Remembering the Past - Jacob Cunningham [Finished]

[Amita Bosko]

Amita peddled her red, retro bicycle down the road. After a mile or so, she realized where she was: she had stopped in front of her old high school. Here she was again in her old town. She gazed up at the windows on the second story. Would any of her old teachers remember her? She could count more than a few who had inspired her and made her who she was today. As she debated whether she should go inside or not, the dismissal bell rang and a flood of students overwhelmed her. Amita fought to stay in place against the wave.

As the crowd thinned, she again cast a look above at the windows. She gave a start as she saw long, black hair framing gentle green eyes looking back at her. It was her old teacher, Mr. Cunningham. If only he could know what she had become; what she had done in the short year since she graduated. She would never tell him, of course.

Amita raised her hand and gave a tentative wave. He must remember her; he was her favorite teacher! He inspired her to always keep an open mind to the possibilities, yet to always keep reality in mind. Sometimes she liked to imagine that she had been his favorite student.

[Jacob Cunningham]

Though he had landed that new job at an upscale private school in the City, Jacob was still under contract to complete a few more weeks at the high school he had previously worked at. Plus the semester at his new place had not started yet, so he still needed to work anyway. It wasn't an unpleasant situation, he enjoyed some of the kids he taught there and he had some friends on the faculty, but he was just anxious/excited to start a new job with better pay.

At the end of the day, he followed the throngs of teenagers out of the building to head back to his car and get home to his new apartment. He had already moved into a new apartment that was farther away, so there was that hassle now. He tried not to think about the assignments he had to grade when he got back home. Thankfully, he had welcome face to distract him.

In the crowd, on a red bicycle was an old student: Amita. She had aleady graduated, so it was a wonder as to why she was at the school. Jacob surmised that nostalgia had a lot to do with it. Whatever the case may be, he returned her little wave with his own and he made a bee line for her. She was a pretty girl, and one of his more enthusatic students. He had high hopes for her.

"Hey there, Amita! What brings you around these parts? I thought you graduated outta here."

There had been plenty of students that had come up to Jacob and tried to make friends with him, and he always welcomed them. In time, he basically became the cool teacher. However, that came with a small caveat. There had been a couple of situations where a student or two had developed something of a schoolgirl crush on him. It was... flattering, but something that was, y'know, highly inappropriate. It didn't help that he was horrible at spotting it until it got just a little bit too far. He hoped the situation with Amita wasn't like that.

[Amita Bosko]

When Mr. Cunningham approached Amita, she was a mixture of relieved and excited. She was relieved that she didn't have to make the decision to go inside (she had too many memories inside those doors; memories that she had tried to escape by roaming), and excited that she would get to talk to someone from, well, her old life. This was not something that happened to her very often.

She smiled at his call and promptly replied, "I was just biking through these parts. I haven't been in town since... since I graduated. I'm a bit surprised myself actually that I wound up here." She nodded towards the school. "It's just me and my bicycle most of these days..."

Amita looked up at those familiar green eyes. How she missed an old friend. She briefly thought of her high school friends, and how she would never see them again. At least, she hoped she wouldn't. If they asked too many questions about her life after high school, she wasn't sure how she would respond. Of course, friends would pry and try to fix the situation she was in, but maybe a teacher would have a different view; a teacher may even be supportive.

As the teacher opened his mouth to reply, Amita told herself not to get her hopes up. Be realistic, she thought.

[Jacob Cunningham]

"Maybe you were bringing yourself here, and you didn't know it."

There were a couple times that he could remember where he had experiences like that. Maybe he was just walking or biking and, without ever knowing or even thinking about it, his feet had lead him to some almost forgotten locale. There was a time where he had somehow wandered back to the place where he had received his first kiss, a tree by a lake in the countryside, even though he could not remember how or with whom that happened.

Looking down at the girl with the babydoll eyes, he saw something he wasn't quite expecting. She seemed to be happy to see him again, which was expected when seeing an old friend/acquaintence. But there seemed to be something else going on there behind those eyes. Plus, she was wording her answers a little crypticly. He technically wasn't her teacher anymore, however his instincts were kicking in and he just couldn't let the issue drop.

