I’ll Become the Sea by Rebecca Rogers Maher Read Free Book Online Page B

day. Those kids are lucky to have you during school hours. They don’t need to take up your whole night too.”
    “Or your night.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Nothing. Talk to you later. Say hi to Ana for me.”
    “Come on.”
    “It’s fine, Ben.”
    “I didn’t mean to be a jerk.” The muffled sound of his hand cupping the phone drowned out the blare of traffic. “I love you.”
    Jane closed her eyes. “I love you too.”
    *  *  *
    In the bathroom she ran hot water into the tub. A generous stream of bubble bath filled the room with a fine eucalyptus mist. The foggy mirror didn’t hide her tangled hair, her chapped lips, her grubby, dull skin. The fragrant steam of the bath drifted over her and she closed her eyes.
    She’d gone to a small school, populated by middle class kids and a few poor families from the outskirts of her rural town. She’d been a quiet child, lank-haired, drab. A dedicated student who was noticed, if at all, for her good grades and her dogged niceness.
    One morning as she settled herself into her desk, her teacher laid a hand on her shoulder. “Jane. May I have a word with you?”
    Jane looked up, surprised. “Sure.”
    Nestling her bookmark into her book, she rose and followed her teacher to the hallway. She bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong, racing back through her mind to find anything that warranted a talking-to.
    She held her hands in front of her, kneading at her fingers. They were dry and sore, eczema making the skin crack on her knuckles. It had been cold that morning at the bus stop. A trickle of blood seeped out from one knuckle and she covered it with her other hand, hiding it.
    “I have some good news.” Mrs. Tate’s face glowed with pleasure. “The play you wrote was selected by The Children’s Theater. They’re going to come to the school to perform it. Not just our school, but other schools too. Yours was the only play in the county chosen. Congratulations!”
    Jane’s eyes widened. “Wow.”
    Mrs. Tate rested her hand on the top of Jane’s head. “Yes, wow. We have our very own published author right here in Room 342.” She smoothed back Jane’s hair, patting her softly on the back. “Well done, honey. I am so proud of you.”
    Jane went back to her seat. She sat down and read the next two chapters of her book. Listening through the morning’s lessons, she went to music class and packed her coat and sandwich at lunchtime along with the other kids.
    At lunch, she slipped into the cafeteria bathroom and cried, leaning against the wall of the toilet stall. Mrs. Tate was proud of her.
    *  *  *
    Jane watched her face disappear in the steam on her bathroom mirror. She took a breath and stepped into the bath, easing down into the hot soapy water.
    She hadn’t even told her mother. Not until the week they came to perform the play. Linda said she’d try to make it, but at the end of that school day Jane came home and found her in bed. The kitchen sink was overflowing with dishes.
    Mrs. Tate was proud of her. Jane had that, and nothing could take it away from her.
    She sank down into the bubbles. It was why she became a teacher. It was why she put herself through what she did. To take what Mrs. Tate had done for her that year and pass it on.

Chapter Nine
    The club was small and dimly lit. Stepping in from the rainy night, Jane welcomed the warmth of the bar. She’d taken a taxi, alone, hoping to arrive late and attract as little attention as possible. It was heartening to see that the band had already begun setting up on the modest stage in back. She would be saved from nervous small talk, at least. No one there knew her and she was glad.
    Ordering a beer, she chose a seat to the side of the stage. The room was scattered with hipsters in pairs and groups, mostly standing, waiting for the band to begin playing. Some of them must have been friends of David’s. She felt self-conscious insinuating herself among them, as if they would see her