty as I tried to stare the women down, despite the extra height she had on me.
“If you thin–” she began, but was cut off immediately.
“Mrs. Hollis, it’s good to see you.” Ben smiled brightly, interrupting the woman before she could get anything out, his gaze stuck on her, one of his hands reaching out, touching her softly on the arm.
Her gaze immediately snapped to him, the icy demeanor melting at the sight of his handsome face. She blinked in rapid succession, like she was trying to figure out if she wanted to continue being angry at me or focus on Ben. My heart was in my throat, eyes glued to them both.
“Actually,” she said, relaxing a little into her posture, a hand tucking her hair behind her ear. “It’s Miss now. Miss Kennedy.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied, his head lowered in sympathy.
She smiled so brightly, I was half convinced our argument was long forgotten. “Well, apparently my ex-husband couldn’t keep it in his pants, so it’s his loss.”
Ben laughed slightly awkwardly at the overshare, and glanced over at me.
“I know you two were discussing something but is it okay if I steal Ms. Davis for a moment? I need her advice for the teams.”
Jessica’s mom nodded, totally mesmerized by the man in front of her. It took all my strength not to roll my eyes at her. Sure, he was cute, but this was verging on something else entirely.
He turned then, a friendly smile on his lips before he nodded his head, indicating for us to move away. I looked back at the parent, a scowl returning to her face. I should take the exit Ben had created for me before this parent could scream at me some more, but instead, I paused for a moment, lingering as I thought over everything she’d said.
Truly, I owed this woman nothing. She’d been rude and abrupt since the moment she had started this discussion, but even though I was exhausted, I tried to re-examine everything she had said.
“Tell Jessica to come past my classroom next week,” I said. “I can talk to her and figure out a timeline for the assignments that need to be completed so it doesn’t overwhelm her.”
I tried to reframe her in my head, not just an angry parent who didn’t value the effort I was using to teach her kid, but a concerned adult, who was trying to tell me her kid was going through a hard time, and she needed some allowances.
While she had been rude, I had been the one not listening and instead taking everything so personally like it was an attack.
The woman nodded, her back stiffening as a hand went to the shoulder strap of her handbag.
“Thank you,” she replied.
I only nodded in response, and turned away. Ben followed me, a hand pressed to the small of my back as if to guide me, keep me walking forward and not turn back.
“It looked like you needed a way out of that conversation,” he said, his voice a whisper on my neck.
“I was handling it just fine,” I murmured back, sparing him a look over my shoulder. Ben’s eyebrow was raised, his eyes firm on me as his gaze dragged across my face.
“I’m not so sure about that, Sunshine.”
I spun on my heels, facing him now. “Sunshine?”
“Well since you’ve spent all of today looking like you’ve had a storm cloud hanging over you, I thought you could do with some cheering up.” He smiled at me, the grin wide and perfect, except for the way his eyes didn’t crinkle the way I was all too familiar with.
I shook my head dismissively. “And calling me sunshine is supposed to do that?”
“You tell me, Sunshine.”
I decided to ignore the pounding of my heart, the way he had so easily unarmed me and even the situation before. He’d done it without me even knowing.
Shaking my head, I changed the subject. “Thanks for walking everyone through tomorrow.”
“It’s fine, piece of cake.” He waved his hand to dismiss me. To say he’d been carrying the load for the last few weeks of the preparation would be an understatement. He’d organized most of the groups, caught up with the students about their revision, and had done a stellar job preparing his Mathletes. Meanwhile, I’d just barely scraped through somehow. I knew I’d helped for sure, I’d provided materials and books to my art students and some Mathletes who wanted to help out, but the effort from Ben was unmatched, and he hadn’t once made me feel bad about it, hadn’t brought it up at all in fact.
“Now all we have to do is show up,” he added, looking away from me.
“And hope for the best.” My eyes were still on him, watching as his back stiffened and his smile slowly faded, his, lips pressed together in a thin line.
His voice was a mumble. “That too, Sunshine.”
I finally tore my gaze away from him, trying to work out what had caught his attention, just as a friendly face joined us, the crowd of chatting parents parting to let the district head through.
“Ms. Davis, Ben, it’s a good turnout for the competition,” Dane said, looking between us with a friendly smile on his face. He was rather casual for somebody so important to the district, his body always relaxed, his shirt buttoned up but tie slightly loose.
“All down to Ben’s work, he’s been relentless at reminding students to ask their parents to help out,” I said, looking away from the older man and over at Ben. I almost jumped back at the sight: his skin had gone at least two shades paler, something like a warning filling his gaze as he looked at the district head.
I’d only seen Dane a week ago, finally meeting him in a better capacity than when I’d been moments away from vomiting due to illness. Instead, I’d only been moments from vomiting due to nerves, the stress of sitting down opposite him, Rob, and two other school board officials that had been introduced to me but I had almost immediately forgotten. For about half an hour they’d covered everything I’d thought possible in an interview, going over everything from what I thought of the way the school was currently run, to improvements I’d be wanting to make, and how. They’d touched on the importance of budget cuts, and I’d managed to talk about my work as head of the department, using the stress of the last few years to my advantage. They’d looked pleased in the end, but who knows what had been said after I’d left the room.
