Page 48 of Fundamentals of Chemistry

I tried not to think about how we had such a nice time at the bonfire.

I tried not to think about how he kissed my brains out and then ran away, leaving me aroused and frustrated and embarrassed.

But try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I could still smell him on my skin. Taste him on my lips.

He acted like he was into me—talked to me for hours, then kissed and touched me until I was undone and aching. Then, when I tried to take things a step farther… full stop.

Stopping was the sensible thing to do. We could agree on that. But I had always had a hard time being sensible when it came to going after something I wanted. And I was having an even harder time wrapping my head around the blatant rejection.

And fucking hell, did I want Jack Cooper. Skin to skin. Between my legs. Inside me. All of the above.

After a fully justified “I told you so,” Silvia’s advice was less than satisfying.

Silvia: You can’t take your eye off the prize. He’s putting everything you worked for in jeopardy.

My friend was right, but her advice went against the bone-deep magnetism drawing me toward that man. The feeling was physical, yes—but it had grown to be so much more than that after weeks of pranking each other and talking for hours on Saturday night.

I left Silvia on read and spent the rest of Sunday sulking.

Immature as it was, I decided to employ the same strategy with Cooper. Even with my interest in him abundantly clear, he still shot me down in no uncertain terms. Obsessive—yes—but I wasn't so desperate that I needed to throw myself at him again and risk further embarrassment.

No. If he changed his mind, then it would be up to him to make the move.

Monday morning, I reviewed Friday’s exam results with my first period students, focusing on the most missed problems. Many students struggled to differentiate physical and chemical reactions, so I spent the bulk of my lesson reviewing chemical composition and states of matter.

Cooper entered the room within a moment of the bell signaling the end of class and strode straight up to me at the front of the room where I was erasing the whiteboard (with my personal eraser). The five seconds it took for him to cross the room were not nearly long enough for me to figure out what the hell I was going to say to him. All I could come up with was—don’t say anything embarrassing.

He stopped a respectful distance from me, but close enough that the students couldn’t overhear his low voice when he spoke.

“Hey.” It came out husky, as though this was the first time he had spoken today, and he cleared his throat. “Hey, I wanted to apologize to you for this weekend. I… behaved… unprofessionally. I shouldn’t have done… what I did.”

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms over my chest. “If you call your actions unprofessional, then what would you call mine?”

His face flushed, and I started to wonder if I had overstepped. Hadn’t I just decided I wasn’t going to embarrass myself?

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “I shouldn’t have… started… things… the way I did.”

Wait—was he embarrassed too? What did he have to be embarrassed about?

“I didn’t mind—” I started, and then cut myself off mid-sentence. What was I going to do? Scold him for rejecting me, or worse, beg him to give me another chance? It was better to say nothing.

“You should go,” he said. “I need to get my class started.”

Fuck. That was a clear dismissal if I had ever heard one.

“Right. Well, have a good class then.” I packed up my bag, careful not to rush away, and strode out of the room with my head high.

But when it was time to return for my third period class, I waited until the last possible moment to enter the classroom. I didn’t feel up to another confrontation today and needed to make sure he was definitely gone.

***

After lunch, I made my way to the administration building for a meeting with Headmaster Richmond. I said a quick “hello” to TJ, then took a seat in one of the hard chairs in front of Richmond’s sturdy, oak desk.

“Ms. Burke, thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me this afternoon. As you know, we are five weeks into the term, and I would like to check in on your progress to date.”

I clasped my hands in my lap and smiled my sunniest smile at the older man. I had a bit of a rocky start, but I knew my skills were improving day by day. I felt like I was even starting to develop my own style. I had felt pretty good when Richmond observed one of my classes a couple of weeks ago.