Page 14
An orgasm, most likely.
“Um…” a tiny headshake to banish the thoughts is executed, “prob a little number design for my kids.”
His head skeptically tilts to the side. “Kids but no Old Man?”
“They’re not my kids…but like they’re like my kids…because they’re mine. I know their likes. And dislikes. And who clearly only gets a bath when they’re at Mom’s house or packed their own lunch because Dad was too busy making spontaneous travel arrangements to leave the country or get something brought into the country, which is why it’s filled with eight goldfish and a melted popsicle.” A second headshake occurs; however, this one is in amusement, “Honestly, I spend more time with them than most of their parents do, so yeah I think of them as mine even they aren’t mine, you know?”
“No.”
Light laughter out of me results in the same from him. “I teach first grade during the school year and then this writing course each summer along with some private English tutoring sessions for anyone who needs it – no limit on age.”
Interest returns to his focused gaze. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you teach instead of taking the summers off?”
“Um…because I have no life?” The mirth filled cringe is more awkward and uncomfortable than humorful. “Because I don’t know how to have a life? Because the only person who ever encouraged me to have one died before I ever got the hang of it?” More nervous giggles leaking free precedes my segue, “Hence why I would insist in my letter to my future self that she keeps the one she’s managed to build because I know she’s doing all the things I only dream about doing.”
Hogan releases a soft hum. “What else do you wanna do?”
“Um…I…I…I don’t…really,” shrinking into myself is accompanied by a meek end to the sentence, “know…”
“Ever been tubing?”
“Like the big donut thing in the water?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you kidding me?” One hand quickly flies across my chest. “Bouncing around in rubber to my watery death? Wearing a swimsuit? Showing that much skin? Inviting the sun to touch places it hasn’t basically since birth? No.” Frantic headshakes cause him to chuckle. “No. And even if I wanted to-”
“But clearly you don’t.”
“-who would do that with me?! I don’t even have friends!”
“I would.”
Two words.
That’s all it takes.
Two simple words and not only am I speechless, I’m longing.
Longing and reminded how lonely I’ve truly let life become since Gam Gam died.
How lonely I truly am now.
And more pathetically?
How lonely I’ll always be.
Chapter 3
Emaline
Anticipating the end of our “Get To Know Your Teacher Chapter” of our discussion, I prepare to find an exit topic when the male I have no business being close to asks, “You like birds?”
Huh.
