Page 2 of Mercy & Malice

Time off school is not something I’m looking forward to. My daily schedule will still be mostly busy since I signed up for extra shifts at work, but it will still give me too much unwanted free time.

His chipper demeanor is refreshing compared to the whiny helper I had earlier. And maybe after my delusional moment, it’s nice not being alone with my thoughts.

“Thanks. Let’s get a little more done, then that’s probably enough for tonight.”

“Got it.” Mr. LeBlanc gives me a thumbs-up before he gets to work. “My high school never did anything this fancy. But that was ages ago.”

From the looks of him, I don’t think it was that long ago. There’re plenty of students who make it known they would risk it all if Mr. LeBlanc would ever look their way. “Where did you go to school?”

“A little town only an hour away, yet it feels a world away from New Orleans. I considered going back after uni, but city life grew on me. Your mom mentioned you’ll be attending DUNO next fall?”

My plans are to attend Delacroix University of New Orleans in the fall, but it was more of a pre-selected obligation than a choice. “Yep. It made sense when they offered a full academic scholarship.”

“Ah, that does makes sense.”

Yes. It should. Of course that was expected from my mother who sits on the advisory board since Belgrave Academy has direct ties to DUNO. I’d like to think my GPA and extracurriculars made me an appealing choice, but it will be another school where I’m looked at as only her daughter. At least there she won’t actually be walking the halls though. But I still think it’s a way for her to keep an eye on me. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll bail and attend somewhere far away from home.” I consider my mom getting wind of that as I add, “Don’t mention that.”

She didn’t even want me to apply anywhere else. I wanted to explore all options that would be available. Mom said it was pointless and a waste of everyone’s time since I’d (she’d) already decided on Delacroix.

He leans closer and whispers, “Your secret is safe with me.” The sly smile on his face makes me a little uneasy. My mom is his boss. He’s my math teacher. And I’m his student.

Focusing on our task at hand, I shake the anxiety away and get back to work. He makes conversation and I engage the least amount possible without being rude. Once I wrap up my current task, I tell him, “That’s it for tonight. Thanks for helping.”

“My pleasure.” He steps back and takes a look around the gym. “I’ll walk you out.”

I start tidying up a few tables to stall. “No, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He doesn’t relent. “Brooke, it’s late and dark outside. I don’t mind, and I’m sure your mother would rather me escort you out than leave you to wander around here all alone.”

I’d rather be alone. The realization is wild. I’ve always preferred being around people. And would be the first to suggest a group project or team event. Now, I’m just exhausted at keeping up with everyone around me and making sure they’re comfortable and taken care of. And yet I’m still doing it because I don’t want to be rude to someone making me uncomfortable.

“Okay,” I cave before grabbing my things and following him out of the gym.

Once we’re in the parking lot, I wave to him and head to my car. I drop into the driver’s seat and lock the doors before starting up my car. Mr. LeBlanc doesn’t pull out of the parking lot until I do, though he turns out in the opposite direction than I’m heading.

I would’ve turned that way if I were going to my old house. But I’m thankful I don’t have to step into a house where I don’t know what version of my father I’d be getting.

Clicking on my happy playlist, I crank up the music. Music has a direct effect on my mood, and I don’t need a sad song to come on. While I’m belting out “My Toot Toot” by Rockin’ Sidney, every care in my mind recedes as I picture all the times Mawmaw sang it while we danced around, and I make a mental note to go to her house soon. However, when I see the blue lights flashing in my rearview, all the happiness I’ve assembled vanishes.

After hesitating a few seconds, I pull over to the side of the road. There’s a side street, but I don’t want to be in a more secluded area. I debate messaging my mom, but I don’t want her to show up here. If anything, that would probably escalate the situation if it is who I think it is. And that is the case because the last officer in the city that I’d want to see is the one who steps beside my window—my father.

Taking a steadying breath, I press the button until my window is about halfway down then return my hands to the steering wheel. Dad stands beside the driver’s door, not saying a word as he watches me.

It’s at least a full minute—that feels like a thousand hours—before he finally speaks. “Why were you at school so late?”

“Decorating for the winter masquerade,” I reply evenly, trying to keep my voice stable and not too forceful.

“Unattended with a teacher? Your mother thinks that’s smart?”

Only he would place the blame on my mother for the decisions I make. Probably because he blames all his actions on others, his parents included, while he’s a whole grown-ass man.

“He just walked me out since it was late at night.” And because monstrosities like the one I’m looking at could be lurking in the shadows. “My friends had just left, but I had a few more things I wanted to get finished.”

“They left hours ago.”

A cold, grappling chill slithers down my spine. I was being watched. The realization sinks in deeper by the second as I sit silent and unreactive, waiting for him to speak. I keep my fingers tight on the steering wheel to hide the trembling but make sure I’m not clutching it in fear. It’s just enough to focus on to keep my nerves at bay and not completely lose my shit.

Minutes drag by until he says, “Tell your mother she can’t avoid me forever.”