CHAPTER 3
The bell ringing is jarring, but also has my body relaxing. I’m glad I only have one more class until lunch. The day isn’t even halfway over and I’m exhausted.
It didn’t used to be this way, I don’t think. Or was it? It’s hard to remember since it feels like the months since I was shot, while I’ve been in recovery mode, feels like such a big portion of my life. I know it has really been just a drop in the grand scheme of things bucket. Still, the initial pain and then how much effort I’ve put into PT, how much rest has been required, and how I’ve had to change my routine have made it feel so much bigger.
I’ve been in a tunnel for so long. I could have sworn there was no light at the end of it, but now I can see it. Hell, I can feel the warmth of the sun warming the air of the darkness around me. That’s how close I am to being at the end of this journey.
I’m days away from seeing my, hopefully, last PT session and my check-in with my doctor.
Even better than that, I feel so much better.
Not having any energy as I was healing, especially at first, was so damn hard. I’ve always been pretty active in my life, but it felt like exhaustion became my best friend right after the shooting. It took forever for me to feel like I had even a little bit of control over my life.
Things are better now, but sometimes being tired and a bone deep ache can sneak up on me. It’s a reminder of everything that happened and the day my life changed completely. Then there’s my scar.
I shake my head as my students start to file into the classroom. I almost cringe as I watch them. Freshman year is rough, and my students are clearly being weighed down by the year. I’m grateful as hell that the end of the school year is close.
Was I ever this gangly and awkward? I know I was. Hell, Wrenley would pull out some pictures and show me every single reminder she could get her hands on if she were here right now. That would be…unfortunate.
Colt flashes me a smile, one he probably thinks is sexy and flirty, as he makes his way to his desk. I barely stop myself from rolling my eyes. For the most part, my students have been amazing as I’ve been recovering, but a few of them are assholes. If I could place a bet on it, I’m sure they’re going to be that way for their whole lives.
When it comes to Colt, he’s the kind of guy who thinks he’s a gift to womankind. Somehow, that includes me. How? I have no fucking idea.
Sure, I’m not all that much older than my students, but I’m in a completely different place in my life and none of these pubescent teens do a damn thing for me. He wouldn’t have been my type back when I was in high school either.
He’s that typical cocky guy who wants attention and popularity to fall at his feet. He’s on the football team and while he’s not a starter, I’m sure he’ll work his way up in the team. I’m already annoyed at the kind of guy he’ll be when he’s a senior.
“Hey, Ms. C,” Colt exclaims. “You’re looking good today,” his voice is flirty which is just gross and wrong on so many levels.
I keep my face neutral and blank. “Colt, I see you’re in a mood today. Let’s curb that considering you need to concentrate in class today.”
I arch my eyebrow and hope he can read between the lines. His last essay was complete trash and I’m not even trying to be nice when I think that. It’s such a shame because he’s clearly a smart kid. He could be doing really well in my class if he simply applied himself.
I’ve known guys like him my entire life. Peaking in high school is not an accomplishment.
He huffs out a laugh like I’m joking with him, but the deadpan look on my face has his smile dropping. With a slow nod he admits, “Yeah. I got you Ms. C.” He lowers his voice and something vulnerable flashes on his face. “I know I didn’t give my last essay all the focus I could have, but I like this book so much better.”
I chuckle softly and crack a smile. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. Romeo and Juliet is a little harder to get through because of the language and the use of iambic pentameter.” The look of confusion on his face has me rolling my eyes; like we didn’t cover that fully during the unit. We did, but here we are. “Guys tend to like Huckleberry Finn more.”
Colt’s eyes light up as he nods eagerly. I’m glad he’s connecting with something this year. I’ll admit I was a little afraid he, along with a few of my other students, wouldn’t be able to connect with any of the books we’re reading this year.
Teaching has always been my dream. Seeing my students connect with what I’m teaching is just as rewarding as I always thought it would be. English and reading have always been loves of mine and I was lucky enough to have some amazing teachers who really made what they were teaching come alive.
I’ve always been a little worried I would never live up to those memories and how important they were to me. But maybe I’m not doing as bad a job as I was afraid of. Getting Colt to engage with the material makes me feel like a fucking superhero, even more so than conquering PT.
As more students file in, there are bro hugs between some of the guys and tittering giggles coming from cliques of girls. I never thought that I would enjoy being in high school again, but being on this side of things is a different experience.
I would never want to be a student again. Hell, I would never want to be that age again. Trying to figure out how to navigate my limited world while building the skills I’d need to move forward in life once was enough. Don’t even get me started on the damn hormones that you have to contend with.
No, thank you.
