The summer had ticked away–not that Maka noticed all that much. The hazy heat had only left her even more anxious to get to the halls and establish herself in this new place. It was only interrupted by running with Blake, trying to settle into a world with Papa in it daily, and those chance, short meetings in the therapist's office.
Maka glanced at each number, counting down to 203 before turning and knocking on the glass of the window. She still wasn't used to him in a tie, but there he was: the man from the party, from that constant seat at Dr. Yumi's office: Soul Evans hunched over his desk with a grimace. They'd run into each other plenty of times in the halls, mostly just for a nod and a hello, but the most words he ever spoke to her was in the safety of that office. She registered the initial shock on his face before he waved her in. "Mr. Evans, do you have a moment?"
That fleeting surprise was back, eyebrows climbing up towards his hairline. "You know we usually call each other by our first names when the kids aren't around. Not to mention if it has to be like that, it's Mr. E."
Like what? Maka wanted to ask but she let it flutter to the back of her mind. "I wanted to ask about James King."
Soul leaned on his elbow while a frown started to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, what about him?"
Maka let her eyes fall to the notebook in her hand. "He's in both your remedial class and your radio class. It just so happens that those are the only ones he's passing and we're only a few weeks into school."
"Yeah. And?"
"And I'm curious." She moved towards him, hunkering down at the student desk across from him. With pen poised over paper, she went back to her interrogation. "I've talked to his other teachers and they seem to think he's a lost cause already."
Soul snorted as he leaned back in his chair.
"Is that funny?" She flicked her pen, a healthy mix of nervousness and annoyance lacing the movement.
"Sorta." He shrugged before tossing a hand through his hair. "There's not that much you can do. He got a shit deal with his teachers this year and none of 'em have listened to my suggestions."
She steadied her pen again. "What are your suggestions?"
He sighed. "I told you–"
"Humor me." She shot a glare at him, but instead of watching him wither, she only caught another glimpse of surprise before it turned into a healthy smirk.
"James is a real pain in the ass, but he's got his reasons." Soul tapped his fingers playfully along the side of the desk like they were keys on a piano. "He doesn't do homework. That usually makes people think 'slacker', but he's actually got three younger siblings at home that he's takin' care of. Mom works from dawn until dusk—single parent—so she's zero help. By the time she gets home, he goes to work for a couple hours to pick up extra cash. Comes home and crashes after."
"But homework shouldn't count for that much of his grade," Maka muttered in between her scribbles.
"Nah, but he's got a great little self-esteem issue on top of it. The minute his grade starts tanking, he just shuts down. Assumes we all think he's stupid." That brought a bitter sigh from Soul's mouth. "He's squeaked by other years, but you and I both know he's doubled up on Science and Math this year just so he can graduate. He's got me for English so he's gonna pass, but his Math teacher…"
Maka looked at her notes. "Parsons."
"A dick," Soul spat. "His Science teacher's not so hot either."
"Ferrera."
Soul nodded. "And I appreciate you askin' my opinion, but–"
"I'll take care of it." She stood, closing her notebook quickly. "Thank you for your time, Mr–" Like what? fluttered over her mind again. "Soul."
"Yeah, well…" The tapping stopped, his glance drifting down to his nail beds. "Next time you can just call, you know?"
"I hate the phone," Maka answered vehemently, but he still didn't raise his head. "I like seeing people's faces. They're easier to read that way."
He laughed softly. "Which means I gotta keep workin' on my poker face, huh?"
"You don't have one," Maka corrected.
That seemed to be the most surprising thing yet, his jaw slightly slack as he finally brought scarlet eyes to blink at her incredulously. "You're the first person to ever say that."
"It's the truth." She pulled the notebook to her chest. "Have a good day." Turning on her heels did nothing to quell the anxiety that started. What was that? Why am I even insinuating that I know him? Just one minute at one party where I thought–
"Maka," he called to her as soon as her hand hit the doorknob.
