Beautifully Broken

I take a long shower to ward off the chill. It’s a little early but I decide to head into school since I have nothing better to do. I make my way through the breakfast line in the cafeteria and glance up at my seating options. Since it’s so early, most of the tables are empty. As I scan the room, I happen to spot the one person that I shouldn’t be seen with. Despite this, I find myself heading toward him. He’s standing against the wall observing the students so I choose the table directly in front of him.

As I take a seat, I say, “Good morning, Mr. Cooper.”

My back is to him so I can’t see his expression but I imagine he’s smirking. “Good morning, Miss Kennedy. What are you doing here so early?”

I shrug. “I’m taking advantage of my free breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day, you know.”

“I’ve heard that a time or two.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

He chuckles. “Apparently at McKinley, the new guy gets stuck with cafeteria duty a lot. I’m on the schedule three days this week.”

“Is that the administration’s subtle way of hazing?”

“It’s not so bad at the moment,” he replies quietly. “Potentially dangerous, but not unpleasant.”

I preen a little. “Really?”

“I take that back,” he says stiffly.

Huh? It only takes a second for me to comprehend as Dylan sits at my table.

“Hey, Kitty. You’re looking mighty fine this morning, as always.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, hyperaware of the man standing within earshot.

He smiles. “What? You’re not going to return the compliment?” He motions to himself. “You know you’re dying to tell me how hot I am.”

I laugh. Dylan’s cockiness is definitely a constant. “Yet somehow I refrain.”

He leans over the table and presses the back of his hand to my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Mr. Taylor,” a deep voice grumbles behind me. “Didn’t I already warn you about keeping your hands to yourself?”

Dylan looks over my shoulder and narrows his eyes. “Mr. Cooper, I believe what you said was, ‘Keep your hands where I can see them.’”

I stifle a giggle because I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what he said. Gavin doesn’t seem to appreciate the reminder.

“Don’t make me say it again, Mr. Taylor.” I see him walking to the other side of the room out of the corner of my eye.

“Seriously what the hell is that guy’s problem?” Dylan gripes. “He’s been riding my ass all week.”

“Maybe the PDA policies were much stricter at his last school,” I offer lamely.

He scoffs. “Or more likely, he’s just an asshole. This is going to be a long year.”

You could say that again, I think. Gavin and I set clear boundaries that I’m already pushing. Sure, some of his comments weren’t entirely professional earlier, but I was the one who sat so close in the first place. I need to remind myself that being within whispering range is too intimate. Neither one of us seems able to control ourselves around each other. And that’s not a good thing, I remind myself. Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll start believing it.

I SOMEHOW MANAGE TO MAKE IT THROUGH the rest of September without any further student/teacher transgressions. I can’t say I haven’t thought about Gavin but keeping our distance seems to be working. In class, he treats me like any other student. He doesn’t ignore me, but he respects our invisible boundary lines. It really is as if we met on the third day of school. Hopefully one of these days, my hormones will get the memo. Those still react as strongly as ever whenever we’re in the same room. And many nights when I’m alone in bed remembering his touch.

Sadly, I’ve also ended the month without a viable means to support myself. Every place that’s hiring only needs someone to fill shifts during school hours. All except one, that is. I stare at the purple neon sign proudly boasting, “The Finest Gentleman’s Club on the Oregon Coast”. As if that’s something to be proud of? I take a fortifying breath and open the doors to The Pitiful Princess. I’m surprised by the brightness inside. It’s only four o’clock so they’re not open for business yet, but for some reason, I expected the place to be much darker.

A bald giant right inside the door asks, “May I help you?”

“Um…” Am I really going to do this? “I’m here to see Marcus.”

Mr. Clean smiles. “I see. Are you here for a job interview, honey?”