Lure Page 2

  “Thanks,” I murmur giving him my best slow shaky smile. Let’s see if he drools over it or not. All my notions bite the byroad’s dust when he crumples his thick eyebrows on his broad forehead and glowers.

  “Where’s the restaurant you talked about?”

  “Did I?” I pose like an innocent toddler who’s just been denied his second candy of the day.

  “What the f….” His words trail as he releases the handbrake.

  “The best restaurant in town lies where you’ve just come from, twelve miles back.” With that, I giggle before tossing my head back and turning around.

  How easily I made a fool out of him. This is going to be the prank of the week. Applauding myself, I turn back and when his penetrating blue eyes pin me from a feet’s distance, I feel my heart hammer hard against my chest. All laugh is gone. Suddenly, I feel guilty still trying to figure the effect of those baby blues on my thumping heart.

  I’m definitely going to see him again. My steps falter as I walk backward. My eyes are on the vehicle as its engine roars and the rear tiers billow dust in the air. Next moment, the old truck is on the road, driving ahead or probably driving back if the hunk at the wheel still dares to believe in my words.

  Crazy bitch me.

  The next few minutes are spent doing quick hellos with Joshua, Ben, Candice and Katy, before we all march inside Trisha’s salon.

  Once inside, we head to our respective booths for our weekly grooming. While boys limit themselves to just haircuts, beard trimming and face massages, girls have a long list of manicure, pedicure, massages, oil therapies, waxing, threading. And although I love hanging out with my group of friends on weekends, today it all feels a little monotonous. I don’t exactly want to be here.

  Then where do I want to be? Do I want to accompany Caroline and her overly possessive father on their ride back uptown? Nah. Never. I can’t tolerate the grumpy old man, old because now I know he’s a father of a girl who’s almost my age. No matter how much appeal and attitude he oozes, I’m going to push him out of my head. His daughter is cute, and I would love to make friends with an innocent sugar cube like her. If at all I get to meet her again.

  For now, I should forget everything and enjoy the face massage.

  Chapter Three

  William

  “Carrie, come on darling.” I place the hot steaming plate of scrambled eggs and a warm glass of milk on the kitchen island.

  It was one hell of a day yesterday. First, we got hit by a prankster. Then we drove all across the uptown just to find a decent place to dine in or at least get the food packed. But what to do when the day itself started on a bad note. Had we not met that crazy prank lady, we would have returned home on time, slept on time and risen early.

  Like her mother, Caroline is not a morning person at all. And if she has slept late, then it’s really hard for her to rise early in the morning. But I have to wake her up because I’m already running late for the morning classes. Besides, I don’t want my daughter to get late on her first day at Westlake High.

  “Carrie. Where are you? Come on, sweetie.” Reaching the staircase, I call out again.

  “I’m here, Daddy.”

  How can I forget. My daughter never gets late on her first day to school, to any school. She’s been to four high schools in the past two years. And all her first days are memorable ones as she always clicks a selfie with me and never gets late on her first day.

  Right now also, she’s dressed up decent in her denim jeans and a fleece pullover. With her smartphone clutched in one hand, the thumb of the other hand snuggled under the strap of the backpack on her shoulder, she descends the stairs.

  “Let’s have a selfie ritual, Dad. After all, this is my fifth high school in the past two years.” Reaching out to me, she raises her phone in the air and poses for the photograph.

  I don’t know if it’s one of Carrie’s sarcastic pun or she is deliberately trying to make me learn that it’s the fifth time she has changed her school in the past two years.

  Hell. I don’t want you to hop schools, sweetheart, it’s just I can’t see you getting upset and sad about something which neither you nor I have any control over. I don’t want us becoming an easy prey for gossip-mongers. Don’t want us to be a part of some filthy conversation where people don’t hesitate to drag someone’s life on the coffee table and shredding it to pieces with their nasty remarks and judgmental opinions.

