Maggie - First Day Jitters
My Sunday was spent curled up on the couch in comfy clothes with a new mafia romance novel I’d been waiting to read for months. My only regret was letting Ben see what I was reading.
I left my spot on the couch for a coffee refill, and that’s when he snatched up my book and started reading the blurb on the back.
“Why are you reading stuff so…” He pulled a face, “dark?” He scratched his chest under his black t-shirt, and his gray sweatpants slung low on his hips.
“Is love ever light and fluffy?” I murmured. “You have to go through the dark to get to the happily ever after. That’s life.”
“So you’re going for realistic?” He arched a skeptical eyebrow. “This might be news for you, Jinx, but I think those books are labeled nonfiction.”
I put down the coffee pot with a thud and faced him. “I know you’re not about to tell me that romance is unrealistic, Benjamin Capretti,” I deadpanned.
“Benjamin?” he repeated, fighting the corner of his mouth from curving up. “I’m in trouble, eh?”
Stalking back to the living room, I tried to rip my book from his grasp, but he held it out of my reach and started flipping through it with a huge grin on his face.
“You’re too tall,” I grunted.
“Romance should be labeled fantasy,” he mused, completely ignoring me.
My mouth popped open. “Why would you say that?”
His eyes dipped down to study mine. “Okay, you're right, it’s not fantasy,” he drawled. “It’s very much real.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
“It should be labeled horror,” he said with finality.
I gasped. “That’s worse!” I finally snatched my book back. “And you should be thankful for this book,” I shook it at him, “because I’m sitting here not causing any trouble, just like you wanted.” I threw myself back down in my comfy spot, determined to ignore him.
“Sorry, sorry, as you were,” he said, holding his hands up in innocence.
I just harrumphed and stared at him with an unimpressed expression as I turned my next page.
As he walked back to the kitchen, he quietly said, “It’s horror for me .” His words made me pause. “But,” he opened the fridge, “I think it should be light and fluffy for you .”
My heart practically stuttered in my chest.
I blinked at his back, wishing he’d turn around so I could see his face, so I could see if he was being for real or if this was some kind of sarcastic joke to him.
“Chicken and rice okay for dinner?” he asked, his back still to me as he studied the ingredients in the fridge.
“Yeah, thanks,” I offered, my voice sounding awfully strangled.
I tried to go back to reading after that, but my brain couldn’t focus. Instead, I just stared at the words while my thoughts spun in dangerous circles, wondering why Ben detested romance so much, and wondering why I was so irked by it…
_________
On Monday morning, I was ready to get to school extra early because I wanted to print off new syllabuses for my high schoolers. I unfortunately found a typo, and I didn’t want parents to think I was careless.
Holding my to-go cup and my laptop bag, I yelled at Ben to hurry up as I headed to the front door, only to stumble when I realized he was already waiting for me.
“Oh, good.” I nodded. “We gotta go. Can’t be late. C’mon,” I said, ushering for him to head out.
His eyes narrowed on my cup. “How much coffee have you had this morning?”
Two cups. But that wasn’t his business. I just shrugged.
He crossed his strong arms over his chest. “We’re not leaving ‘til you eat breakfast.”
My eyes bulged. “What? No, I don’t have time.”
He smirked down at me. “Yeah, well, I don’t have time to deal with another anxiety attack today. I can already tell your hands are shaking from the caffeine you consumed this morning.” My mouth dropped open. He nodded to the kitchen area. “Go eat. I made eggs.”
I paused. While making breakfast was a nice gesture, I knew I couldn’t get used to it. I couldn’t get used to him . I opened my mouth to argue, but he just arched an eyebrow at me, wordlessly telling me he wasn’t about to budge.
Rolling my eyes, I marched back to the kitchen in a hurry.
I felt his eyes still on me the whole time.
“You’re just going to watch?” I asked, stabbing some eggs with a fork.
His face didn’t give anything away.
I shoved a bite of the delicious eggs in my mouth and had to stop myself from moaning. Instead, I mumbled, “Happy?”
He just grinned. He looked nice today in his black polo and lulu slacks. The topographical map tattoo covering his right arm peeked out from under his sleeve, and I kind of hoped the kids would ask him about it, because I wanted to know, too.
By the time we finally left the apartment, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursed through my body.
This would be a good day. A great day , I convinced myself as the elevator doors opened to the parking garage.
“Hope you’re ready to be a passenger princess today,” I threw over my shoulder as I made my way to my jeep. “I made a special new playlist for the first–” But I stumbled to a stop and the rest of my sentence died in my throat.
My jeep’s front left wheel had a yellow boot on it.
I whipped back around to see him standing there oh-so-casually with his hands in his pockets. His mouth did a little dance, like it was caught between a grin and a forced grimace. “Problem?”
Annoyance rushed through my body. I angled my jaw to the side. “Are you serious? Take it off my car.”
“Me?” His head tipped back as he laughed incredulously. “I can’t. I didn’t do it.”
“Yeah, okay,” I quipped back sarcastically. “And here I thought you said you wouldn't lie.”
