He straightened as I approached my car, his eyes narrowing, and I pulled out my keys and my cell in a smooth move and pressed record.
“Mr. Carter,” he said, voice rough and slightly slurred. “We need to talk.”
My heart pounded, but I kept my voice steady. “I’m sorry, sir, but any conversations about Jamie must happen through the principal’s office.”
“You think you’re some hero?” he snapped and came closer. Too close. “You watch yourself, Mr. Carter. You keep out of my business, or you’ll regret it. It’s all Jamie can talk about, making Ella think you’re gonna fix everything when there’s nothing to fucking fix.”
Ella? Jamie’s mom, maybe?
I stood my ground, hands trembling slightly. “I’m recording this, and I’m calling 911.”
“Figures.” He sneered, his expression twisting bitterly.
He stumbled away, swaying as he walked backward, his gaze never leaving mine until he turned and disappeared into the growing shadows of the evening. Only when I had 911 on the line, and he was entirely out of sight, did I release a few shaky breaths that I’d been holding. I made the report, headed back into the school, filed everything -- dates, times, and what he said -- then returned to my car, locking the doors, anxiety twisting in my gut as I drove away. Now, the cops had the meeting on file, the school was aware, and Principal Lewis would escalate to family services. I knew Jamie and his mom were staying with an aunt, but I’d told the cops they needed to check in with them. They took my opinion seriously as an educator, and I hoped that was enough.
I’d never heard such hatred in a parent’s voice. How was his hate for the world so much bigger than his son’s well-being?
Even at home, I felt unsettled, and sleep was elusive, so I reached for my phone to send a message for Walker to wake up to. A joke, something not serious, something I could laugh about. Instead of typing, I hit the call button. It rang only once before he answered, his voice warm and instantly reassuring.
“Finn, hey.”
I sighed softly, feeling my tension ease slightly at the sound of his voice. “Hey. Were you asleep?”
“Nah, watching game film on the Champlain Fusiliers for tomorrow.”
“Shit, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re never an interruption,” he said firmly. Then, more gently, he added, “You sound tense. What’s wrong?”
I hesitated, unsure how much to share, but Walker’s quiet patience encouraged me. “There’s this kid at school, and there’s some… I can’t… I don’t know where to start… but there was a confrontation with his father and… I just needed to hear your voice.”
Walker’s voice immediately sharpened, protective. “A parent causing trouble? Did he hurt you? Threaten you?”
“No, nothing like that exactly, just… ” I paused, swallowing the lingering anxiety. “He was just there outside school, so I called 911 and reported it, but… ”
“Dammit, Finn,” Walker mumbled, his voice tight. “What do you need? You want me to be outside the school daily? Just tell me, and I will be.”
His protective streak warmed me deeply, calming my racing heart. “No, it’s okay. It’s handled. It just unnerved me that a parent could have so much hate in them for their own family.”
I waited for him to comment, but he was very quiet, and the silence was weird. Had I been cut off? I glanced at my screen. Nope, we were still connected.
“You still there?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry. Here.”
“So, I wanted to hear your voice,” I said to break the silence and remind him I was there.
“Always,” he said. “You know you can call me anytime, right?”
“I know,” I whispered, smiling despite myself. “How was your day, though? Tell me something good.”
He chuckled, the sound instantly relaxing me. “Well, I spent most of my day helping Bob with glitter and thinking about this art teacher I know. I heard he’s a big fan of hockey now.”
I laughed, the tension finally draining from me. “I think he might just be a big fan of you.”
Walker’s voice grew soft, tender. “Good. Because I’m pretty sure I’m his biggest fan too.”
We talked for an hour, shifting from serious to silly, and by the time we finally said goodnight, I felt calmer. I’d done everything I could, and I had to rely on the people who could do something by carrying out their jobs. Jamie was my student, my responsibility, and with the cops and school aware that his dad was a drunken, threatening asshole, there wasn’t much else I could do. I curled up in bed, and all I could think about was Walker. I knew I was falling for him—hard and fast—in ways I’d never anticipated. The idea sent a gentle thrill through me, but it was also frightening. Walker had a past, his struggles, and the counselor part of me worried about moving too fast or expecting too much.
