Page 17 of What Did I Miss?

Everything from the floors to the walls and minimalist couches is blinding white.

If the idea is to create an air of calm, then why does Makayla feel anything but?

Even the overwhelming notes of jasmine spritzing out of a diffuser aren’t helping.

She approaches the reception desk, where a young woman with flawless skin greets her with a breathy hello.

‘Booking under Patricia Forsyth,’ Makayla whispers like she’s in a library. ‘Party of three.’ She made the appointment for the women only, assuming Warren will nick off like he usually does.

The lady purses her lips, staring at the computer. ‘I’m terribly sorry. There’s only a two-person package coming up on our system.’

‘There must be a mistake. I confirmed on Thursday and definitely said three . Can you please check again?’ Makayla can sense Warren towering over her, assuming she purposely sabotaged this.

‘I understand you’re disappointed,’ the woman says with a don’t-shoot-the-messenger inflection. ‘There’s a note here about a last-minute change. I wish I could fit you all in, but there aren’t any other availabilities.’

Trish meanders towards the shelves of overpriced skincare that the beauty therapists will undoubtedly push them into buying post-treatment. Warren and Makayla exchange a look, and he concedes with a nod that this is the work of his meddling mother.

‘Oh well, these things happen.’ Trish sighs. ‘Makayla and I will catch up with you afterwards for cake and coffee. Let’s go, petal.’

Makayla ignores Warren’s pleading eyes as she glances at Diamond, who’s staring at the ground, too sweet to make a fuss. Makayla appreciates Trish’s loyalty, but she doesn’t need it at the expense of Diamond, whose only flaw seems to be bad taste in men.

‘I might have to sit this one out, actually – my skin rash flared up this morning. It’s probably safer if no one touches me.’ Makayla scratches her neck, legitimising the fib.

The therapist winces, making it clear she was eavesdropping, which is perfect – there’s no way she’ll let Makayla in now.

Before nudging his girlfriend to take the spot, Warren pulls Diamond in to place a feather-light kiss upon her forehead. Makayla catches herself staring; it’s strange to see his gentle side. Is he being tender to soothe Diamond from Trish’s blows, or is something else going on?

Trish seizes the opportunity to take Makayla aside. ‘Terrific plan,’ she says, surprising Makayla, who was expecting a lashing. ‘Now, you and Warren can have some alone time. I see what you did there.’ Trish winks.

‘I didn’t—’

Without waiting for a reply, Trish drags Diamond out of Warren’s embrace and shoves her towards the change rooms.

‘Thanks,’ Warren says to Makayla, sounding like he means it.

‘I didn’t do it for you. Diamond seems nice. Not sure why she’s with you .’

Makayla bites her tongue to stop herself from mentioning the Mustang. Where’s the fun in kicking a man when he’s down? Once they step outside and head off in opposite directions, Makayla re-reads Beau’s message and concludes it’s nothing more than a drunk booty call/text. What else can it be?

We’ll be having our mentor sessions at school, Mr Shepherd. Be ready on Monday. Enjoy your weekend.

Kiss or no kiss?

No kiss. Send.

After school, Makayla waits alone in their office for Beau to arrive for their first mentor meeting. She’s been there so long she’s grown accustomed to the constant drone of the floor scrubber going up and down the hallway, removing scuff marks that will just return tomorrow.

Just as she’s about to call it a day, Beau races in, apologising profusely while putting away his belongings in designated labelled spots.

Makayla also has a sophisticated system – one she likes to call ‘drop and run’.

She suppresses a smile, remembering their first morning together when she returned from the bathroom to a perfectly made bed.

She assumed it was his subtle way of kicking her out, but now she knows he can’t deal with objects being out of place.

Beau takes a seat beside her at the communal table. His leathery cologne, which has somehow survived a whole day of teaching, makes her heart jitter. Or maybe it’s that he’s ditched the pompous ties, but still wears the hell out of a clean shirt.

‘Uh-uh. Sit over there.’ Makayla points to a chair across the table.

‘Are you worried you can’t keep your hands off of me?’ He smirks.

‘No. You’re the one who should be worried. If you bring that up at work again, I’ll strangle you.’ Makayla’s tone matches her death stare, but it doesn’t seem to terrify Beau enough to make him take the threat seriously.

Makayla lets it go. She just wants to get this over and done with so she can get home and walk Piper before dinner. Animals are less complicated than humans.

