Page 34 of Hale Yeah, It’s You

Mrs. Betty beams at me Monday morning as the bell rings for class change, only adding to my already bubbly mood. We’ve been flying through the first set build, and the iconic balcony scene is finally starting to take shape. The kids are surprisingly handy with the power tools.

“I’d say we’re moving faster than a cheetah on roller skates!” Betty claps her hands, grinning. A few students snicker as they head out of the theater.

My chest swells with pride as I watch them go. They’re seeing their work come alive, piece by piece, and there’s nothing quite like it. Maybe I should’ve been a teacher after all. But at least the hardware store classes will give me a little taste of that—if things go the way I hope.

“I’d say that’s pretty accurate.” I laugh. “I don’t see any reason we won’t finish with time to spare.”

“Stunning sets for a stunning performance. I’m tickled pink.” Betty pats my arm and turns to wrangle a group of students near the paint trays .

The theater is buzzing with energy—bright lights overhead, tarps protecting the wood floor, paint cans and brushes scattered in various stages of use. Everything’s in motion.

I keep glancing toward the double doors, hoping to see Roman through the glass. I missed him first thing this morning—his office was empty before school started—and I can’t shake the feeling of anticipation curling in my gut. It’s ridiculous how much it reminds me of being seventeen again.

Betty’s definitely on to me.

Just have to get through the school day and then I can track him down. But for now, I’m trying not to spiral about Alayna. I scan the students filing in, but she’s not among them. My heart races a little faster. Where is she?

Did Clay let her stay home again? Is she sick? I step into the aisle, trying to peer out into the hallway. A couple of students rush past as the second bell rings, and then… nothing. The hallway goes still. My shoulders sag.

I start to pull the door closed, but as I do, Roman turns the corner.

I step into the hallway, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite the knot of nerves tightening in my stomach. He smiles back, but there’s a weight to it. The usual spark behind his eyes is missing, and my pulse only stutters harder.

He stops in front of me, running a hand along his jaw. His suit jacket is missing today, his sleeves pushed up, the top of his button-down undone. His navy slacks are slightly wrinkled, and he looks like he could use a stiff drink. There’s something important behind his eyes.

“Hey, you,” I say softly, reaching out to touch his forearm. His skin is warm under my fingertips, comforting in a way I didn’t know I needed.

“Hey, Frankie.” He exhales. “As much as I want to be just Roman right now, I’m here in a principal capacity. I need to speak to you as Ms. Hale—the guardian of Ms. Alayna. ”

My stomach drops. “Oh God, is she okay?” I tighten my grip on his arm.

“She’s fine—physically. But I need you to come with me. I’ll explain once we’re there, if that’s alright.”

I let go of his arm, suddenly hyper aware of how inappropriate it is to touch him right now. My mind reels. Alayna’s never been in trouble. What could she possibly have done?

I nod, forcing myself to stay calm. “Yes, sir. Lead the way.”

Roman flinches slightly at the ‘sir,’ and his eyes soften with something like regret.

Still, he nods and turns toward the front office.

I count tiles on the floor as we walk, anything to distract from the panic tightening my chest. I’m a mess—splattered paint on my shirt, jeans, and even my tennis shoes.

I can only pray there’s no dried primer on my face.

Kate looks up from her desk as we enter. Her golden hair is twisted into the same elegant updo from the other day, and her pink business suit fits her like it was tailored for her curves. I stand a little taller, trying not to shrink. It feels like I’m the one in trouble and not my niece.

“Ms. Payton, please hold my calls,” Roman says without looking at her.

“Yes, Dr. Clarke.” Her tone is neutral, but I swear there’s a flicker of something in her eyes as she glances at me.

Alayna is already seated in one of the worn chairs in front of Roman’s desk, her back to me. My heart thuds.

“Please, come inside and have a seat, Ms. Hale.” Roman’s voice is gentle, but there's tension in it.

Alayna turns at the sound of my name. Her eyes are glassy, rimmed red. I rush to her, crouching in front of her chair.

“Are you hurt?” I scan her, head to toe. Nothing broken. No bruises. I brush a tear off her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, voice barely audible.

Roman gestures to the chairs. “If you’ll sit, we can begin. ”

Reluctantly, I take the seat beside Alayna and pull her hand into my lap. She squeezes mine back, and it nearly undoes me. I’ve missed her.