He pulled his sunglasses out and shielded his eyes as he stalked over to the Escalade, smirking the whole way. “I didn’t lie.” He threw open the passenger door and waited for me. “Coleson did it.” He full-on grinned like a cocky bastard, and I wanted more than anything to slap it off his face. “Better get in, Jinx, don’t wanna be late on your first day.”
Eyeing my poor car warily, I knew he was right. This argument would have to wait for later, because I couldn’t afford to lose precious morning minutes. Gritting my teeth, I walked over to the stupid SUV.
As I climbed up, he leaned forward and suddenly I felt his chest against my back. His large hands went to my hips, helping me in the car, making my breath hitch. The smell of his cologne enveloped me, making me…. Making me want him .
Then he dipped even closer and whispered, “Payback.”
That one word broke my trance and I gasped. “You–”
His mouth split into a wide grin as he slammed the door shut before I could say anything else.
______
As soon as I entered the school, I power-walked to the little office with a printer so I could reprint my syllabus as quickly as possible.
Right as I opened the door, the principal walked past. I did not have time to waste, so I gave a polite wave and moved to duck into the room.
“Ben,” the principal said, stopping him in the doorway. “You have time for a quick question?”
Ben looked torn. His brown eyes found mine. “I’ll be right here by the door.”
I gave a quick nod and heard the principal rattling off safety questions to him.
Turning to the printer, I messed around with the buttons for a minute before realizing I needed to scan my ID card for the huge machine to even turn on.
Nervous tension left my body as soon as I had the copies printing off. I turned and leaned my back against the printer and studied the clock at the far end of the little office space. We still had about thirty minutes until first hour officially started.
Around copy number 53 out of 89, the printer released a high-pitched noise, making me jump back. And then it stopped printing altogether.
I frantically pushed buttons and pulled all the levers. I opened and shut the little paper area, but the machine was now making a bunch of noises, and I couldn’t seem to shut it the hell up.
Panicking, I gave it a good slap, but it just got angrier. I struggled to open the top part of it with my good arm.
Another high-pitched siren wailed out of the stupid machine, making me drop the top down. I turned to get help, only to be slammed back into the machine.
Craning my neck, I realized the printer had clamped down on chunk of my hair.
Oh my God .
I was stuck.
The printing finally resumed. But now it was slowly eating my hair.
“Ben!” I screamed out in panic. “Ben!”
He threw the door open and stalked in, looking like a man on a mission. As soon as he took in the sight in front of him, his mouth dropped open in shock. “Maggie, I left you for two seconds, what the–”
“Help me!” I screamed at him, pulling my head back. I was playing tug-of-war with my hair against the fucking printer. “Save me!”
“Jesus–”
“Don’t!” I screamed, then whimpered, because this fucking hurt. And then my body froze. I sniffed. “What’s that smell? Ben?!” Smoke was now erupting from the machine. Oh my God. My hair was burning.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered to himself while messing with a bunch of buttons. He finally settled on yanking the plug out of the power socket in the wall.
The machine finally died.
I slid to my butt and fell limp against the stupid machine. My hair was still stuck inside it.
Ben wordlessly worked to free my hair. He pulled a little, making me wince in pain.
“Shit, sorry.” His eyes rounded with apology.
I held my fingers under my eyes, trying to stop myself from crying. If I cried, kids would totally be able to tell, and I didn’t have any backup makeup with me to fix up.
When I was finally detached from the printer, Ben stayed facing the wall, a hand covering his mouth. His shoulders were shaking.
My face burned with mortification. “You asshole! Stop laughing at me.”
I went to shove him, but he lunged away like a ninja. His face sobered for all of a single second to chastise me with “that’s the hurt wrist” and then he resumed his damn laughing.
I slumped on a little kid chair and dropped my head in my hand. “It’s happening again,” I cried.
He sniffled and rubbed at his eye. Wow. I made him laugh so hard he cried . I shot him a withering glare.
“What do you mean ‘it’s happening again’? What’s happening again? God that was funny.” He shook his head, then mocked me. “Ben! Help me! Save me!” He rubbed a hand over his face.
My shoulders slumped. “This day is going to be a disaster. I can feel it in my bones.” I reached up and pathetically rubbed the spot on my scalp that now stung like hell.
When his laughing finally eased, he said, “No, it’s not.” He stepped closer and I could feel his large presence behind me. He gently moved my hand away, then he resumed the massaging. And wow. His hand in my hair felt… really nice. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch and trying not to break down. “Wait.” His hand paused and I almost cried out. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s happening again ?”
With my defenses all but diminished, I mumbled, “The bad luck is happening again. It’s a fact at this point: I have bad luck. My whole family has it. I’m cursed. I am jinxed. You were right on the money with that nickname. That's why I hate it so much. Think of everything that’s happened since I got here? Look at this!” I held up my casted wrist. And then I searched for the chunk of hair that was eaten. “Oh my God,” I whimpered. The chunk was all tangled and a few inches were completely fried.
