Masks Always Fall

Chapter 24

With a heavy heart, I shouldered open the familiar door to her classroom after school, dreading yet another charged encounter with Julianne. These mandatory session had become my own personal purgatory this week - seeing her wounded gaze each time we were forced together, only to retreat once more behind my self-imposed barriers.

Yet as I glanced over to her accustomed seat, I froze at the unexpected sight greeting me. Julianne sat with her head cradled in her hands, elegant fingers tangled tightly in silky locks. Even from here I could see the tension radiating from her hunched form, shoulders rising and falling rapidly with unshed emotion.

For a moment I forgot all defenses, concern flooding me at her uncharacteristic display of vulnerability. What could have caused such a fierce unraveling in my strong, beautiful teacher?

As if sensing my stare, Julianne's head lifted sharply, eyes locking with mine through a shimmering sheen. She gave a watery smile that destroyed me, all composure cracking under her obvious plea - to listen, to understand.

"Are you... okay?" My concern wavered under the steely glint that hardened Julianne's eyes as she replied.

"I'm fine, Emma. Come, have a seat. You need to retake your test from yesterday - you bombed it, as I'm sure you recall."

Her curt tone, so devoid of the empathy that once colored our interactions, gave me pause. But I obeyed silently, senses on high alert for clues to her strange mood.

As I withdrew paper and pen, I noted the fatigue etched into her features, the red rims hinting at recent tears. Whatever caused such raw anguish, she clearly wasn't ready to share. Yet the steely clench of her jaw showed anger simmering beneath the surface too.

Somehow, despite all my avoidance, her turmoil still involved me deeply. I itched to comfort, to understand, yet she'd slammed her walls up solid once more.

I struggled to concentrate on equations and figures swimming meaninglessly before my eyes, not with the dozens of questions swirling in my mind. Julianne's stony silence only heightened the tension buzzing between us like a live wire.

Finally, needing some anchor in the storm, I risked a simple question. "What...what is your favorite song?"

Her penetrating stare met mine, one elegant eyebrow arched in silent challenge. For a moment I regretted breaking our fragile truce, expecting harsh reprimand.

Instead, she surprised me by answering evenly, "Cyclone, by baby bash. Now get back to work, Emma, or you'll be here all night."

I blinked, processing not just her words but the tacit olive branch extended.

As I refocused on my test, her unexpected answer replaying in my mind, curiosity nudged me again.

"Cyclone by Baby Bash?" I asked casually without looking up. "That's an ... interesting choice."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her lips quirk slightly in amusement. "It has... personal significance," she offered enigmatically.

I pondered that, wondering what memories or inside jokes the nostalgic mid-2000s hip hop hit held for her. Our small exchange lifted some of the weighty tension, reminding me of easier days when musical tastes were shared freely between us.

Risking a glance, I found her watching me attentively though without hostility now. Progress, however slight, sparked hope anew that understanding could be rebuilt over time through patience and care, not shutdowns and distance.

"Okay, my turn. What is your favorite song?"

Julianne's question caught me off guard, as her genuine curiosity in my answer. Under her intent gaze, I hesitated briefly before replying softly, "Numb by Linkin Park."