Once the bell rings it takes less than a minute for my class to settle down. I’ve never been the teacher who gets up right away and demands their immediate attention. Ruling my classroom with an iron fist sounds like a lot of fucking work. On the other side, my students know I’m not their friend.
I’ve found a balance and I think they respect me more because of it.
Then there’s the reality that at the beginning of the year I couldn’t just jump out of my chair and start class. It would take me a moment to get up and there were days when I could barely manage to do it. Recovery might have been slow, but I can see how far I’ve come as I stand pretty quickly and walk around to the front of my desk.
A lot of my students have been cheering me on and seen the improvement as well. We don’t talk about what happened, it’s not any of their business, but they know I was hurt and that I’ve been getting better throughout the year.
As I dive into the lessen plan for the day, my students engage in discussions with each other making it clear who read the assigned chapters and who didn’t. It’s clear that the words came alive for most of my students where others are going through the motions, but not connecting.
That’s okay too. Not every book is for every reader.
“I think that’s a good point,” I interject into the discussion, trying to keep it on track. “How does that point relate to what we were talking about a few days ago—the need Huck and Jim have for freedom?”
As my students take up the conversation, I can’t help but smile. Even though I thought I wanted to teach younger kids, I would have missed out on the insights, thoughts, feelings, and perspectives of these people who are just on the cusp of finding their own freedom.
It’s humbling.
As I lean back on the edge of my desk, my body starts to feel the effects of being on my feet for so long while still not being 100%, the bell ringing startles me. As I jump a little and almost stumble over my own feet, my students chuckle. I give them a big smile and shake my head as they start to collect their belongings.
“We’ll keep talking about these chapters tomorrow. Don’t forget about the reading assignment for the weekend and if you’re starting to outline your essays and need to ask any questions, you know where to find me.”
The thought of eating the yogurt and fruit I brought with me for lunch, which is what I have now, has me sighing and walking back around my desk. Sure, eating light while I’m at school is a good idea, but at the same time I know it’s not going to hit the spot. The cafeteria food isn’t great, but I think it’s cheeseburger day and that sounds a lot better. Even a subpar cheeseburger is better than yogurt.
“Ms. C,” Colt’s voice pulls me from considering tossing my lunch away, if you can call it a lunch at all. When I look up at him, he watches the last few students filing out of the classroom before turning back to me. “I’ve been thinking about my essay for this book, and I wanted to run something by you.”
I try to temper my reaction, but it’s difficult to do. He has managed to blindside me by coming to me to talk about his essay ahead of time. He hasn’t done it once this year, no matter how many times I’ve offered the class that my door is open while reminding them I’m here to help.
It’s not something I mind doing because I want to see my students succeed. If they don’t ask for help when they need it, I can’t help steering them in the right direction or help them think through their thesis. It’ll make writing the essay that much easier when they sit down to do it.
“Sure,” I rest my elbows on my desk and lean toward him slightly, “what are you thinking about writing about?”
“Well,” he looks unsure which is not something I’m used to seeing from Colt, “there are a lot of interesting themes, but one stands out to me because it’s something I’m going through as well.”
I perk right the fuck up at this. Relating the themes of the book we’re reading in class to my student’s life is like catnip to me. Giddiness fills me at the thought of Colt finally putting in some effort and turning in an essay that actually shows me how smart I know he is.
“There are some great themes in the novel. We haven’t talked about all of them in class yet either,” I point out since I don’t want him to decide too early and then miss out on something that would appeal to him more. “What are you thinking about making the focus of your essay?”
“It’s clear that the book is a coming-of-age story. Huck has already done a lot of growing up, but I’m sure there is more coming his way as we get to the end of the book,” he muses, and my mouth drops open. Growing up and Huck’s character arc is not something we’ve talked about yet. “It’s clear he’s learning through experience and expanding his world view from the narrow scope he grew up with and the rigid teachings of right and wrong he was indoctrinated with. The way he’s making room to interpret the world through the lens of his experience on the river, which includes so much more than the place that he grew up, reminds me of the way we’ll eventually leave high school and go off to college or enter the work force. We’ll have the base of our home and our education, but we’ll have to adapt and learn from new experiences at that time.”
I blink up at Colt a few times, my brain trying to process his words and reconcile them with the freshman standing in front of me. The way his shoulders slump when I don’t say anything right away has me snapping out of my shock.
“Even coming to high school from middle school is an adjustment that you’re going through. Huck is building his experiences in the same way that you are,” I offer, and he flashes me a huge grin. This one isn’t flirty at all; it’s pure joy at being listened to and understood. “I think that would be a strong subject for your essay. I have no doubt you can use that context to create parallels between Huck’s journey and your own, without the Mississippi River preferably.”
