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That’s what we were, right?
I remained frozen, though. His arms wrapped around me and I finally returned the hug after a moment of stillness that lasted far too long. He was so much bigger than I remembered him. I knew the hug was innocent but I couldn’t help but to breathe in his smell and take note of the way his arms felt around my waist. He laughed effortlessly and I felt his chest rumble with it, like thunder against my own.
If I was a whipping wind, he was a sea breeze.
I should respond. I know I should respond. I should tell him it’s good to see him and ask how he is. Reference the cold and cloudy weather and ask why on earth he’d leave Hawaii for it. I couldn’t seem to get the words through my esophagus and out of my mouth, though.
I wasn’tthathappy to see him. Truth be told, he picked the worst possible time to walk into my workplace. Based on the shock in his voice when he said my name, he had no clue I worked here either.
Any other time I’d be able to shake off old feelings and exchange pleasantries. But now I’m twenty-three, I’d been withdrawn from the greatest University on earth, rejected from their grad program.Living with my parents.Working a job that I only got becausehisdad set it up for me. The list could go on. I knew if I opened my mouth, he may ask me questions that would require me to disclose how my life was really going, and I couldn’t stomach that in addition to just seeing him here in the flesh.
Mr. Collins cleared his throat, a silent reminder that public displays of affection of any kind are not permitted on school premises, even if you’re running into someone you haven’t seen in five years, apparently. Carter and I both stepped back from each other, “See? Like I said, a twist of fate.” I struggled to pull my eyes away from Carter’s stare to look at Collins. He seemed to read my expression. “I just mean– You know, what are the odds that you both are so talented in your respective fieldsandthat you two are already friends? It’s a perfect combination.”
I hated that he used the wordfieldsbecause art wasnotmyfield. Art was not even something I did for fun. Not something I thought about. Once upon a time, I liked to draw when I was bored. That was it. But my mother had been an artist all her life and given that neither of my siblings ever took it up, she hung tightly onto that future for me. While I used to find it therapeutic and relaxing, it was never a career path for me.
“We grew up together.” My eyes shot up to Carter’s face, catching him as he smiled at Collins. To anyone else the smile seemed easy, genuine. It was fake. Carter’s real smiles would stand a room to attention. Would knock the wind out of any poor, unsuspecting woman who found herself on the other end of it. I would know. I’d been said poor, unsuspecting woman a time or two.
“Yes, your father mentioned that. Now, if you’ll both follow me; I’d like to show you the art room, let you take a look around.” Collins stood and led us out of his office and into the courtyard at the center of the school, and I realized I had never officially agreed. As Collins walked down the lengthy hallway that led towards the art studio, he said, “Miss Mason, I’d like to ask if you’d be Mr. Edwards’s guide on his first few weeks at the school. Ensure he gets acquainted with other staff, knows where to find the things he needs, and that he’s comfortable.”
“Of course,” I found myself blurting out. I tried not to look at Carter as I said it, but my eyes moved on their own, just as my mouth had. I no longer had control of my body. He smiled, fake again. He dipped his head slightly in gratitude.
We stepped into the studio. It was a large, open room with paneled windows looking out over the parking lot. Tables scattered throughout the middle of the room, while the perimeter held countertops overflowing with art supplies. To the right of the door was another door that led to a small office, hardly large enough for one person, let alone two.
I tried to ignore the intensity of his presence as I watched Collins open the cabinets and closets, explaining where we’d find all the supplies we needed. He handed us each a packet with a syllabus and detailed lesson plan for the semester. He promised we’d each get to shadow Katie for the remainder of the week to learn the ropes.
Normally, I’d be extremely overwhelmed by the thought of teaching classes all my own. I didn’t even want to be a teacher. I don’t even like kids that much. Yet, I didn’t have it in me to care right now. All the fear inside my body was fixated on the presence of the man standing next to me. Every emotion in my body, actually. I discreetly (maybe not so discreetly) glanced at him just in time to watch him lick his lips.Dammit.Why does he look so good?
“I’ll leave the two of you to look around, get acclimated with the space. Miss Mason, I told Mrs. Arnold you’d be back by next period to assist her with the last class of the day,” Collins said. I pretended to sort through a basket of paint, nodding absently. “Mr. Edwards, Mrs. Carlson has already left for the day since her classes have finished. Why don’t you just shadow Miss Mason next period so she has a chance to introduce you to the other school staff?”
“Sure,” he said. I felt his eyes on me but refused to look up from the box of paint. My brain rapidly tried to think of a question, a comment, a concern. Anything to stall Collins from walking out of that room. The tornado in my mind returned to its reign of terror as the clicking of Mr. Collins’ loafers faded down the hallway.
We were alone.
Against my internal pleas, my mind thought back to the last time I was alone in a room with Carter. My stomach twisted in knots beneath me, my breath became shallow and rapid. Feeling the need to separate my body from my mind, I quickly stepped back from the counter I was facing. So quickly that I knocked a bottle of red paint from the counter, watching it fall to the floor and break open. The bottle was old, mostly empty and dried out, but there was just enough paint left inside to splatter onto the floor after the lid popped off.
Some of the paint sprayed across my foot, seeping into the fabric of my shoe. Mywhiteshoe. It almost kind of looked like a flower, one of those abstract ones where the artist just splatters the paint onto the canvas but it still ends up pretty when they’re done. I watched the paint as it rolled over millimeter after millimeter of the fabric, sucking in all the white and coating it in red. Thick, red liquid.
I felt the contents of my stomach spin inside me as the scene set in.It looks like blood.My chest began to tighten, and I felt lightheaded as I squat down behind the counter and examined my foot. I moved my hand forward to wipe it off, but my body jerked and stopped before my fingers could reach it, so I grabbed the bottle of paint from the floor instead. I breathed through my nose and out my mouth. I did it again.It’s just paint. It’s not blood. Just paint.
The bell rang, signaling the end of the class period. I shot up from the floor in a flurry and slammed my hip against the side of the chair, causing it to slide across the tiled floor. Carter, who’d been facing away from me and looking through a box of digital cameras provided by the district, spun around at the sound of the screeching chair. He raised a brow and opened his mouth as if to ask me something when the classroom door flew open.
“Holy shit. I ran straight in here the minute my prep started.” She paused for not even half a second. “Well, that’s not true. I ran straight to Christine, who then informed me I’d find you here. Which begs the question, why are you here? What happened with your meeting with Collins? Did you get fired? Well, of course not. Right? If you’d been fired you wouldn’t be here, in the art room, and–” Macie stopped. Her mouth was already speed boating before she’d fully entered the room, not long enough to allow her to take in her surroundings. By the time she had, she’d lost her words as she stared, mouth gaping, at Carter. “Hi,” she said, finally.
“Hello,” he replied, his most charming grin rising from the corner of his mouth.
“Do you work for the school district?” she asked.
“I do not.” He smiled.
“Board of education? The State of Oregon?”
He shook his head.
“Are you in any way involved with any organization or person who may be able to fire me from my job?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
She grinned. Whipping around to face me. “Penny, can you please explain to me what is going on? Why were you called into a private meeting with Collins today? Why are you now in the art studio, instead of your classroom, with some random, stupidly hot, man?”