He stepped a little closer to Amita and put a hand on her shoulder, speaking in a lower tone so that only she could hear him.

"Is everything alright, Amita? Did somethin' happen?"

Before he was under an obligation to look into his students if something seemed up, but he was also hampered in his ability to do anything for them. Now that Amita was no longer his student, he could help her just like a friend with no fear of the PTA getting on his ass or someone accusing him of something he didn't do.

[Amita Bosko]

"Maybe you were bringing yourself here, and you didn't know it."

As the idea entered her mind, Amita had one of those flashbacks that you only see in movies.

Amita was standing in front of her house, now abandoned and decrepit, once large and majestic. She wasn't sure what had happened to the mortgage fees; perhaps they were linked to her parents' bank account. All she knew what that she didn't know what to do about money anymore. She always carried around her mother's worn leather wallet in her pocket, and the credit cards inside had sustained her enough until now, when a couple started to fail her. She looked up at the small house, wondering what she was to do. After poking around in the different rooms, she found several of her mother's old things, jewelry and what not. Amita sold most of them, but she kept a simple golden locket.

That locket shifted under her shirt as Mr. Cunningham suddenly touched Amita's shoulder.

"Is everything alright, Amita? Did somethin' happen?"

Amita looked up at his concerned expression, then turned her head to look out to the horizon. Here she was, again in a situation where she would have to lie. She hated lying. In the forever distance, she watched the large, fluffy clouds in the sky. They could look down and see where they were going and not be surprised by anything. Not that they would be, she thought, They don't have a care in the world. They just puff around. She paused. Maybe she wouldn't have to lie.

"I think I've become a cloud." She mused. Pointing, she added, "They just scoot around in the sky, not really achieving anything, just occasionally raining down on some poor, dry land. They don't interfere very much, and most people take them for granted." She nodded to herself. Amita looked back at Mr. Cunningham, not expecting him to understand.

[Jacob Cunningham]

Amita's attempt to hide her feelings from him were not quite doing the job. Jacob's suspicions that something was wrong were all but fully confirmed from her actions alone. Averting her gaze and staring off into the distance was a move he had seen many times before from many different students or young people whenever he inquired about something sensitive. It was either that, or they lashed-out at him or just shut down completely. Acting like that was natural for people Amita's age, but he wasn't going to be fooled by it.

Jacob gave her the time she needed to give him a response, standing silently by her side with a hand on her shoulder. He was afraid that she had clammed-up when she didn't respond for a bit.

"A cloud..."

He was... a little confused by her choice of answer at first. Amita, apparently, chose to respond in metaphor to his question and, frankly, Jacob wasn't that good at deciphering metaphors, if she even meant anything by it. He did know, however, that she was trying to hide something.

Bending down slightly, Jacob brought himself to her eye level so they could straight-on at each other. His eyes were serious yet concerned, unwilling to budge until he got the truth out of her.

"C'mon, Amita. You know you can tell me. Please. Is something the matter? Did someone hurt you? Was there some kind of falling out?"

He'd be lying if he said that her big brown eyes weren't a factor in his concern. They were so expressive and he could feel the sadness, or something, behind them and seeing them that way was just heart breaking.

[Amita Bosko]

"C'mon, Amita. You know you can tell me. Please. Is something the matter? Did someone hurt you? Was there some kind of falling out?"

As Mr. Cunningham lowered himself, and as he searched her eyes for some answers, Amita felt pressured. She truly respected this man. Surely he deserved the truth. He was no longer officially her teacher, so surely it would be alright to tell him. It wasn't like he'd be able to bring her mother back, so Amita couldn't see how he would try to take the problem from her and fix it himself. She had always been independent; sometimes she wasn't sure if it was because she liked it, or if she didn't have a choice.

After debating within herself, Amita decided giving Mr. Cunningham the half-truth. He didn't need to know about her power. He would never believe her; he might scream, yell at her, or call the police if she proved it to him. He might even turn out to be one of those people who couldn't handle it, and try to hurt her. She winced at the memory. Besides, she had been dealing with that all through high school. It wasn't a new problem.

"No...It was nothing like that. My mother passed away a couple years ago, and so I've been alone ever since I graduated. I left home, and this is only the second time I've returned to this town since."

