Chapter 4

She was becoming my martyr.

I laughed with my lips closed, I didn't care about Mr. Clark, what I wanted was not to attract attention and I doubt, from my life experience, that that man did anything but give me a pen.

"Everyone take your places, you're not in pre-school anymore." Jess measured my body laughing and sat down in front of me, soon my blond hair became a mat on my desk.

I had a pair of scissors in my bag, but I'm not sure the stress would be worth it.

"Pass the roll call and open the book to page ten." At least my book was still in my bag, as my notebook had become a hair pillow.

The lesson lasted about an hour and a half, that's all the time we had to extract as much as we could, and all the while, I desired to pull out strand after strand of those blonde strands.

Mr. Clark began his explanation and I tried not to let myself be carried away by the content, I needed stimuli not to commit hair murder and even more so not to be arrested. So I focused on him, trying to assimilate and absorb the knowledge he was imparting so openly.

It wasn't uncommon for teachers to walk around the class in the middle of an explanation, and I understood that it was a way of being close to everyone and not losing enthusiasm. I liked that, observing and absorbing.

Jess moved with his steps, which made his hair sweep across my desk. My patience was about to run out, so I loosened the bun I was keeping up because of the hospital and because of the red hair that seemed to have been created to be dried out, massaged my temples, and sighed, maybe I was going to be a patient in the psychiatric ward today.

Mr. Clark didn't stop his explanation, he continued to walk down the corridors slowly. I was no longer looking at him when he stopped between me and Jess, a few more steps from him, and a few strands of my hair were touched. Maybe I was bothering the student behind me, but looking at Jess I knew that wasn't exactly what had happened.

My hair was a little shorter than hers, but the curl was to blame. The waves of my hair went down to my ribs and now those same waves were wrapped around Mr. Clark's fingers.

Jess was going to kill me at the end of the lesson and I'd thank her if she did. The teacher continued his lesson a little further behind me and played insistently with the lock of hair that was between his fingers. For some impertinent reason, I looked directly at him, a serious beginner's mistake.

I saw now what Jess and his snakes saw, for obvious reasons, Mr. Clark was a tall guy and should be spending his Friday nights with some beautiful woman eating cheeses and drinking great wine. His handsome face looked more than forty-five from a distance, maybe not more than thirty-two. The unshaven face and short hair just so he wouldn't have to worry, the face of someone who would take her panties off with a sigh.

"Education, that's what everyone preached and it should be much more than a rule. It should be an obligation." I swallowed as he finished saying it and bent down close to Jess's ear. "Politeness, Miss Wilson, I'll ask for the last time, or I'll put you in the last desk so you can sweep the wall."

I held in my laughter, but the class didn't. Jess pulled her hair out of my desk and straightened it just to one side of her shoulder, apparently just to show part of her neck for the teacher's eyes.

"Forgive me, Mr. Clark..."

Mr. Clark straightened up and squeezed my shoulder before ignoring Jess and heading back to his desk. My day had finally taken on meaning.

He continued part way through his explanation and I smiled internally as I looked at the hair in front of me, the nest of snakes had been collected for the moment and I finally had some peace.

The lesson was over and so was my happiness. I packed my things and left before they threw corn to the chickens, at least I thought I had succeeded. The buzz and laughter started low behind me before I reached the elevator, so they got in too.

My glow went away when I remembered that I should have put my hair up again, as it had been the target of Jess's long fingers the whole time until the doors signaled that they were closing.

"You should be careful, Sarah, and finding out where you belong is a start."

The door narrowly closed thanks to Mr. Clark's hasty hand. Now my grave was made.

Jesse kept pulling at that lock of hair like she was in the fifth grade, it was as if she had forgotten that she was now a grown woman. I sighed a few seconds before punching her smiling face.

"Importunation is a crime, Miss Wilson."

She coughed and laughed before stepping forward.

"We're only joking, aren't we, Sarah?"

I snorted, preschool would be the ideal place for her.

The elevator finally opened and he closed the door on them and stretched out his hand to me, giving me way before they bothered me again.

"Miss Taylor..." I swallowed my saliva with such difficulty that it took a while for my brain to detect the information and make me walk.

"Thank you, Mr. Clark." I stammered and left, receiving a nod with an almost sweet smile.

I wasn't prepared for what was coming next, especially if it depended on Jess and my academic life. I ran out of the building, trying to get as far away as I could from Mr. Clark's accusing eyes and mild debauchery.

And I'd forgotten to return the damn pen.

"Would you like to eat the hospital's toxic waste too? Look, I don't object." Mike pulled the pen out of my hand, I must have been biting into it for hours. "It would take the weight off worrying about illegal disposal."

"Don't make me answer the way I want to."

He smiled and sat down next to me.

"And you should be home, what's your problem?"

I thought for a few seconds. I had a little special attention from Mr. Clark, it seemed. Also a death oath from Jess's brown eyes and a job where my supervisor wouldn't let me work, what problem would I tell him?

"No big deal, I won't clock in, just let me occupy my mind," I mumbled tiredly.

Mike was a nice guy, thirty-two years old if I'm not mistaken, and with a charming smile.

"Come on, you need to drink and I need to rest my mind."

I didn't have to work and because of my college, it was past my bedtime. But I needed to walk the path of alcoholism and be as irresponsible as a door, my mother would love to know that.

"No good night Cinderella." I mocked and he snorted, making an unhappy face.

"Shit. Would Rohypnol be better? I was thinking about Frontal, but I wanted you awake, unconscious women aren't my thing. I'm terrified of dolls."

"You need to get treatment, Mike."

He laughed and we walked to the other side of the street, where there were a few bars. I wasn't fussy and being able to forget my troubled day by dipping my head into a barrel of beer was good enough.

The bar was as simple as a pub, but the beer was good and Mike wasn't bad company, at least outside the hospital. I'd drunk with him a few times and had more fun than I thought possible, at least it was easy with him.

"Ivy will be in your place tomorrow, I'm officially grounding you." I knitted my eyebrows together listening to that nonsense as we sat on the bar stool. "We can be notified, Sarah, you've been working too much and you've already exceeded your allowed working hours for the month."

The barman filled my mug and I almost tipped it over in one go.

"You wouldn't do that to me." I sighed in annoyance, missing work would be tragic for my troubled mind.

Mike shrugged, it was no joke.

"I need a real job." I finally said and finished my drink. "Overtime is just killing me and it doesn't pay as well as I need it to."

Mike turned over his shot of whisky and slammed the glass down on the table.

"Don't you dare leave me alone in that hospital, I don't have the brains to put up with all that shit without your help."

"Hiring me as a cleaner would help my financial life and deprive me of getting out of that madhouse." If he could do that, it would be my salvation.

My glass was refilled and Mike ordered me a shot, it was going to be a long night.

"Are you trying to get me drunk Michael?" I laughed, pouring the whisky down my throat and feeling it burn my soul, he shrugged and laughed. "Good, because I need it."

The heat of the alcohol began to warm my body, it was good, familiar, and felt even better after I had ripped the jacket off my back. Free, I adjusted the straps of my tank top and loosened that damn bun. My head was throbbing from the force I'd used to tie it, thanks, of course, to Jess's pestering.

"You should be banned, Sarah." Mike took another swig, staring at the bottles on the shelf.