She was gone, and the only thought that kept circling in my head was ‘how could I find her again?’
Nine
Lumen
I’d thoughtthat my new job would monopolize enough of my time that I wouldn’t be able to spend it thinking about Alec. I was wrong.
It had been almost a full week since my…encounter with him, but the way my brain kept obsessing over it, it was like it’d happened last night. Then again, in a way, it did because every night, the moment I closed my eyes, I saw it again. Felt it. Experienced every bit of sensory overload as if it was happening for the first time. No matter how exhausted I made myself, I always dreamed of it and woke gasping, my body right on the brink of something explosive.
I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what a climax was. I’d just never experienced one. Privacy had never been easy to come by in foster care. Shared bedrooms. Shared bathrooms, usually with a limited supply of hot water. I’d never considered it important enough to actively seek out the time and space to try to work myself up to one. I’d never thought I was missing something until I’d run away from Alec.
I hadn’t told Mai. She’d asked what had happened, of course, and I’d given her a partial truth. I’d told her that Alec and I had made out for a bit, but I hadn’t wanted things to go too fast so I’d asked him to take me home. She’d been impressed that he hadn’t tried to pressure me into something more, especially since it’d seemed like things had been heating up between us. When she asked about why he hadn’t called, I’d told her that I hadn’t given him my number. At least that was the truth.
Once my awkward conversation with her was over, I’d tried to focus on my work. School didn’t start until next Tuesday, but most people didn’t realize how much prep work went into getting a classroom and curriculum ready for a new school year. I’d spent this past week meeting the other teachers and faculty, getting used to the school layout, and putting the finishing touches on my lesson plans. Thanks to some plumbing issues, I hadn’t been able to get into my classroom until today, but as soon as I’d come in this morning, I’d been told it was ready for me.
In college, I’d taken several foreign language classes in anticipation of working at a low-income school. I’d had my mind set on teaching kids who’d grown up like me. Instead, I’d found myself offered a position at a fairly prestigious elementary school. I’d gone to the interview prepared to make a list of all the reasons this school wasn’t what I wanted. Then the school board had complimented a paper I’d done my last year of college on the subject of the responsibilities of the privileged to those less fortunate and how that way of thinking needed to start in elementary school. They’d offered me the chance to put my theories into practice with my own class, and I hadn’t been able to resist.
As soon as I stepped into my room, I was grateful that the secretary had given me directions rather than walking with me, because my expression when I saw my classroom for the first time was nothing short of gob-smacked. Hardwood floors and paneled walls. South-facing windows that would let in plenty of natural light. Bookshelves filled with beautifully bound books, classics as well as popular newer titles. Sturdy chairs and tables that were made of actual wood rather than the usual particle board, as well as the latest in fidget and sensory furniture. My desk looked like something out of a study rather than a handed down, battered piece of metal. The chair was ergonomically and aesthetically pleasing.
It was more than I’d ever could have imagined, and it took me a few minutes to process enough to start unpacking my things. Posters went on the walls with the command strips the school provided. Then came the bulletin board, a welcome message to the students that was both fun and informative. I’d carefully chosen everything the kids would see, knowing that what they saw when they came into the classroom for the first time would set up their entire year, for good or for bad.
Once I’d finished with my desk, I moved to the Smart Board. We’d used them in some of my education classes and the school where I’d done my student teaching had had one, but this one was mine, and I wanted to be well-acquainted with it by the time I used it in class.
As I practiced writing, the music on my phone changed, and a new song started playing. Instantly, I was back at MacLean’s, swaying to the beat, Alec’s hands on my hips. And then his hands were somewhere else. And his mouth…
I hadn’t been drunk, and by all accounts, I should have turned him down again after what he’d done at work, but I hadn’t turned him away. I hadn’t stopped him from kissing me. I’d gone with him to his car, knowing that things would be going further than some dancing and fairly chaste kissing. And I’d let things go further than that once we were in the back seat.
Dammit! I shook my head. This was the last place in the world it was appropriate to be thinking about these things. At least right now, my classroom was empty. But on Tuesday, as soon as school officially started, I’d have a class of impressionable third graders watching every move I made.
I needed to stop thinking about him, about what we’d done. It’d been a rash decision brought about by stress and enough alcohol to make my head fuzzy.
Except…there’d been a connection between us. I’d had guys touch my hand, my shoulder. I’d danced with a few. I wasn’t a nun or anything like that. But not a single one of those men had ever made me want more. And I definitely wanted more of him.
Morein a way I’d never had anyone before.
Part of it was physical, and while that made my entire body heat up with combined arousal and embarrassment, sex wasn’t the reason I was scared. Sure, I was nervous about it, about letting myself be physically vulnerable, but it was what wentbeyondthe physical that had my insides twisting.
I’d spent my life in crowds and never being seen. Foster homes where kids slept on floors and couches so the ‘parents’ could collect as many checks as possible. Schools where the student to teacher ratios were impossible, and good kids got lost in the shuffle. A group home with other kids who were too old, and no one wanted.
No one had wanted me for anything good until I’d met Mai. Even my parents had had enough of me by the time I was seven when, after years of ignoring and neglecting me, they’d signed me over to the state. I’d always been a burden. A paycheck. Something to mess with.
And then Mai had embraced me and took me home to her family. The Jins liked me and included me in all of their holidays and family events, but I was always aware of being an outsider. Of not belonging. Not really. Not because of anything they did, but because of something that was missing.
If someone had ever asked me to name what that something was, I couldn’t have done it. I didn’t know what it was, only that it existed…and it always reminded me that I was alone. That no one would want me.
Except I’d seen it in Alec’s eyes. He wanted me. Yes, physically, but more than that. If he’d only wanted sex, he wouldn’t have danced with me in the first place. He’d never pushed me, not once. He’d stopped as soon as he’d realized that I wasn’t into it anymore. I hadn’t exactly stuck around to see how he took me freaking out, but when he’d yelled after me, he hadn’t sounded angry.
It would’ve made me have hope if I’d actually heard from him since.
Then I reminded myself that he didn’t have my number and that I needed to focus on my job. On reality and not the fantasy I’d always promised myself I wouldn’t indulge in.
I sighed. This was not how I’d wanted today to go.
Suddenly, the back of my neck prickled, and my spine stiffened. I didn’t hear anything or see anyone, but I felt like I was being watched and I’d learned to always take those sorts of gut feelings seriously. I looked over at the door to the classroom and saw the vice principal of Kurt Wright School leaning against the doorway, smiling impishly.
He was only a few inches taller than me, and skinny, with a buzz-cut of wheat-colored hair and an ill-fitting slate-gray suit. I hadn’t officially met him, but he’d been pointed out to me by another teacher earlier today. The way Siobhan had quickly turned us down a different hallway before he could see us told me that Vice Principal Cornelius Harvey was as unpleasant as his name made him sound. She hadn’t told me anything specific, but I had my theories.
“You should use the brush vertically,” he said when I looked at him.
