One day after school, near the end of the year, I stayed late to get some books from the library. Some stupid English project on Beowulf, and I didn’t want to work with other students making videos. It would have been hard for me to explain my absences at home as it was, so I asked my teacher if I could write a paper instead and she agreed. As I came out of the library, my arms full of books and not paying attention, I slammed right into Mr. Hamilton. Books and papers flying up into the air like a cyclone, I landed on the floor, banging my head pretty hard. I saw stars, but not only that. In my addled mind, as Mr. Hamilton was picking me up off the floor and asking me if I was okay, I kissed him. I freaking kissed him or, rather, our lips met. I kept hoping it wasn’t totally initiated on my part, but I knew that wasn’t true. I remembered them tasting cool, wet, and soft, his bottom lip sticking out slightly. As we kissed, I felt his hands roam my body and push me against the brick hallway, gripping my thigh so acutely, I remembered having a set of fingerprint bruises for days afterwards. I traced those bruises for the remaining days, matching my fingers to his prints watching them fade, and secretly loving them. My core tingled every time I looked at them. I’m not sure how much of the memory is totally accurate and how much I’m horrifically romanticizing. The kiss was so tender and fleeting, the only other memory that overpowers it was when he pushed me back, horrified, and proceeded to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, looking me over, disgusted. What the hell had possessed me to do such a thing? Had I even done it? I mean, I’d like to think I hit my head pretty hard on those linoleum tiles. All I know is that the taste of cool, icy, winter mint gum became my best, my worst, and my last memory of high school. I still get flashes of heat every time I see that gum flavor in the drugstore.
“Edie. Earth to Edie?” Aiden sounds like an annoying broken record, scratching the skipped beats.
“Hmm?” I drift out of my reverie slowly, wondering when I might have enough spare money for some mint ice cream so I can relive that kiss alone in my apartment.
Thunk.
“What the…?” Aiden had thrown a mostly clean french fry at my face, splashing a glob of gravy and cheese in my eye and, likely, my hair. Giggling, Shelby hands me a napkin as I give my two best friends a death stare. “Real classy, Aiden.” I wipe the gravy from my face, tossing the napkin at Aiden, who ducks. In my heated anger, I don’t notice Mr. Hamilton and Dean Andrews walking by us. Dean Andrews walks up to the diner register. Mr. Hamilton picks up the napkin I threw at Aiden, which had landed on the floor, and places it on the table next to my hand.
“Don’t forget right here, Miss Willows. You, uh…missed a spot.” Mr. Hamilton gently brushes my cheek with his thumb. Oh, holy hell! I want to die right there. He actually takes his thumb and puts it in his mouth, sucking the gravy off. I think my stomach rippled, like a stone skipping over a pond, before my brain reengaged in semi-conduciveness.
“T-thanks.” I grab the napkin and furiously brush my cheek.
“See you on Tuesday,” he says before turning to walk away.
“Is there a quiz?” Shelby calls out, making Mr. Hamilton turn back around, and Dean Andrews is watching us.
Eyes wide, I look at her and mouth, WHAT THE HELL?
“Actually, there is. Make sure Miss Willows studies extra hard.” Mr. Hamilton walks out with Dean Andrews and I sink into my seat. Did he have to say it like that? I swear he enunciated the words extra hard on purpose.
“Thanks!” Shelby, with her usual bubbly attitude, calls back and waves. Mr. Hamilton keeps walking, but sticks his arm in the air and waves back.
“Seriously, I’m going to kill you, Shelby.” It isn’t possible to sink lower in my seat as we watch them walk back towards campus.
“Well, now that he’s touched you, you’ll have some
thing to master…,” Shelby says as Aiden bumps his water into her lap, making her jump up, squealing.
“OKAY!” I yell at her, drawing more unwanted attention to myself.
“I didn’t need to know that. I’ll make sure I text before we come over,” Aiden mumbles, clearly as embarrassed as I am. I put my arms over my head, trying to forget my two best friends sitting in front of me and smiling like idiots.
Chapter Four
Jack
The week has been a busy one between managing my company and clients, as well as teaching the Statistics course on Tuesday. Edith Willows has tormented me the entire time just sitting there quietly and pretending we didn’t have a past together, as brief as it was. Now that it is finally Thursday, I go to get my flu shot, recalling Edith had skipped my class. The overly helpful nurse at the student clinic wants to take my shirt off for just a damn flu shot when I can just simply roll up my sleeve. Amanda, my on again/off again girlfriend, flew back and stopped over the other night, before heading back out again. The sex all-nighter was probably what I needed to purge Edith from my mind. My dick was sated, for the time being, and Amanda walked out on unsteady legs, which pleased me immensely. I was about to leave the clinic with my flu shot paperwork for HR when I hear my familiar pain in the ass student who cut class earlier today.
“Miss, I really think you should continue to lie down until you feel better. At least drink more juice.” I spin around and see a very pale Edith pushing a nurse away, wobbling to a plastic chair in the waiting room.
“I’m fine. I just need the bus to get to work.” Edith grabs the chair and slumps forward, her head rolling like a rag doll.
“Edith, take it easy. Are you alright? Is it the flu?” I grab her by her upper arms to hold her up. I notice how frail she seems to be under my touch. “Edith, stay with me. Come on.” I lean her back, propping her up against the wall. “Edith, keep your eyes open.” This position is all too hauntingly familiar for me, and I try to hold myself back and keep her standing upright.
“Sh’um fine, Mr. H.” She tries pushing my hand away, but can’t even get her arm up with any force.
“No offence, but you look like shit, Edie.” I decide holding her close will have to suffice; otherwise, she might wiggle in my arms, causing more problems than I care to deal with right now.
“You never call me that. It’s always Edith with you.” She keeps slurring her words and I look up at the nurse for some assistance.
“She’s just given plasma. Are you a friend or relative? She’s never had this kind of reaction before.”
“She’s done this before?” I look back at Edith. If it is even possible, she looks more waxen and pale. I wonder what would make Edith have to give plasma like this.
“Like clockwork, sir. Oh, and before I forget, here’s the twenty dollar gift card we give all our plasma donors.”
“Donors?” I look between the two of them. Edith looks like she barely weighs the minimum to donate anything.