He resumed rubbing my head. “Or maybe you’re just a clumsy little thing, you’re way too trusting, and there are real pieces of shit out there in the world who take advantage of trusting people. There’s no such thing as bad luck. ”
“Yeah, well, keep hanging around me and you’ll change your tune real quick,” I grumbled.
“Nah, keep hanging around you and my abs will be perfect from laughing at your expense.”
They already are perfect, I internally quipped, but I stayed silent. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. I was too upset.
“C’mon, you’re not gonna give me shit for saying that?” he coaxed.
I just shook my head, feeling absolutely hopeless about this day.
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe you have bad luck for even a second,” he tried. “And today’s going to be fine. You’re letting your nerves get the best of you. Just calm down and take a breather. This could’ve happened to anyone.”
I released a long sigh. “You think so?”
“Well,” he paused. “No. Your hair is really long,” he said with a chuckle.
I rolled my eyes. “Wow, I thought you were going to be nice to me.”
His forehead pinched as he brushed my hair down my back in such a gentle way that was so at odds with his rough hands. “It’s pretty.”
My breath hitched a little at the way he was touching me so reverently. “Well, that was nice of you to say.” I craned my neck to look up at him. “You actually think so?”
He shifted his weight and an amused smile tugged at his lips. “It was.” He fingered the fried piece and started laughing again.
“Ugh! Sour then sweet, sweet then sour, choose a fucking lane,” I snapped at him and went to swat his hand away with casted wrist. His eyes widened as he swerved to avoid my contact.
“ Stop using your left hand. I can’t care about it more than you, Maggie,” he said, his tone laced with exasperation.
“I care,” I said defensively.
He gave me a shocked look. “Then I’d hate to see what not caring looks like. Jesus, Maggie.”
“Again? Really?” I threw my arms up. “You were doing so good!” I stood up and stomped my way to the stupid printer, stealing off the good copies.
Ben just chuckled as he followed me back to my classroom– I hated that I felt the sound of his grumble tone down to my core.
______
In the comfort of my room, I searched for a pair of scissors so I could cut the fried ends off. The smell of burnt hair was still in my nose and I needed it gone.
“Woah, stop. What are you doing?” Ben demanded, striding toward me.
“I have to fix it. I can’t leave it like this.”
“Put the scissors down,” he ordered.
I slumped in my chair. “It has to get fixed,” I argued back. “The kids will tease me.”
“You afraid of getting bullied by kids?” he joked.
I didn’t laugh.
His expression sobered. “Hand them over,” he demanded, holding his hand out for the scissors.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
He easily swiped the scissors from me and held my burnt hair away. “No, but I won't make you look stupid, promise.”
A minute later, he held the burnt pieces and walked to the garbage to discard them. “There, you can’t even tell. It was just a top layer. You have so much hair.” He took a seat on one of the long tables.
Somehow I doubted you couldn’t tell, but I still thanked him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in a mock-exasperated tone.
“Nothing.” I turned to the stacks of drawing paper and started fidgeting, straightening out each pile.
“You’re all tense. It’s making me tense.” He rolled his large shoulder. “Out with it.”
“It’s just…” My shoulders slumped. “Nothing’s going my way. I keep trying and trying, but I feel like I’m inching closer to the day that I just give up.”
“Nah, you can’t.” He gave a negative headshake. “Not an option. You’ve gotta keep going.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Dory. Just keep swimming .”
He smirked. “Nah, keep digging.”
I cocked my head to the side, confused. “What?”
He pulled up his long sleeve to reveal his strong forearm. He turned it over to the inside, and I got a chance to study his ink without being a weirdo, because he was inviting me to look. A shovel was etched on the inside of his forearm surrounded by other swirls.
“Everyone has their shit to shovel. You can’t stop digging yourself out of it. You can’t give up. Ever.”
Huh… He worded the advice in a very guy-ish way, but I liked the sentiment a lot. “That’s very insightful.” I touched the tattoo, then quickly stole my hand back. He didn’t ask to be touched, and from watching him over the past couple weeks, I knew he didn’t like it. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” he said, looking at me confusedly.
My face flamed as I blurted out, “I just know you’re not a touchy-feely kind of person.”
He went to say something, then closed his mouth. His brown gaze bore into me.
Shit. I just practically admitted that I creeped on him enough to know his mannerisms.
After an awkward beat of silence, he asked, “You good?”
“Yeah, of course.” My voice came out way too high.
“Then why are you still worried?” He smirked at me.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “How do you know I'm worried?”
He stayed silent. His way of making me look at him before he said anything. Of course curiosity got the best of me and I looked his way.
When I met his dark eyes, his mouth tugged up in a lopsided grin. “I guess I notice things about you, too, Jinx.”
My body stilled in surprise.
Part of me wanted to read more into his words. He noticed things about me because maybe he even liked me back. But… no. We were just two adults thrown together in a situation and having to share living space. Of course we’d pick up on each other’s body language. But as I reasoned his words away, I notice you kept echoing in my brain.
“So, what’s got you still worried?” he asked.
My fingers went to my temples. “This is just a different situation than I’m used to. Like, what do you want the kids to call you? What’s the story? Who are you? Because they’re going to ask and I have no clue what to say.”