  Our life is ours. It’s a private matter. I don’t want anyone to discuss or even talk about it nor do I want someone’s fake or even real sympathy over this matter.

  If Stella left us, it’s her choice. It’s no one’s place to accuse either us or Stella for any misgivings. I don’t have any qualms with my life. I’m happy with my share in it. I’m happy seeing my daughter grow and transform from a geeky teenager into a young high-spirited woman day by day. If only I could get her some true friends. Each time she changes school, she has to make new ones. I hope Westlake High embraces my daughter with open arms. I hope she makes some true friends there. Friends who always remain by her side no matter where she goes and what path she chooses in her life.

  Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize when Carrie finishes her breakfast. She places the silverware on the plate and smiles. “It’s my day to feel panicky, Dad. After all, Westlake High is not just any high school. I’ve heard a lot about newcomers getting bullied and assaulted there.”

  “Oh, you don’t worry about that at all. The Princi is my old schoolmate. I’ve talked to her about that.”

  “Fuck… You talked to the Principal about me? Stop babying me, Dad.” She frowns, stomping her feet as she marches to the door. Okay, she’s angry but the language she’s just used is totally unacceptable in this house.

  “Language, dear. You’re still too young to swear.”

  I hear her mumble the F word once again as she makes her way out of the door and wait for me in the porch.

  Fuck. I don’t want to ruin her first day. Let’s make it up by bringing a smile on her face. And I know what makes my daughter smile.

  “There’s a new Avengers movie streaming on Netflix. Would you like to watch it with me?”

  “Endgame,” she squeals.

  “If that’s what its name is.” I pretend to sound ignorant, hopping onto the driver’s seat and buckling the seatbelt.

  “Yes.” Climbing onto the passenger’s seat, she follows the ritual of securing the seatbelt across her torso. A wide grin decorates her face as she glances at me.

  “Saturday. Would that be fine?”

  “Perfect. Thank you, Dad. It would be fun watching the movie with you.”

  “Anytime, sugar.” Keeping her smiling face in the periphery of my vision, I drive the car out of the gravel driveway. Mission accomplished!

  Westlake High is only a few blocks away. I could have let Carrie go alone. Instead, I prefer dropping her because I still feel protective about her.

  She is going to be eighteen in a few months. She can choose her path, explore new things, learn more about life. I do so want all this to happen. But even after knowing that my constant shadow will hamper my daughter’s learning process of getting face to face with real life, I couldn’t keep myself away from her. If that sounds like an overprotective, possessive Dad, I’m one.

  I think I should let her go out alone. If not all the time at least for a few days in a week. Probably, on weekends. Let’s see if she makes some good friends at Westlake and I would be happy to send her out in the company of disciplined, well-mannered, well-behaved folks.

  Chapter Four

  Blake

  The moment I see the white vintage pickup truck halt in front of the school gate, Caroline and her father’s faces flash in my mind’s eye. My heart races with a single thought of seeing them again in the past 24 hours. Throwing my over-chewed gum in the bin, I march to the gate.

  Yes. They are here. The cute and sweet and adorable father-daughter duo is here. My, my. Today, he’s looking eve
n hotter in his semi-casuals. White crisp button-down and blue denim jeans hug his perfect body. I bet he’s a fitness freak. Does he work in a gym as an instructor or is he a farm guy?

  After studying the specimen of manly perfection, though several years older than me, my eyes drift to the chubby face.

  Like yesterday, today also Caroline looks cute in her casuals. She waves at her dad before turning around and walking in through the giant metal gate of Westlake.

  From my vantage point, I can see the expression carving her father’s face. Eyes narrow, eyebrows arched. It seems he’s worried about leaving his sweet little daughter alone for the entire day as though this is a lion’s den. Isn’t he a little too possessive about her?

  I literally feel my lips curving into a smile. Next, I look over my shoulder. All my friends are busy chitchatting, discussing homeworks and assignments and yes the horrific tyranny of dating. Who dumped whom, who has got a new GF or BF, who’s still not over their exes and who needs a shoulder to cry on.