Her fingers toyed with the metal, only a weak threat to move it. "What?"
"Just warnin' you that we might run into each other again today after school."
Wednesday.
Therapy with Dr. Yumi.
4:30 PM.
She peeked over her shoulder. "I told you it wasn't a big deal. Actually… I never asked: would you rather I didn't mention it to anyone?"
His lips worked silently for a moment before his shoulders churned weakly. "It's not for me. It's for my daughter, Layla."
A daughter?
"And everyone here knows about her so… guess it's not a big deal either." He straightened his shoulders, glare firmly connecting with hers. "Just– I didn't warn you before, but she's a talkative kid. Don't be surprised if she gabs and gushes if you run into her sometime."
"Layla's a pretty name." It came dumbly off her tongue, making her face burn.
He chuckled. "Didn't pick it, but guess it's fine. Like the Clapton song."
So your wife? Your girlfriend? She turned her head to hide the flare of color on her cheeks. As if that's any of my business. "Well, don't worry. I– if I see you, I see you. Or Layla."
"Alright."
Getting through the door couldn't come fast enough, but even with the freedom the hallway promised she still came up short for air.
Soul stood, putting a hand on Layla's shoulder before she could bound off towards Marie. "Do you mind if you and I talk for a second? Without Layla."
That incurred a disgruntled hmph from his charge who wiggled out of his hold and huffed to the couch.
"Sure, of course," Marie answered, giving Layla a sweet smile before waving Soul back towards her office. He followed dutifully until he was standing in the middle of the playmat, Marie just closing the door behind them. "You can have a seat on the couch."
"It'll just be a minute." He sunk his hands into his pockets, only half-catching Marie's attentive gaze. After clearing his throat, Soul started: "Her grandpa wants to keep seein' her every weekend–even with school."
"Your father or Julien?"
"Julien," he answered quickly. "The summer went fine but… thought I should ask you what you thought. Flora– she's still not doin' too well. Alzheimers is gettin' worse. They're keepin' that private nurse for her full-time but I'm worried how that'll affect Layla."
"She's talked about it a little." Marie didn't share his nervousness, simply moving to rest in her chair. "She does get frustrated that Flora doesn't remember, especially remembering things about Viv. We're working on her asking Julien or Remy and being careful and thoughtful about it."
Soul nodded. "So… it won't hurt her?"
"Soul, remember, it's not about not hurting. It's about teaching her how to cope when things do hurt." Marie opened her palms towards him as if they held the answers. "You brought her here for that exact reason, right?"
"Right," he croaked.
"What about you?" Marie prodded.
He fidgeted on his feet. "What about me?"
"How are you coping?" She turned her hands, flattening her fingers against the desk. "It's rare that I get you alone, so I thought I'd ask."
"I'm fine." He turned halfway towards the door, taking a step but not reaching for the knob.
"Have you given any thought about what you want to say to Layla?"
"I talk to her all the time," he murmured.
"About her father, Soul. Have you talked to her about Wes?"
A shaking hand reached for the knob. "I don't know enough about him to say a damn thing."
Maka walked into the office, finding a completely different face in the spot Soul always occupied. It was a young girl, eyes like evergreen with dark, wavy hair. Is that her? She doesn't look anything like him, but… Maka offered a smile and found a warm one instantly returned. She stopped at the window to check in before finding the child watching her with singular intent.
"You're new," the girl chirped as Maka sat next to her on the couch.
"Yes, and I've never seen you before."
She was relentless, staring at Maka's face as if categorizing every wrinkle and curve. "Usually Papa waits for me. He made me wait today. Do you see Dr. Marie?"
"No, Dr. Yumi."
"Oh, the one with the glasses?" The girl mimicked a stern glare, perfectly mirroring one of the doctor's most prominent expressions.
Maka couldn't help but laugh, catching it with the back of her hand. "Are you… is your name Layla?"