“Well, it was clearly effective,” Dane smiled. “I’m sure you’re both very busy with preparations, but I was wondering if I could get a moment of your time?”
He looked back at me, smiling and indicating it was in fact me he wanted to talk to. The lurch in my stomach was violent. Had he seen me almost losing my shit at Jessica’s mom? Had she made a complaint, and I was about to be given a warning, by the district head no less?
I nodded, not sure what else to say. “Sure.”
Ben shifted from foot to foot, a hand on the back of his neck. He looked so uncomfortable, but I couldn’t place why. I knew he was nosy and put it down to that. He knew about the job, even if we’d never spoken about it before. He’d seen my application, and it was this unspoken thing that stood between us. What this job would mean for us, if there even was an us.
“Can you find me after?” Ben asked, his eyes burning into me. For a moment, I wanted to reach out to him, touch his arm and tell him I was okay. He looked so nervous and uncertain–had I ever seen him like this?
I nodded, watching him slowly turn away and make his way over to the crowd of remaining parents who were helping tidy up the hall after the meeting.
With a cough to clear his throat, Dane spoke. “I know you must be very busy, but I wanted to connect with you after the interview last week,” he started, the neutral look on his face giving no hints. “We were all very impressed with your history, especially with the school, and how you’ve managed with the budget cuts and how you’ve run your department following that. Not to mention the feedback from Rob was outstanding, and made it clear you are an asset to the teaching staff.”
“Thank you.” My words were so small I could barely hear them, a buzzing noise growing louder and louder in my ear as the nerves built.
“It was great to have the opportunity to sit down with you. I’ve always understood art to be an important part of the curriculum. I myself do some amateur acting on the side,” he said proudly. “I think it’s great to see you’ve grown such an involved group to be able to do a competition like this.” He paused for a moment, and the expression on his face cracked from its neutral professionalism, replaced with a look of pity and sympathy.
And I knew what the ‘but’ was before he had even said it.
“However, I felt like I should let you know we’ve decided to go in a different direction. Some of the panel members would prefer somebody with a STEM background to reflect the importance of these subjects to the school.”
Rob had warned me, he’d told me that was their preference. No matter the experience or expertise I could bring to the role, this would be the thing the job would hinge on. And I’d ignored him, told myself there was a chance, let myself believe I could play on a level playing field.
I’d been a fool.
“I understand.” My voice was strange to my own ears, the tone controlled and showing no indication of the disappointment growing inside. “I knew it was a long shot.”
“I’m only sorry I couldn’t convince the other members. I remember how much of an asset your mother had been when she worked in our schools, and I have every bit of faith you are as excellent as her given your record,” he said, trying to comfort me but he didn’t know me, didn’t know her, didn’t know I was barely an inch on her shadow.
I took his hand, giving it an appreciative and professional shake before thanking him again for the opportunity, telling him I understood. Then I excused myself, with one need, one thought.
Find Ben.
Somehow, he’d know what to do, what to say, would ground me and keep me from falling to pieces.
I looked around the room, like I’d promised I’d do, eyes glancing over the thinning crowd, the chairs now put away for the evening, before I finally found him. He stood in a corner, head lowered and smiling brightly. He was mid-laugh, the sound almost infectious if it wasn’t for who stood opposite him. Jenna, Jessica’s mom from before, her eyes also on him, a hand on her hip and an unmistakably flirty smile on her lips. I watched as he said something back, and she raised a hand, placing it on his arm and pushing him playfully.
And he smiled back. And maybe it was just friendly, but it did nothing to stop my already shattered confidence from cracking further. I felt close to combusting. And not at the flirting, not at her leaning in and touching him again, this time over his gray shirt. Because he had never been mine, that hadn’t been the agreement. But that smile, it had felt like mine. I’d fooled myself into thinking it was mine. I’d let myself believe it was just for me.
He’d said it himself, I was a rain cloud–sad and depressing. His smile was carefree and light and everything I wasn’t. He deserved somebody who really was sunshine, who could return those smiles and feel that warmth. And knowing that wasn’t me was the thing that really pushed me over the edge and caused me to snap like a twig bent a degree too far.
With my fists balled up, fingernails pressing into my palms, I turned on my heels, swiftly leaving Ben and Jenna alone.
It was too much, all of it was entirely too much. The job, the competition, Mom, Ben. When did everything end up getting so complicated and tangled? It felt like I was being pulled apart, taking more of my energy than I was able to give, more than I had. And now I was exhausted and broken and falling apart.
I pressed against the cold brick of the hallway, sinking down to the floor. I needed to rest, needed to sleep for about a month and think about nothing at all. How long had it been since I’d had a proper sleep?