“Before second period, Alayna and another student were caught trying to leave campus. Since they were stopped before they actually left—and because neither has a history of disciplinary issues—I wanted to offer a chance to explain.”

If I weren’t so worried about Alayna, I’d be melting. Roman in this role—measured, compassionate, in control—is dangerously attractive. But my niece is pale, visibly shaken, and I’m just as eager to hear her side.

“Thank you for the grace,” I say. I don’t want to believe he’s giving her special treatment for my sake, but I trust him. He wouldn’t compromise his integrity.

“And the other student?” I ask.

“I can’t say,” Roman replies. “But I assure you, they’re being treated fairly.”

I nod and turn to Alayna. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

She avoids our eyes, chewing on her lower lip. Her knee bounces anxiously.

“It was stupid. I’m really sorry. I’ll never do it again,” she says, eyes filling with tears. “It wasn’t Derek’s fault. Please don’t punish him. He was only trying to help.”

Roman leans forward. “Why were you trying to leave campus in the first place? I’d like to understand what led to that decision, Alayna.”

She glances at me before looking back at her lap. “We finished our math test early, so Mrs. Michaels let us sit in the hall to practice lines. We were working on the street brawl scene, and we started talking about how silly the feud is after all the tragedy. It reminded me of divorce…”

Roman offers her a tissue. I release her hand so she can take it, my heart aching as she wipes her eyes.

“What happened next?” I ask gently .

“I started crying. I told Derek it felt like my parents got divorced and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Roman’s brow furrows. “Did your parents recently divorce?”

Alayna lifts her chin. “Not my mom. I’m talking about Frankie and my dad.”

The words hit like a gut punch. Of course she saw it that way. I hadn’t even thought about it from her perspective.

“Oh, baby girl.” I pull her close as she cries into my shoulder.

The door opens, and Clay steps in, eyes wide with concern. He’s polished as always—perfect tie, crisp suit—but his expression is anything but calm. His blue eyes pin me with questions.

“I came as soon as I got the message. What’s going on?”

Roman stands, extending a hand. “Mr. Phillips. Thank you for coming. Alayna was caught attempting to leave campus. We’re giving her the chance to explain.”

Clay steps behind us, resting a hand on Alayna’s shoulder. Roman sits again.

“Alayna? Would you like to continue?” he prompts.

She sniffs, “I got really upset. I told Derek that Frankie moved out and it felt like losing my mom.” Her words are shaky but honest, her voice breaking on mom .

“I couldn’t stop crying and I was embarrassed.

I told Derek I was going to walk home. He wanted to cheer me up, so he said he’d take me to Jake’s for a milkshake and bring me back after lunch so we wouldn’t miss the whole day.

He was just trying to be a good friend. We shouldn’t have tried to leave, but I was so upset… ”

When she’s done, silence stretches.

“Who is this Derek kid again?” Frustration bleeds through Clay’s voice.

“Romeo, from the play,” I answer quietly.

Roman clears his throat. “What I’m hearing, Alayna, is that you were in need of someone to talk to, and your friend was kind enough to listen and offer comfort.

I can’t, in good conscience, punish either of you for that.

I do believe you see the error in judgment and won’t repeat today’s decision.

However, I’d like you to make an appointment with the school counselor if you feel you have more to get off your chest.”

Alayna nods, relief flooding her features. “Yes, Dr. Clarke. Thank you. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Roman stands. “I’ll leave you three to talk. Alayna, you can head back to class when you’re ready.” He slips out, quietly closing the door behind him.

Alayna and I both stand, turning to face a red-faced Clay.

“Let me get this straight.” Clay’s anger is barely restrained. “You were upset because of Frankie, and now it’s affecting school? You could’ve called me.”

Alayna’s cheeks are already pink from crying, but I watch the flush deepen. “I’m sorry, Dad. I thought Frankie would live with us forever, and when she left—and you were so upset—it made me feel helpless.”

Guilt crashes over me like a cold wave. “I’m sorry, too, Alayna. I wish you’d called me, or answered any of my messages. I’m not leaving you. I’m two streets or a phone call away. You’re not getting rid of me, kiddo.” I pull her into a hug, letting her bury her head in my neck.

“If you’d given us more time…” Clay’s voice hardens as he turns to me. “You had already picked out a place before you even told us you were leaving.”