[Jacob Cunningham]

"I'm so sorry."

Knowing that he was no longer her teacher, and not subject to the kinds of studpidly prosecutable rules the school imposed on him in this situation, Jacob leaned forward and gave Amit a gentle hug for reassurance. He didn't know what it was like to lose a parent, technically. He never knew his mother and he honestly didn't feel anything for the woman, so it wasn't like he lost her, and his father was alive and kicking. He could only imagine how hard it must have been for this young woman.

Pulling back, he left a hand on her shoulder. On one hand, he was a little relieved to learn the truth from Amita, and to know that she hadn't been hurt or worse. On the other hand, he was even more concerned because he learned that the girl seemed to be homeless and parentless at the moment. A thought came to his head, but now didn't seem like the time to voice it.

"Thank you for telling me the truth. Look, how about we go find somewhere to talk? Can I get you a hot meal or something?"

Now that he knew that this girl was on her own and lone, he just couldn't let it end there. A more paternal instinct had kicked-in and he was not about to let Amita go about on her own from here on out. Not until he was sure of a few things first.

[Amita Bosko]

The unexpected hug made Amita's breath catch in her throat. She realized in an instant that she hadn't had such an embrace since her mother passed. She didn't want the hug to end. As Mr. Cunningham stepped away, Amita tried hard to conceal the tears forming in her eyes. She didn't want to start crying. Not now, not ever.

Receiving the invitation caught Amita off guard. What? Spend time with someone else, someone I actually know? She stopped and remembered the hug. It had been a good idea to tell Mr. Cunningham, she decided.

His green eyes searched hers for a response. She slowly nodded.

"Alright. That sounds good." She let out a smile, trying to conceal the sadness from just a moment before. She was a little concerned; she had held little conversation in the past year, but maybe it would all be okay.

[Jacob Cunningham]

Before he stood back up, Jacob brought up a finger and wiped away a tear that had formed on the corner of her eye. Amita was trying to blink away the tears from the hug, but she needed that little bit of extra help. It was good to see that she was still feeling something, and that put a smile on his face as he got back on his feet. This girl needed reassurance and someone familiar to be near, and Jacob was only too happy to be that someone. Looking around he tried to think of a nice place nearby.

"Hm... Oh. Follow me. There's a place up the road."

It was a short, quiet walk and it probably wasn't that big of a deal for Amita since she had a bike to ride. It was a little local grille where they could sit outside, and keep an eye on her bike in case something happened to it.

"Order anything you like, Amita. My treat."

After the server came around to get their orders, Jacob figured it was as good a time as any to start finding out about the details about what's been happening to Amita.

"Now when you said you left home, did you just... go? Like ran away from home? Just you and your bike?"

[Amita Bosko]

Amita's heart fluttered as the finger brushed away a tear. She always felt it was awfully personal to touch someone else's face and she normally disliked people being so close to her, but the affection caught her off guard. She felt a sudden need for to be near someone, and it scared her. She thought that over the past year she had stopped caring for people, declaring them something that she no longer needed. Now she realized how wrong she was.

Amita walked her bike beside Mr. Cunningham. She normally rode it everywhere, so her legs were nicely toned from all the exercise. A short walk was nothing.

As they stopped at a local grille, Amita smiled. It was one of her old favorites. The familiar smells washed over her, making her head spin. She appreciated the small gesture of concern Mr. Cunningham made as they sat outside where she could watch her bike. She liked eating outside. Being indoors made her itch, as though she wanted to be on the move again.

Amita ordered a little plate of breaded shrimp, and paused at the next question given to her.

"Now when you said you left home, did you just... go? Like ran away from home? Just you and your bike?"

"Well I didn't run away from anything. There was no one to run away from. I suppose I just grabbed my bicycle one day, needing to get out of the empty house for some fresh air, and I just..." she shrugged, "...never came back. It hasn't been bad, traveling. I quite enjoy it." Amita twirled her braid, not able to sit still. "I've seen so much, you wouldn't believe it!" She smiled. She tried to focus on the good things that happened while she was gone. She had already forgotten the bad things; why bring them up again?

