Lost Years

by MK Schiller

  He considered my argument, his smile growing wider. “Indeed, I believe you would, but it doesn’t change the fact you should be moved into my advanced class.”

  “I may be a kid, and it doesn’t make sense to an adult like you, but to me it’s as simple as X plus Y. She is my friend, and I want to help her. She wants to be here, and she’s willing to do what it takes. The only unknown variable in this equation is if you’re going to make that happen.”

  I had no doubts. I’d rather stay in the middle with her than be ahead without her.

  “I have to admit you make a very impassioned plea.”

  “So we’re good?”

  Please, please be cool, Mr. C.

  I gripped the edge of his table, the hard wood biting into my skin. He was taking his sweet time with the answer. As it was, I was late to practice.

  “Have a seat, Mr. Flynn.” He gestured to the rows of empty desks in front of him. I had no intention of sitting there. I respected him as a teacher, but this wasn’t a teacher and student discussion. No sir, as far as I was concerned, this was a man-to-man talk. I just wish he would start manning up. I took the chair with no desk attached and moved it out of the corner until it was next to his desk. I assumed the same position as him with one leg over my knee. I steepled my fingers.

  His expression was a mixture of disapproval and amusement.

  “I’m listening, Mr. Carlson.”

  “My job as an instructor is to make sure kids are working toward their potential. You are not. This class is too easy for you, and although I respect your position as a friend, I cannot disregard my position as a mentor.”

  “What about your teacher oath to help all kids?”

  He drummed his fingers against the desk. “That’s not a real thing.”

  I clenched my teeth so hard it hurt. He was dismissing me. Dismissing the arguments like I was some love-sick dumbass who didn’t know any better. But even worse, he was dismissing Scarlett because she was too much work for him. That made me sick.

  “Maybe it should be. You might be a better teacher.”

  He placed his palms flat on the desk and raised himself an inch so he was towering over me. “You’re emotional, so I will ignore that. Our discussion is complete, Mr. Flynn. But let me give you one last piece of advice. You have potential. Don’t throw it away for a girl.”

  “What about her potential? You want to put her in a lower class because she asks too many questions? Does that even make sense?” He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off with another argument. “I know how she learns. Once she catches up, we can talk about changing classes for me. I’m just asking you as my mentor and hers to take a chance. Can you just take a chance?”

  He pinched his nose, shaking his head. I exhaled a breath so long I must have held it since walking into his classroom. I scraped the chair back and stood. My shoulders slumped in defeat. I’d failed.

  I’d failed her.

  “I changed my mind. Engineering is not right for you. You definitely should be an attorney.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I will change your seat assignment tomorrow. I will see your two weeks and raise you one month, but I’d better see a marked improvement.”

  His voice was low. Had I misheard? He smiled at me, confirming it, and outstretched his hand. I almost wanted to slap him a high-five, but I grasped his hand and shook firmly.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He wagged his finger at me. “You better not cause any interruptions. And there is to be no hanky panky. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir. Just one question.”

  “Yes?”

  “What’s hanky panky?”

  He tried to hide his grin by shifting his head back to his papers. “That’s another class entirely. One I don’t teach, thankfully.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The light of the early morning sun invaded my closed eyes. Was it a dream? Was everything a fucking dream? I sniffed. The fresh smell of rain, the earthiness of damp ground, the lingering odor of sex all supported sweet reality. She scratched my shoulder and licked me. I smiled and turned toward her. Long white whiskers and black beady eyes peered back at me.

  Shit.

  The cat lunged to the floor with a dramatic hiss before I could get up. The girl shifted on the other side of me, her silky hair spilling across my chest.

  “Your cat just came onto me or maybe he was trying to kill me. I’m not sure.”

  She opened her eyes, a sexy smile stretching her lips. “Well, you are incredibly hot, but then again, you did call him ugly. He probably has mixed emotions when it comes to you.”

  “Do you have mixed emotions?”

  The answer tumbled from her as if she had been contemplating the same question. “I’m confused.”

  “Why?”

  “I shouldn’t like you this much in such a short time. The slope we’re on feels too steep.”

  “Strap yourself in and enjoy the ride with me.”

  She traced the lines of ink on my arm. “You had a nightmare.”

  “It was a dream.”

  “You were yelling and swearing. It didn’t sound like a dream.”

  I’d heard this before. Apparently, I was vocal in my dreams. “Did I scare you?”

  “No, but you were really pissed at someone.” Yeah, myself. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t remember.” I omitted a word or two from the sentence.

  I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to remember that I was an asshole to you once in some other world. That I took you for granted. That I was confused about my growing feelings for you and that confusion manifested itself in clumsy, cowardly ways. I was a giant dick.

  “I never remember my dreams, either,” she said. “I just know when I have one because the covers are a mess.”