Flashes of Ben’s bare skin came to memory, his fresh navy sheets, the room cool but under the covers was the perfect temperature. Had that really been it?
“What are you doing out here?” Ben stood in the doorway to the room I’d just exited, but I hadn’t even heard the door open. That little crinkle in his brow appeared as he narrowed his eyes at me. “You said you’d find me after.”
At the sight of him, I swear my heart snagged a beat. The urge to go to him, to have him wrap his arms around me and squeeze tight and just breathe him in was almost more overwhelming than the track of doubt and disappointment my head couldn’t press mute on.
I tried to stuff the feelings back down, tried to ignore the shaking in my hands. “You were busy.”
His head tilted in question, the dim light of the hallway still highlighting a facial structure only angels could have carved. If he was going to ask a question, he seemed to let it go, and instead said, “We are almost done here, then we’ll be officially off the clock.”
I forced a pitiful smile. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
As much as I craved the comfort he could offer me, I knew it would only leave me more confused and lost and lonely when it disappeared again. Knew it would only leave me trapped and hungry for more of him than I could possibly cope with. I needed to be alone.
He nodded, but didn’t move, his gaze softening on me. I thought back to the last time he’d found me like this, sitting on the ground. That was the night everything had changed.
Somehow, he’d known I was in trouble then, and had found me.
Somehow, he’d been exactly what I needed.
Somehow, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him ever since.
“Is there something wrong?” He stepped out of the doorway, the door closing behind him as he leaned against the wall, his gaze not moving from me.
Ignoring the obvious answer, I lied, nodding my head. “I’m fine, I just needed air.”
For a moment, neither of us said anything, an uneasy silence falling between us. I watched as he lifted his hand to the back of his neck and began to rub uneasily. His throat bobbed as he did, and it dawned on me I’d never seen him looking so nervous, so unsure.
“Did… did Dane say something?” The way his voice wobbled, the stutter and the unfamiliar name took me a moment to process. “I mean… what did he want to talk to you about?”
I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Maybe I can help?” he offered, stepping away from the wall so he was no longer leaning against it.
“This isn’t something you can fix, Ben.”
“Try me.”
And from the way he said it, I truly believed he wanted to help. That he thought he could solve this for me, and put it right. Somehow, that hurt more, because there wasn’t anything he could do. There wasn’t any convincing anyone I was well suited to the job, it didn’t matter.
I didn’t teach STEM. They’d simply decided I wasn’t enough.
Maybe I wasn’t.
“I don’t know what there is to say,” I snipped, irritation itching under my skin. “I didn’t get the job. I never had a shot and now it’s clear for you to swoop in and get in.”
“The vice principal’s job?” he asked, his voice calm, his features remaining the same.
Somehow, that irritated me more.
“Is there another job I should be aware of?”
“Olive, I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s your gain if I’m out of the running.” I pushed myself up, legs shaking slightly under my weight. I needed space from him, some distance to keep my head straight. I knew I shouldn’t be snipping at him; none of this was his fault, even if he was my competition and the role was his for the taking.
“I can still be sorry. You would’ve been excellent for the school in that role.” He stayed where he was, the sad smile that was supposed to be reassuring still on his lips.
“Oh really? No joke about how now there’s no one to stop you completely cutting the funding to the art department now?” I kept digging and digging, waiting for him to snap, trying to get him to react in a way that didn’t make me feel like the worst.
“I was only ever joking about that,” he said earnestly. “I promise, I won’t do that. And besides, just because you don’t have the job, doesn’t mean I do. There are other applicants.”
I shook my head at him, pressing my hands against my face.
“Olive, please look at me.”
He stepped closer, but I kept pacing, feeling more and more like a trapped animal.
This wasn’t his fault. I knew that. But it was so easy to blame him, to let this rage out his way because he was everything I wasn’t. He deserved this and I did not and that made me so angry I wanted to scream.
“Don’t shut down, talk to me.” His voice was a plea, an echo that cut through the noise that was filling my mind.
I finally looked at him then, and I didn’t even have a chance to think before the words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Just go back to trying to fuck the moms, Ben. At least they want you around.”
And fuck, if I didn’t regret the words immediately. The look on his face was enough to take that hairline crack in my heart and turn it into a full open fissure. But the words were out, and I had no intention of taking them back. They’d finally done what I needed them to do.
The empty, silent space between us had never felt so wide. He said nothing, a painful silence I was supposed to break with an apology lingering around us, but when it became clear I wasn’t going to say another word, wasn’t going to immediately take it back, his spine stiffened, and the empty look on his face turned stony.
He turned away from me, his echoing footsteps the only noise in the hall before he opened the door. Ben paused, not even looking over his shoulder at me as he spoke, his voice brittle.
“You can go. I’ll finish up here.”
And then he disappeared into the hall, door closing behind him as he finally left me alone.
Alone, with only my breaking, ruined heart.