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“Oh God,” I gasped, arching my back.
“Why does it always feel so perfect?” Ellis murmured into my neck.
Damn, that lit me up as our mouths and bodies met in a slow grind.
“I’m gonna lose it.” He pressed his forehead to mine as he moaned and trembled, but I was too distracted with my own release bearing down on me. Stars floated in front of my eyes, my come mixing with his on my stomach.
Ellis said, “Let me get us something—”
“Wait,” I pleaded. “Don’t leave.”
So he settled against me despite our clammy, sticky skin. But it didn’t even matter as I pulled him tighter, our bodies relaxing as we floated into sleep.
20
Ellis
“How about your Venus flytraps? Did you follow my instructions to place the plants in a colder spot for the winter?”
“My mom didn’t believe me at first,” Chase said.
“Mine neither,” Bully Boy said. “I had to show her your instructions and explain that the plant was in hibernation until the spring.”
I smiled. I had to do the same with my plants at home.
“Okay, good. You also don’t need to feed them, though some of you will be tempted to find them flies or spiders.”
“How about a hamburger?” Chase blurted.
Some students laughed while others rolled their eyes.
“That won’t work—not unless you hide an insect in there.”
“Ewww,” some students replied collectively.
I chuckled, then explained so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings, “Joking aside, please be careful because human food will kill these plants. And the insects you choose should be much smaller than the trap you place them into. Otherwise, they might overwhelm the plant. Finally, try not to trigger the traps too often. They only open and close so many times before they fall off.”
I glanced at the flowers lined up on the back windowsill. “I’m looking forward to meeting some of your parents tonight during conferences.”
A few of the students groaned, while others looked anxious or excited.
Chase was a bit green as he shifted around, and he couldn’t look me in the eye. I wasn’t sure what that meant except maybe he was nervous about what the teachers would tell his mom about his school performance.
“I can see some of you are not looking forward to your parents hearing about your grades or antics. But the potted flowers might help smooth the way.”
There was nervous laughter.
“Believe me, I get it.”
“No way, Mr. Bloom. You were probably popular and got good grades,” one of my female students said.
“Well, you’d be wrong.” I sighed. “I used to struggle in school. I was impulsive, a bit hyper, talkative, and drove other kids and adults bonkers. But it wasn’t on purpose. I just didn’t know how to manage those symptoms.”
I was looking at stunned faces, but the one that stood out was Chase’s. Sympathy set up camp in my chest, and I didn’t want to get choked up, so I kept my eyes trained firmly on a poster I’d affixed on the back wall.
“Everyone has problems. You never know what someone is going through.”
There was a quiet murmur around the group.
“So I’m asking you to offer each other a little compassion and grace. Maybe if someone had shown it to me, I would’ve felt more accepted.” I walked around each table, meeting the gazes of the students, hoping they were hearing me. “Instead, I felt bad about myself, ostracized. It wasn’t until I found music that I finally felt like I connected with something. It focused me. I obviously have a love of plants too.”
“We didn’t notice,” the smartass student said.
“You play music?” Chase asked, seeming to look at me with new eyes.
I nodded. “You never know what new thing you might find out about someone unless you give them the time of day. Maybe you won’t seem cool or popular to your friends, but at least you won’t look like a jerk.”
“Oooh,” the kids exclaimed, and I rolled my eyes because it was such a middle school thing to do.
“I eventually got help for my struggles and found friends while doing stuff I loved. Mental health is as important as anything else.”
The class grew quiet as they watched me move around the room.
“And since we finished our flower projects to show your parents tonight, let’s go around and say one thing you’re good at or interested in that other kids might not know about you.”
Some kids listed sports, others art, and when it was Chase’s turn, he said, “Science and history. I like to know random facts about stuff.”
“We know,” the smartass in the group said.
“Can you list any cool science or history facts?” I asked the smartass kid.
“No.”
“How about basketball?”
“Yeah, of course. I just got done saying I’m good at it.”
“And you’ve never spouted off different team stats to anyone?”
He shrugged. “To other kids on my team.”
“And that’s your way of trying to find common ground. Maybe when you hear someone else blabbing away on a different subject, they’re doing the same thing—just trying to reach out.” I didn’t look at Chase. “Hoping they can connect with someone. It’s not so easy for everyone.”
