Homework

Elona’s POV

I couldn’t get that look out of my head from Mr. Crane. That stare was now ingrained in my mind. One that made my heartbeat fast, that made me feel more for him, increasing my crush on him. It was bad and I know it is because I am young, and I am best friends with his daughter. I know for sure that he feels nothing for me, but that stare was giving me different vibes.

I am staying over for dinner, and it would be just the three of us. Maybe I should just go back home after we are done with our homework. Crislynn and I are seated in the lounge, with our English books open. Crislynn and I were seated on the rug that was on the floor. The coffee table was emptied of anything that was on it. So that we could do our homework here. It is always the lounge, kitchen, Crislynn’s bedroom, her dad’s study room or at my house, where we do homework. She was great at creative writing, so things flowed easily in her mind. But I wasn’t creative to that extent. I loved being more practical.

I stared at my blank page, tapping the pen against it. I had no clue what to write about. The instructions were to write a short story of one thousand words. I didn’t want it to feel forced. I looked up at Crislynn who was writing away. I let out a heavy sigh and then I looked down at my blank page again.

The only topic to write about is Mr. Crane. No one will know, because I can leave his name out. Not even Crislynn would know. This essay is to help with our grades…and then I start to write about him. As I wrote my emotions down on the page, Crislynn was done before me. “I’m done. I wrote about my mother,” she said as I looked up at her with sympathy. She was very close to Estelle. She had a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Writing helps at times,” I told her, and then her eyes glazed over.

“Yeah, it’s just the first time that I have written about her. Even though I say that I am okay, I keep those feelings inside, and I don’t even tell my father because I know he misses her, and he still grieves her even after three years. Who am I to tell him to date? It is wrong and I will not force him into moving on so fast. He should take his time,” she said as she now wiped the lone tear away that ran down her cheek.

“That is why my father hasn’t dated in years, because everyone doesn’t move on the same. It may take longer for others. Both of our fathers loved and lost their soulmates. I hope one day that we both have that kind of love that they shared with them. A love that is true. It will be okay, but you won’t forget her, and neither will he,” I said.

“Hopefully we can move on from the pain” she smiled. “Anyway, I need to order some pizza,” she stood up and she went to the kitchen.

I leaned back against the edge of the sofa, my legs crossed as I still held my pen in my hand. “What is the essay about?” My heart leaped in my chest as I jumped, and I looked to my side as Mr. Crane walked around the sofa that was behind me. He looked at me, his waist coat and jacket were removed, leaving him in a white shirt with the top unbuttoned. His shirt was tucked inside of his black dress pants.

He looked at me again with those forest green eyes. “Um…we are writing an essay, and the topic can be about anything. It gets added to our grades,” I replied, trying to be nonchalant.

He now stood close to me, but as I looked up, my gaze was on his crotch. The bulge was big but then I looked away at my essay. “So, what topic did you choose?” he asked.

“I chose to write a little story.”

“What is it about?” he asked.

“It is about a girl falling in love with someone and how she hopes to be with him someday,” I looked at him, well past his bugle this time. He was already looking at me with a smirk. I don’t know what it could mean.

“Keep up the good work and then you can succeed at anything,” he said, and then he walked around the coffee table. He stood in front of me. I looked at him as his arms were folded over his chest and I looked at what he was staring at.

He was reading Crislynn’s essay. My heartbeat slowed down this time because this was a sensitive topic…his deceased wife. I looked up at him and he read it. I could see how his facial expression changed. There was pain etched on his face. My heart broke for him and my best friend. His wife died in a tragic car accident. It was a stormy night. She lost control on the slippery road, she crashed into an oncoming car and when Mr. Crane got to the scene, she was still alive, but she was bleeding to death. She died.

He was devastated at her funeral and everything about it was heartbreaking because this family was built with so much love. I can understand why Mr. Crane doesn’t want to date. She was the love of his life. I never saw them for three months thereafter, but Crislynn and I would always communicate via text. I wanted to give them the space that they needed to grieve. She would always text me just to tell me that she would hear him sob at night and that made her sad and she didn’t know what to do.

As time went on, things became better but not to the extent of fully healing to move on. As I continue to look at Mr. Crane, reading Crislynn’s essay. I could see the devastation becoming evident on his face. A mask that is slipping off, forgetting that I am here.

“I called the pizza place, I am starving,” Mr. Crane pulled his attention away from the essay as he stepped to the side, looking at his daughter. He tried to compose himself and to make sure that the mask was back on. He looked at me as Crislynn packed up her things, his pain still etched a bit on his face. He knew that I saw his mask slip away and then he walked into the kitchen without another word.