  “Yeah? Sounds like an exciting dream.”

  She shrugged. “It’s really frustrating. I want to remember them. Now the nightmares…those I remember.” She shuddered.

  “What are your nightmares about?”

  “It’s not important.”

  I tilted her chin so I could look into her eye. “It is to me.”

  “Monsters and villains and axe murderers and Santa.”

  “I won’t let any of them get you.”

  “Not even Santa?”

  I pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Especially not him.”

  “You should go. My mom will be home soon.”

  I caressed the underside of her wrist. “Okay.”

  She went to the bathroom.

  We’d made a crumpled mess of her sheets. After I dressed, I found a replacement set in the closet and made her bed, throwing the rest in the laundry. I almost tripped over her packed luggage. The relief she wasn’t leaving today washed over me with a sea of guilt. I made a vow that we’d make it to Nashville one day.

  “I put the sheets on top of the washer and made your bed again,” I said against the bathroom door.

  “Oh, thanks, that was…very thoughtful.”

  “Sure.”

  “You can come in.”

  The door creaked as it opened. I tried and failed not to stare as she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and scrubbed her face. She opened a small tube, rubbing it across her lips. The scent was faint but recognizable. Mmm…pineapple, my favorite.

  I leaned against the counter, taking the watch she set there. It ran slow, so I reset the time for her and slipped it around her wrist, securing it with the extra handmade hole punched into the leather band.

  “What’s the deal with the watch?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a man’s watch.”

  She stared down at it as if it would give the answer. “I had a friend. His name was Tommy. Russ, Tom, and I were best friends. Anyway, Tommy loved watches. He always wore one. Last year, we fought a lot, and he was going through some crap. I decided to get him something special. I saved my money and bought this for
his birthday. I even had his name engraved on the back.”

  “Don’t tell me he didn’t appreciate the gift.”

  “He died before I could give it to him. I wear it now. It comforts me, like he’s still here.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  She hugged herself. “It’s weird, I know.”

  I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears. “It’s beautiful, Scarlett. He was lucky to have you as a friend.”

  “I was the lucky one.”

  I leaned against the counter and replayed what she’d told me. “Tommy? Thomas Castings?”

  She jerked her head up, her expression full of surprise. “How did you know?”

  “Aunt Rose sends Christmas gifts, and she wrapped one up in an old newspaper from here. I saw an article about him.” Yeah, and I cried like a baby after I read it. No way I’d tell her that. She’d think I was nuts. I could never figure out why some guy I didn’t know affected me like that.

  “I miss him a lot. Russ and I both do.” I wanted to reply that I did, too, but I stopped myself. She tapped the face of the watch a few times. “He taught me how to swim at the community pool when we were eight. I had a fear of water.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, not a good thing when you live on an island.” She laughed, but the sound lacked joy. “Later, when we were teenagers, he showed me how to surf.”

  “You surf?”

  “I’m not great at it, but I do love it. I haven’t been since he…since he left us.” Her voice choked on the last few words. Standing behind her, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her temple.

  “I’m so sorry, Scarlett.”

  “Where the hell did this come from?” she said, slapping away a tear like she was angry at it.

  I wanted to take that grief from her. To hoard it away and protect her. I didn’t just want to be her sword. I wanted to be her shield. I pivoted her toward me. “Maybe you can teach me.”

  “Teach you?”

  “To surf if you’re game for it. I’ll probably wipe out a lot, so just be prepared that I’ll suck at first.”

  Her mouth turned up at the corners, not enough for the dimple to appear, but enough to distance the sorrow for a moment. “I’d like that, but I doubt you’ll suck at it.” Her fingers twisted around my belt loops. “You seem very…balanced.”

  You’re wrong there. I’ve tumbled, tripped, and fallen since you entered my world.

  “I appreciate your faith in me.”

  “And I would appreciate it if you’d stop seducing me.”

  “How am I doing that?”

  She started to button my shirt. “You stormed into my town like a real-life Hemsworth brothers mash-up, and I’m cool with that. I can deal, but do not…ever come at me shirtless. A girl only has so many defenses.”

  I watched her fingers work as she closed up each button, wishing they were going the opposite way. I needed to get a move on, but not before I kissed those delicious lips once more. “Do you happen to have a toothbrush I can use?”

  She reached inside a drawer and handed it to me.

  I tore off the packaging. “Had to be pink, huh?”

  She shrugged, holding her hands out. “This is a house of girls. We only have pink and yellow. You can keep it here, though…if you want it, that is.”

  “I want.” We brushed our teeth together.

  She ran her fingers across the fresh stubble on my face. “You look like a fucking underwear model.”

  “I want in your underwear again.”

  She laughed and bumped me. I pinned her against the wall and kissed her hard, until I got my fill of pineapple and Scarlett. I traced her plump lower lip, jutting out a little more than the top one and sufficiently chapped.