  I glance at my friends and when Katy looks at me and nods, it’s like they all are giving me approval to carry on with whatever I have in my mind. And right now, I’m planning to go and meet Caroline. Yes, only the daughter. I can still go and catch her father and say hi to him because he’s still standing next to his old hooptie, looking at his daughter until she enters the gate and heads to the main building, but I prefer not going after him. At least, not now. Maybe later.

  “Hey.” Rushing to Caroline, I huff.

  “Hey. You here?” Her blue eyes crinkle at the corners. I can say she’s happily surprised seeing me at Westlake.

  “Yup and you?”

  “Senior year.”

  “Hey. Me too.” I raise a hand which she high fives.

  “So, how come you’re at Westlake.” We talk walking to the main building of the school.

  “I know it’s foolish to change schools when you’re in your senior year. I mean I’m going to be here for just a year.”

  I don’t speak anything, trying to figure the expression of sadness and glum covering her otherwise pretty and fresh face.

  After a brief pause, she speaks again as we kill the distance to the Biology classroom. “We change places like nomads, and when you move, you have to change your school because commute is a big problem these days.”

  I don’t know why they change houses and why suddenly she becomes sad but the one thing I’m sure of is that she has been through some real tough times in the past. It’s hard to overcome your painful past. And who knows this better than me?

  “Let’s get to the class. We can talk once we are there. Miss Maurice is one stern teacher who doesn’t allow you to enter if you’re late even by a minute. Let’s make it there before she arrives.”

  “Does she? I don’t want to miss my first class. Let’s hurry.” She adjusts her backpack on her shoulder before grabbing my hand. The two of us then walk or rather run to the Biology room.

  Once inside, we occupy seats next to each other. She takes out her book and starts flipping the pages. Perhaps, she wants to revise the earlier chapter. This makes me believe that Caroline is a studious student.

  Within a minute or two of reaching the classroom, Miss Maurice arrives and begins drawing the cell structures on the whiteboard. First, she draws mitochondria, then chlorophyll, and then the nucleus.

  Shit. She’s going to cover all this today. I can’t believe her, but then she’s Miss Maurice. The only teacher at Westlake who is infamous for completing the entire senior year Biology course in mere three months. Once she’s done with theories and practice at school, she takes her students on study trips and short-term academic programs in other schools and universities. Let’s see what trips and programs she has planned for us this year.

  ***

  Unlike other days, today, I attend all the classes. Okay, not all, but the ones which I have with Caroline.

  We are together even during the recess time. She is eager to meet my friends, and I don’t disappoint her. I take her to our favorite hangout joint, the school’s canteen.

  The moment we enter the canteen all kinds of food smells assault my nose. I would rather eat an apple, I think, looking at the food counters with long ques of students waiting to grab their food trays.

  “Hey, guys, here’s Caroline…” Reaching the table at the extreme end of the crowded canteen, I speak, but let my words trail as I still don’t know her full name.

  “Caroline Stella Wild.” She completes my sentence.

  “Hi, Caroline Stella Wild.” Ben smirks pulling the back of his baseball cap.

  “You can call me Caroline.”

  “How about Carrie. Nice’n’short,” Candice chirps, shifting a bit in her wooden chair, munching on the carrot.

  “Carrie is reserved for my dad.”

  “Oh! Wow! You still stay with your family.” Katy jolts in her chair, eyes wide open. Her jaw drops down.

  “With my dad only.”

  “I see.” Candice lets out a sigh.

  Pulling a chair and sliding into it, I dump my backpack next on my chair. Caroline also does the same. Then, I take out the lonely apple from my backpack, wipe it with the palm of my hand and offer it to Caroline.

  “Hey, thanks, but I would prefer some fries and burger if you don’t mind.” She smiles.

  The way she speaks and behaves feels as if she belongs to some ancient era when people used to be extra polite and courteous to each other.