‘Why did you become a teacher?’ Makayla asks.

‘I don’t think that’s one of the questions.’ Beau glances over the registration document.

‘It’s not. I’m asking. You said you wanted something stable,’ she says, recalling their conversation at the pub, ‘but why teaching?’

He takes a moment to consider his response.

‘I guess it’s because of my year seven English teacher, Mr Devonport.

The same year I started high school, my dad left, and I fell off the rails.

Mr D stepped up and kept me in line. He was the one who encouraged me to sit for the entrance exam at Cordington College.

He even came to my graduation, sat in the front row and cheered when they called my name.

Who knows how I would’ve turned out if he hadn’t pushed me?

Sorry. Was that a little too Dead Poets Society of me?

’ Beau nudges Makayla to stop her staring.

‘No. I was thinking that you and Ebony have a lot in common. Her dad also left at the start of high school. Probably a good thing, from what I’ve heard. Even so, it’s been rough, you know? Maybe you could be her Mr Devonport.’

‘I don’t see that happening. She hates me.’ Beau laughs, acting like it doesn’t bother him. ‘The damage is already done; I’ve decided not to fight her anymore. Ebony’s old enough to make better choices. She can sit at the back doing nothing, and I’ll focus on the students who want to be there.’

Makayla can’t believe what she’s hearing.

‘Don’t you see what she’s doing? Ebony’s testing you to see if you give a shit about her.

If you stop trying, you’ll reinforce everything bad she believes about herself.

Don’t give up on her,’ Makayla pleads, her voice croaking at the end.

She takes a sip from her emotional support water bottle to clear her throat.

Beau studies her quietly, then the look in his eyes changes from concern to determination. ‘I won’t,’ he whispers, like he’s made a silent promise.

Why is he looking at Makayla like she’s a wounded animal? She tousles her fringe, which is in desperate need of a snip. She’s waiting until she figures out what her new hairstyle will be. It’s been brown and long ever since she was a teenager.

‘We’d better look at these questions, Mr Keating,’ she says, smiling.

‘Okay, Ms Johnson.’ Beau chuckles.

‘Who?’

‘The teacher in Dangerous Minds . You know, Michelle Pfeiffer’s character, the cool one with the leather jacket. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it. That’s okay. We’ll watch it on our next date.’ He bites his lip.

Makayla reaches for his neck, pretending to shake him. ‘Grrr! I told you to stop that.’

Releasing her grip, she slides her hands down his muscled shoulders. She wills herself to remove her fingers, but they’re intent on proceeding to his biceps. The ones he wrapped around her the other week, providing her with the comfort he somehow knew she needed.

What would it be like if they went on a date?

An exhilarating sensation swirls in her chest. She would ask him all sorts of questions.

What was it like being raised by a single mother?

How close are he and his sister? Are there more siblings?

How did he get that scar? She blinks them away until all that remains is a question she’s afraid to ask herself: What if the better she knows him, the further she falls?

Beau inches closer. Close enough that with a simple sway of the head, she could tickle the tip of his nose with hers. His eyes sparkle, inviting her to continue. If his lips brush against hers, she’s a goner.

‘Am I interrupting something?’ Agnes purrs from the door, raising her drawn-on eyebrows.

Makayla leaps out of her chair and stumbles to her desk, searching for who knows what? She needs something for her hands to do, and a moment to let her burning cheeks cool down. How long was Agnes standing there? Great! That blabbermouth will tell everyone.

‘What’s up, Ag?’ Beau asks breezily.

He’s so much better at this than Makayla, who suddenly realises she’s standing at Cece’s desk. How did she not notice her best friend’s wacky collection of turtle figurines?

‘I was on my way to the car park when I heard voices. I thought some students were fooling around in here.’ Her voice bounces with excitement at the juicy gossip she’s stumbled upon. ‘I’ll let you get back to work .’ Agnes drags the door closed, soaking in the scene one last time as she does.

Beau breaks the silence first. ‘Makayla, I—’

‘Don’t!’ Rage swirls inside her. Mainly at herself for being so reckless. She hates that Agnes has one up on her. ‘If you’d moved to the other side like I asked, this wouldn’t have happened. Let’s get these questions done so we can go home.’

This time, Beau takes the warning seriously and moves to the furthest spot. They get on with their work, not mentioning what almost happened for the rest of the session.