1
GRACIE
I’mtwenty years old and I’m faking my way back into high school. Who in their right mind would do that?
Well, I would.
And not because I’m excited to brush up on the history of the Roman Empire. It’s because Chris started teaching here this year. Chris, my dad’s best friend and the man I’m desperately obsessed with.
I’ve known him for years. He was always that guy who brought hot dogs to the barbeque and came over for movie nights. He looked out for me like he was my second father and even carried me home from soccer one day when I sprained my ankle.
But now that I’m older, he’s the man who makes my thighs press together at the dinner table. Who flashes me that dashing, fantasy-hero smile that he has and gives me goosebumps all over.
Last week when he came by, I dropped the potato salad when I caught a glimpse of his muscled back as he swapped shirts on the back patio. He was so nice about it, despite it being obviousthat I was so nervous around him. He even helped me sweep up the broken glass.
Chris coming over is a double-edged sword. On one hand, I get to be around him and let that part of me that has been dying to see him go free. But on the other hand, just seeing him makes me burn for days, dreaming of him, closing my eyes and touching myself all over, pretending it’s him.
I know he’s off-limits. He’s thirty-four. I’m only twenty, and he’s Dad’s best friend, so I tried pushing him out of my head by going on a bunch of app dates. But they all ended with me wanting to jump into a pit of hungry anacondas.
Guys and me are like oil and water. We just don’t mesh. But something about Chris has me feeling constantly hungry. Desperately thirsty. There’s this painful longing in my center, and I know thatheis the only one who can quench it.
Now wearing my plaid skirt and knee socks that I bought from the thrift store along with a white dress shirt and green tie, I chew my lower lip and stare at the faded brick walls of Pine Hills Prep.
I’m holding a forged transfer order that I fabricated on my computer. My plan is to hand it in at the office and hope they don’t see right through me.
Yeah, this is absolutely unhinged, but I can’t help myself.
The front doors to the century-old building open like a dark portal to a new dimension, one where I don’t belong. Not only do I have a diploma from Blue Forks, the localpublichigh school I attended, but I’m also about a thousand tax brackets beneath everyone here.
You can practically smell the money in the air. Vaulted ceilings, handcrafted wood paneling, portraits of famous graduates lining the walls. The wealth-privilege presses down on me like a sweaty giant’s palm, but I square up my shoulders and stride down the hall like I own the place.
Girls eye me as I pass, muttering to each other just loud enough for me to hear.
“Who isthat?”
“Is she new here?”
“Why does her uniform look so ratty?”
“Is that even in dress code?”
I smirk to myself. Whoever asked that is right; my skirt is definitely not in adherence with dress code. They’re supposed to be knee-length, but mine stops mid-thigh. Someone’s bound to reprimand me for wearing it…
…and that’s the point.
I’m not going to lie—this is kind of thrilling. Sure, I’m terrified as I step into the office and hand my totally legitimate transfer paper to the lady behind the desk. She’s scrolling on her phone and barely gives it a second look before typing something on the computer and handing it back to me.
“Welcome to Pine Hills, Ms. Williams.”
Wiping the sweat from my forehead with my wrist, I stuff the order back into my bag. “Thank you.”
My ears are hot as I go back into the hall. Just knowing Chris is somewhere in this building has me on edge, checking every door and every corner as I walk, just on the chance that I might see him.
Thank God I wore a bra today too. My nipples are hard and my toes are tingling against the tight leather of my shoes.
He’s here somewhere. I feel his presence like an invisible force tugging at me, pulling, whispering words in my ear I’ve been desperate for him to say out loud.
It may sound like I’m some devilish girl with an overactive sexual appetite, but in reality, the furthest I’ve gone with a boy was when I kissed Jacob Glidden behind the maple tree in first grade on a dare. He screamed “Ew!” and ran home.
