But I was living on an island. It was the second kick in the gut of cancer, the way it isolated you from your loved ones, made you feel like no one could understand you and that no one wanted to, really, because you’d turned into some kind of hope-devouring monster, infected with nightmares and frighteningly contagious.
There was no one who could understand that.
No one, I’d thought, except for my own guardian monster.
The bell signaling the end of sixth period rang out, shattering my depressing reverie. Reece immediately threw his arm around my shoulders and ducked close to me, his eyes on mine as he whispered, “I’m here, Louise. You may not see that and damn, you might not even want it, sometimes I can’t tell. But you do want me, I’m here.”
I nodded mutely, guilty and stricken by how on target he was. He searched my eyes for a long moment more before he nodded then moved away to join the crowd of students funneling out the door.
“Louise,” Mr. Warren called out to me as I swung my messenger bag over my shoulder and made to follow after Reece. “Stay a minute.”
I nodded then waited for the last few students to leave so I could close the door behind them. Mr. Warren didn’t like to speak with the door open.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Warren?” I asked in my practiced, saccharine voice.
My biology teacher wasn’t my favourite teacher; that spot had been taken by Miss Irons, my former IB English and History teacher who had since quit amid a flurry of gossip about her banging a student. I didn’t believe the rumors and anyone who knew Miss Irons wouldn’t have either. She was the soul of discretion, a mild-mannered woman with a smile that made you feel like an angel was grinning down on you. She was the only person I’d told last year when I’d first been diagnosed and I missed our infrequent tea dates in her bookish classroom.
So, no, Mr. Warren wasn’t my favourite teacher.
But I was his favourite student.
He was beaming his beautiful smile at me as he came around his desk to lean against the front and hook his thumbs in the pockets of his bright blue dress pants. He was a pretty guy, the kind of immaculately groomed man that offended my sensibility because wasn’t a man supposed to be, well, manly?
“How’s my favourite student doing?” he asked.
I perched my butt on the end of a desk in the first row across from him and shrugged. “Good, excited for Winter Hoops.”
I wasn’t excited.
Being a cheerleader was something the women in the Lafayette family had been since Entrance Bay Academy was founded so I didn’t really have a choice in the matter.
School colours and pom-poms were so not my gig.
“Of course, the highlight of the fall semester.” He nodded. “Well, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to ask if you’d be interested in being my teacher’s assistant this year. I know it’s a few weeks into term, but I like to take my time with these decisions and make sure I find the right pupil for the job.”
I blinked into his car salesman smile but the well-trained part of my brain was already saying, “Of course. Thank you for considering me.”
I didn’t have time to be his teacher’s assistant. I was training in the dance studio four times a week while my body could still stand to do such rigorous activity, I spent at least a few hours each week with my Autism mentee, Sammy, and I was in the full International Baccalaureate program at school, which was the equivalent of taking university-level courses.
And that was just as Louise.
As Loulou, I had an equally packed schedule and now the Zeus problem to figure out and spend additional hours each week stewing over.
But Mr. Warren was my dad’s best friend.
And what Benjamin Lafayette wanted, he got.
So I didn’t bother to refuse him because it was obvious that the two of them had already talked about it, decided on it and this was just a formality.
“Great.” He grinned and stepped forward to grasp me in a quick hug. “I’m so glad to have such a capable young woman on my team. I’ll need you every Wednesday after school for two hours. You can work in here with me.”
“Cool.”
His smile softened slightly and made me realize that he stood a little too close after giving me that awkward hug. I flinched slightly when his hand came up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Glad to see you aren’t losing your hair,” he murmured.
“Me too,” I said, somewhat harshly because I didn’t like having him in my space.
“Looking forward to spending time with you, Louise. It was nice to see you so much this past summer,” he said, referencing the countless times I’d been forced to attend church functions, charity picnics and political events with my parents. “You’ve grown into a very beautiful and intelligent young woman.”