Coda 01 - Promises

could tell by his face that he hated saying it. “We got a call from one of the moms.” I heard Aiden groan. “She was worried about her kid spending so much time here. She asked us to check it out.”
    “I’m not doing anything wrong.” My jaw was clenched so tight, I was surprised they could understand me.

    Officer Grant Jameson snorted.
    Matt shot him a dirty look but said to me, “I know.” He looked at the floor, fidgeted more with his hat. “She was pretty upset, and she’s been making calls to some of the other parents. I’m sorry.” Now he looked back up at me, and I hated myself for the way my heart skipped a beat, just looking into his eyes. “I think it might be best if you had them go home.”
    “This is bullshit!” Ringo suddenly yelled, standing up from the table. “Jared is the only one who’s been able to teach us this stuff. You can’t make us leave.”
    Jameson turned on him. “Look, kid—”
    “Stop!” Amazingly, he did, and everybody looked at me. I turned to Jameson. “This is my house, and you have no right to come in here like this. I’m not doing anything wrong, and I would like you to leave. Right now.” I looked at Matt and said, “Both of you!” Matt flinched and looked away.
    Jameson opened his mouth to speak, but I wasn’t done. I turned to the students. “I certainly don’t want anybody thinking I’m corrupting their kids.” I tried not to sound too sarcastic when I said that. “I think the officer is right. You should all go home.”
    This was met by loud protests, mainly voiced in the form of obscenities, from the kids.

    “Jared, you can’t quit teaching us now. We need your help,” Ringo said. “Since you started helping us, we’re all passing.”
    One of the other boys jumped in. “Right. This is the first year that I’ve been able to keep playing football. Every other year, my math grades are too low for eligibility.”
    “Listen, I’ll keep teaching—”

    “Sir, I don’t think—”Jameson tried to cut in, but I just raised my voice and talked over him.
    “—but anybody who comes back, you need to bring a note from your parents saying that it’s okay. Tell the others too. And I know your handwriting, so don’t try to forge it.”
    Everybody looked relieved at that except Aiden. There didn’t seem to be much I could do about that, though.

    The kids finally left, and Jameson headed for the car, but Matt hung back.
    He was watching me warily. I was gathering up dirty paper plates and empty pop cans, doing my best not to look at him. “Jared, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate.” I didn’t say anything. Whatever anger I had started with was gone, and I just felt embarrassed and resentful. “This is why, isn’t it?” he asked quietly. “This is why you aren’t teaching? It’s not really about the shop at all.”
    “Yes.” And I hated how defeated I sounded when I said it. “Maybe you could—”
    I didn’t want to talk to him about it. Not now, with everything else lying unfinished between us. I looked up at him and said, with more venom than I felt, “Will that be all, Officer Richards?” I could tell I had hurt him, but I didn’t care. He looked away.
    “That’s all.”

    I resisted the urge to slam the door behind him.

O N T HURSDAY , most of my students came back with permission
    slips. A few of the parents had actually written encouraging notes, telling me that they trusted me and that they appreciated what I was doing for their kids. It made me feel better, and after that the tutoring sessions resumed without incident.
    A few days later, Cole called.

    “Hey, Sweets. Are you lonely tonight?” He always talked in a flirty, flamboyant, lilting voice, and he never called me by name. “We’ll both be lonely tonight if you call me that again.” I knew he wouldn’t listen.
    “Don’t be such a kill-joy.”
“Are you in Vail? The slopes aren’t even open yet, are they?”
    “Just passing through, Sweets. I thought I could head your way for the night. That is, if you’re feeling accommodating.”
    My first instinct was to say no. But who was I kidding? I knew Matt wasn’t celibate in his relationship with Cherie, and I certainly didn’t owe him anything on that front. Plus, I don’t get that many opportunities. There was no telling when Cole would call again— maybe as soon as next month, maybe not until next year. Maybe never. And the thought of the months stretching out