Her eyes went wide, but she buttoned her lips for a moment, eyes furtively glancing towards the back offices.
"Sorry, it's just– I work with your papa. Soul Evans, right?"
Layla still looked a little leery. "Who else do you work with?"
"Blake Star, Kilik Rung, Liz Thompson, Patty Thompson…" The list still brought that pleasant swell in her chest. "Ox Ford, Harvar–"
"What does Un– Blake look like?" she offered as her eyebrows softened slightly.
Maka laughed at her pick, thankful that it was the easiest to come to mind. "Kind of the same eyes as us. They're green, but sort of dull, you know? Until he gets angry, and then they seem to shine like a star."
Layla nodded. "So what's your name?"
"Oh–" Maka clipped that with a giggle. "I'm Maka Albarn. Blake and I have actually been friends since we were younger than you."
That helped her smile blossom, her eyes back to analyzing every inch of Maka. "And you met Papa? Were you at the party?"
She nodded. "He was nice."
That brought her hands together, working excitedly in her lap. "Papa doesn't go that often so I thought– you're the new friend, right? The one Uncle Blake said would–" She paused to glance at the hallway again, swiveling her head back as she found it empty. "Papa needs friends."
Maka smiled softly. "Well, so do I. I don't think it'll be hard being friends with Soul, so don't worry about that, Layla."
"Is that why you're here? To learn how to make friends?" Layla offered. "Dr. Marie and I talk about that sometimes."
She shook her head. "I'm here…" What do you tell a child? She's not a baby or anything, but what would she understand? "My mama died recently, so I came here to talk about it."
Without hesitation, Layla's hand fell on top of hers. "I'm sorry, Maka. That's scary." Gentle little fingers worked over Maka's knuckles. "Maybe you should talk to Dr. Marie then because she's helped me talk about losing my mommy and daddy."
Maka's eyes widened, her mouth gaping against her deeply set urge to keep it still. Mommy and daddy? But– but Soul said–
He appeared just as his name tumbled across her thoughts, his face a type of stone she'd never seen before. "Layla–" He paused, glancing between the two.
"Papa!" Layla jumped to attention, skipping across the rug to Soul's side. "This is your new friend, isn't it? Maka Albarn?"
Part of him unwound, some of that grey veneer chipping from his face. "I see you still don't understand stranger danger, huh?"
"She answered very specific questions," Layla corrected, frowning as Soul tweaked at her ear.
"You plannin' on stealin' her?" Soul glanced up at Maka, ignoring his daughter's fussing.
Maka waved innocent hands at him.
"Guess you're safe then." He moved to pinch her cheek, chuckling softly as she pouted. "Doc's ready for you, so go on." Layla tugged at his sleeve first, getting him to lean far enough that she could whisper in his ear. It was a short exchange, finishing with Soul planting a hand on her head with a sigh. "Go on."
Before disappearing into the hallway to the offices, Layla turned back for a moment to wave at Maka, something she couldn't help but return. "She's really sweet."
"Ah, yeah… warned you about gettin' your ear talked off though." Soul made slow steps towards the seats, picking the chair she'd found him in that first day. "Sorry if she…" He finished that with a shrug.
"No, it was nice." He wasn't looking at her, just studying his hands as he sat. Something isn't right. Maka cleared her throat. "She called Blake 'Uncle Blake'. Does she spend a lot of time with him?"
"Oh, once you get cleared, she calls you Aunt or Uncle." That brought a little warmth back to him, half a smile forming on his lips. "All the people you met at Blake's get that from her every time she sees 'em. It's sorta cute."
And you're 'Papa' even though you're not. That accusation tasted sour on her tongue, but she refused to spit it. "Um–"
"Ms. Albarn, the doctor's ready now," the dutiful voice piped from the glass enclosure.
"See ya." Soul finally lifted his eyes, something all wrong about the glow that was there, but it wasn't as if Maka had the time or the right to pry.