  “Oh. Sure. You don’t need my nod before deciding what you want to eat. Go ahead. Grab whatever takes your fancy.” I smile and she reflects my smile before rising, tucking the chair under the table, and joining the endless stream of students waiting for their turn at the food counter.

  A few minutes later, she arrives with a food tray in her hands. She places the tray with a wrapped burger, a big-sized fries’ bag, and several sachets of tomato ketchup.

  I wonder if her dad allows all this fast food. Maybe not, that’s why the school canteen seems the best place to satiate those cravings. She pulls the chair and slides into it. I smile as she stuffs her mouth with a big piece of burger and then attacks the fries. It’s fun watching her eat.

  While all others are busy with munching and eating, I look around for Joshua but he’s not around. Perhaps, he’s gone to his soccer match.

  After we are done with our lunches, all of us head to our respective classes. I don’t have any more classes with Caroline. So, I bid her goodbye. I have the optional class of humanities today which I’m going to miss. Not that I can afford bunking classes after dropping out of school for two long years and then again getting back to it. It often goes hand in hand with the odd jobs I do to keep up with my expenses. Be it a job of babysitting or filling up for one of my colleagues at the pizzeria where I work in the evening or at a bookstore where I work on weekends, I kind of love them all. Because they help me with easy money. Okay, it’s not that easy but at least it lets me study and work both.

  Today also, I have to babysit a toddler. His parents are going to attend the early afternoon funeral of his grandmother and I’ll be spending my afternoon and a small part of my evening with a soft bundle of cuteness. I love babies and that’s also the reason I love looking after them when their parents are away. Besides, it gives me some spare dollars. At nineteen, I can’t afford to sit around and do nothing.

  After waving goodbye to Caroline, I glance at my wristwatch. It’s still time, but if I start now, it would be easier to get the bus on time. Wilkinson Ave is not too far from here. Still, it would take half an hour to reach there.

  Chapter Five

  William

  “So how was your first day?” I ask as Carrie adjusts the seatbelt across her torso.

  “It’s good. I like it here.” She smiles, gazing out the window.

  “Did you make any friends?” I ask again, glancing at her from the corner of my eye while keeping my gaze fixed on the road in front of us.

  I’ve decided to come h
ome early because I wanted to pick Carrie up. After all, today was her first day at school, and I didn’t want my daughter to get lost on her way back home. A few rides will make her familiar with the route and she can come back home on her own.

  Once we are almost near the house, I glance at her. She hasn’t yet answered my question. I’m not concerned about whether she has made any friends at Westlake or not. What I’m concerned about is my daughter getting distanced from me day by day.

  I know she’s at a stage in her life when she needs a true friend with whom she can share things. No matter how hard I try she never considers me her friend, let alone telling me anything about her life. Looks like I’ve failed as a Dad. I don’t miss Stella at all but what I miss is the bond Carrie shared with her mother. Even though Stella wasn’t a very motherly figure, she was her mother and one who knew her child and understood her kid’s heart and mind. I can forgive Stella for what she’s done to me, but I can’t forgive a woman who played with my daughter’s heart. She left her when Carrie needed her the most. Not only that, she made it clear that she didn’t want to come back ever. She also didn’t want to visit Carrie. She hated the mediocre life I offered to her. She wanted money and lots of it. When her father ceased to supply for her mindless spending, Scott swam into our lives like a fat, wealthy fish, and Stella didn’t miss any chance of luring him in.

  “You didn’t tell me.”

  “What, Dad?” Her head shifts from window to me.

  “About your friends. Did you make any?” I steer the vehicle and enter the dirt road to our house, observing the surroundings. I love this place. There’s so much greenery. This place is calm, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. All my life, I’d been looking for somewhere like this and now when I have found it, I’m overlooking it by keeping myself busy with the humdrums of life. Okay. Cool. I’ll be taking Carrie out for a picnic this Sunday. We can go to the lake for fishing or camping. Yup. That would be great. I’m sure Carrie would love it.