Colt chuckles and nods eagerly. He’s all frantic energy and excitement as he nods. I can see the wheels continuing to turn in his head and knowing he’s directing that toward my class and his next essay is gratifying.
A knock on my door jamb has us both turning in that direction, and I find myself blinking in surprise, again. This time it has nothing to do with the excited freshman standing on the other side of my desk and everything to do with the hulking man staring at me with fire in his eyes. The way he’s looking at me, like he wants to devour me whole, has me squirming in my seat.
“Apostle,” I breathe out, my eyes taking him in.
Honestly, I can’t seem to help myself whenever he’s around.
I’m not even sure what it is that draws me to him. I’ve tried to figure it out since the first moment I met him and then why the way I wanted him tripled—or more—after we spent the night together. Sure, he’s an attractive man, but it’s so much more than that.
Fine; that’s a lie. He’s the hottest and sexiest man I’ve ever seen in person. He could be in a magazine and the tattoos and ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe only makes him hotter even if to most he would be inaccessible. He should be a giant red flag with his menacing vibe, but all I see are green lights when I look at him.
There’s probably something wrong with me.
“Firefly,” he drawls as he steps into my classroom.
“Ms. C,” Colt’s worried voice has me forcing my eyes away from Apostle, “do you know this guy?”
Apostle smirks and gives Colt a chin lift. I’ve never seen Colt anything less than confident, but now he’s gone pale and looks like he’s about a second away from pissing himself. I would laugh if it were funny, but it’s not.
“I’m her man,” Apostle’s response is smooth and there’s something in his tone that leaves no room for argument.
I open my mouth to refute him, but Apostle cuts his eyes at me, and I snap it closed again. Well, okay then. It’s really not a good idea for him to be spreading around this idea that we’re together.
Not only will this get around school—because that hasn’t changed since I left high school—but it’ll make it that much harder for me to walk away and go back to my old life and home, when the time comes. And the time is coming faster and faster.
Once I get the all clear from my doctor and Devin, that’ll be the end of it. Right? It’ll be time for me to go back to my apartment and back to how things were before Apostle swooped in and took me to his place for my recovery.
My heart aches at the thought, but I don’t let it show on my face as I glare at the man who is taking far too many liberties in my workplace.
Colt looks back and forth between us and squeaks, “Really?”
All I can do is shrug one shoulder in response. Maybe it’ll get the kid to stop trying to flirt with me. It was never going to go anywhere anyway and if Apostle is the shield I use on this one, I’m okay with that.
“Okay,” Colt’s tone is hesitant as he starts to sidle out of the classroom. “I’ll catch you later, Ms. C.”
“Let me know if you need help with your essay. I think you’re on the right track and can do an amazing job. I’m here if you need me,” I remind him.
Colt gives a little wave and then bolts from the room. I lean back against my seat and let out an exasperated sigh even as my body heats up with every step Apostle takes toward me. He’s not the kind of man to be ignored and it’s taken all of my willpower not to give in to him every day since I got out of the hospital.
I know what he wants. It’s just not something I can afford to give him. There’s not a doubt in my mind that the cost will be too high. He’s the kind of man who would leave me as a broken shell in his wake.
I rasp, “What are you doing here?”
Apostle holds up the bag he’s carrying, one I barely realized he was holding. That’s how much this man distracts me. It’s dangerous as hell.
“I brought you lunch,” he rumbles and my body shudders without my permission.
The way his eyes light up tells me that he didn’t miss the action. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about it. If he did, I’d deny it with every fiber of my being.
I narrow my eyes at him because there is no way he knew that I was dreading eating the lunch I brought with me. The man might be good, but he’s not that good. There’s no way he’s developed some sort of mind meld with me. And even if he did, I was only thinking it minutes ago and he wouldn’t have had time to make this happen.
“Why?” I blurt the question without realizing how fucking rude it sounds. When Apostle arches his eyebrow, I sigh and grimace. “Sorry. But I am curious as to why you’re brining me lunch, Apostle.”
He sets the bag on my desk and then spins my chair until my legs are no longer under my desk. His large hands grip the arm rests as he leans over me. He’s such a large man anyway that he easily takes up my entire vision. Then to have him this close?
He’s overwhelming in the best of ways.
“There’s no way you can sustain yourself all day when you only take yogurt and some fucking fruit to eat, firefly,” there’s a warning and an admonishment in his tone. It makes me bristle instantly. “There it is,” he chuckles softly. “Love to see that fire in your eyes, firefly. And what did I tell you about calling me ‘Apostle’?”
Did he just suck all the air out of the room? No man should be as sexy as this one standing in front of me. And yet here he is.