[Jacob Cunningham]

So she just kept on riding one day. That was something he had heard at least one other person do before, but it was never someone he knew. It was always a story of just some guy or some kid, but the circumstances were usually quite similar to what was happening to Amita. There was a problem at home, or just some kind of pain, and one day they just rode or drove off without a thought. From the sound of it, Amita didn't really think about it either, she just kept riding. Out of sight, out of mind.

It was an almost tragically romantic way to run away from home. No thought went into the action and it was all impulse and heart, and that someone would just walk off into the sunset and just not stop and have no destination in mind. He honestly couldn't imagine a girl like Amita doing that. Especially since she seemed to be treating it like a vacation.

"I bet you've seen a lot. That kinda happens when you go out into the world. You should tell me about what you've seen. However..."

Jacob leaned forward to Amita, still serious.

"... Not until after I get you home, or something. I can't, in good conscience, let a young lady like you just wander around alone. I bet you can handle yourself and stuff, but still! Hell, if you don't wanna go back home, you can come with me."

He didn't exactly think about that, but he was too concerned with Amita to really let her go anywhere she could run away from again, or risk getting hurt.

"I got a spare bedroom and there's plently of room for both of us."

[Amita Bosko]

Amita was startled to hear those words. More than startled, actually; her heart was pounding and she could feel her face start to flush. Maybe going to the high school was a mistake. She pushed back her chair and slowly stood up. The food she had ordered hadn't even arrived yet.

"Mr. Cunningham, I know you have good intentions, but you really don't need to worry about me. I am quite capable of taking care of myself." She chuckled at past memories where she felt like a superhero. "Trust me. I don't need to go home." She then added in a soft whisper, "This was a bad idea..." Amita pushed in her chair and walked off towards her bicycle, shaken. He was her teacher, for goodness sakes. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He's not your teacher anymore, a voice whispered in her ear. There aren't any rules now that you've graduated. You're already nineteen. There's nothing stopping you. You have no where to go. No home, no friends. He's all you got. Amita shook her head and reached for her bike. He's all I got? No. I don't have him at all. He's just trying to be nice. She wasn't sure what to think anymore. Surely she was making the right decision...

[Jacob Cunningham]

Goddammit. Making females walk away from him was quickly turning into a special power of Jacob's. Maybe he was too forward sometimes or maybe he really needed to evaluate how he talked to women, but Amita was now the second woman to try and just up and leave him because of what he said, and not necessarily because he said something bad. Hell, it was the third time, with the first two coming from the same woman before Amita.

In fact, that whole sentiment was why Jacob got up so forcibly after Amita did. He almost seemed like he was angry as he walked up to the young girl and took her by the arm and turned her to face him. His expression was sternm yet concerned, like he wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"Amita, you're not goin' anywhere until I know you're safe."

He didn't care how he looked to other people at the moment. All Jacob cared about was making sure that Amita wasn't in harm's way anymore, or making any unnecessary risks. For a moment, he felt like a father mixed with his mentor role as a teacher.

"You can have the room and I don't care what else you do. Everyone has their secrets, their regrets, and things they just want to keep to themselves. I get that. You can have that and I won't pry. But you're a young girl and I cannot have you out there, alone on the streets. Hell, I'll help bring stuff from your old house to my place."

His voice and tone softened, as did his expression.

"And you can trust me. I'm not some creep. Rest assured, I'm not going to try anything on you or something. Please, Amita. I care too much about you to just let you run off."

[Amita Bosko]

When Mr. Cunningham grabbed her arm, Amita's eyes grew wide. Her instincts screamed at her to use her power, self-defense moves, anything! ...But she couldn't. Right now, he thought she was just a helpless girl who needed protection. She wasn't about to blow her cover. For a moment she again considered the possibility of showing him her power, just so he would believe her.

As he continued his spiel, Amita's heart softened. He was her friend, her past mentor; of course he'd care for her. She didn't want him to view her as a freak.

Amita realized they were attracting strange looks from others at the cafe. She took a deep breath. "Mr. Cunningham, sir, if it would really make you feel better," she briefly closed her eyes, "then I'll go. We don't have to stop by my old home, I've already got everything I need." She glanced at her small satchel resting on her hip. She momentarily wondered about his transportation and whether he had left a vehicle at the school. Did he live near enough that he didn't have to drive one to work?