  “Your lips taste like pineapple and something else.”

  “Coconut,” she said. “It’s a pineapple and coconut kind of day, you know?”

  I nodded. “That’s my favorite kind of day.”

  “Me, too.” I bent toward her again, but she held me back.

  “My mom’s gonna be here soon. If you keep kissing me like that, I’ll mess up my panties.”

  I leaned my forehead against hers, counting the four freckles across the bridge of her nose. “Me, too.”

  Her mouth snapped open before she burst into laughter.

  “Forget I said that.”

  But her smile told me she wouldn’t. “Did I melt your panties?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I gotcha, New York.”

  “When will I see you?”

  “Soon.” She said it with an air of mystery.

  I decided not to press. I bordered that area between interested and crazy. If I didn’t hold back, I might scare her away.

  She walked me to the door. I took her hands in mine, letting my gaze travel down past her Texas A&M T-shirt to her tiny denim cutoffs, my gaze lingering on her long, shapely legs. “Are you going to keep fucking me with your eyes, Flynn?”

  “I’d rather use another body part.”

  “Good-bye.”

  I turned around but looked back at her. “Are you real?”

  She caressed my cheek again, her soft fingers rubbing against the gruff shadow on my face. “Real or not, you have to go.”

  I kissed her once more, halfway out the door. “Until later, Scarlett.”

  “Later.”

  I stopped myself, the dream coming back to me. If I let my crazy run free, I’d probably fuck this all up. But the question, like an annoying thorn in my side, pricked at me.

  “Hey, Scarlett?”

  “Yes?”

  “When did you give up on college?”

  “College?”

  “Yeah, I mean was there a particular time you knew it wasn’t in the cards any longer?”

  Her brow furrowed, but her answer was quick. “Second semester of freshman year in high school. The counselor put me in all the remedial classes and told me to keep my expectations real. Why would you ask me this?”

  “Just wondering.”

  Fuck…that wasn’t awkward.

  Chapter Twelve

  Later that morning, I drove Aunt Rose to the diner. It seemed a waste of gas for both of us to drive. Besides, I enjoyed her company.

  “Did you stay out all night?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I was concerned. You should have called.”

  I wasn’t used to clocking my comings and goings. I glanced at her sideways, but only one look told me she was sincere.

  “Sorry, Aunt Rose. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

  “May I ask who you were with?”

  “Scarlett Jones.”

  Aunt Rose smiled softly. “She’s a sweet girl. Too bad she’s leaving today.”

  “Not anymore. At least not today.” Not ever, I prayed. I’d go with her if she let me. I’d make a life with her, because in her arms, I felt at home for the first time.

  “I see. This just happened?”

  “Yep, just like that.”

  “She’s a very nice girl.”

  “Does that mean you don’t think I’m a nice boy?”

  “Not at all. You are a very nice young man.” She turned toward the window, but I could see her smile in the glass reflection. Aunt Rose approved.

  “Thanks, that means a lot.” And it did mean something to earn her approval.

  She started talking about groceries and the diner, signaling the end to our conversation, but the smile never wavered.

  Russ greeted me with a range of choice emotions as displayed by his sneers and scowls. If they passed out awards for most passive-aggressive, he’d be a serious contender.

  The breakfast rush kept us busy. I was on my own today. I spilled coffee on myself. I messed up orders. I forgot the crayons for the kids. I dropped a plate. Russ called me out on all of it no matter how minor. During the lull between breakfast and lunch, I confronted him in the storage room.

  “What’s your problem? You
’ve been riding my ass all day.”

  “You’re my problem, New Guy. You’re terrible at this. I had a feeling you would be. What is it? Serving other people beneath you?”

  “I don’t know what I did to give you that impression. I will improve. But that’s not your real issue, is it?”

  He gritted his teeth, jabbing his finger against my chest. “It’s a shitty thing to do. You monopolized her time.”

  I kept my hands up, trying not to escalate the situation. “Good news, man, she’s not leaving.”

  He took a few steps back, the anger in his expression fading into surprise. “Why?”

  “She’s sticking around for a while to see where things are going between us.”

  He returned a cynical chuckle, fisting his hands through his hair. “Fucking figures.”

  I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “I get it, Russ. You like her. You hate me, but I’m not the enemy. There is no battle here, except for the one in your head.”

  “You’re wrong, man.”

  “You seriously want to fight me? What are we, twelve? She can choose.” I patted my chest. “I’d say I’m sorry about last night, but that would be the biggest lie I’ve ever told. But I will say, I get how much this sucks for you, and for that, I am sorry.”

  His jaw tightened, the vein on his neck pulsing. I readied myself in case he came at me.

  Don’t make me hurt you, Russ. Scarlett would not appreciate it.

  “I don’t like her. I love her. I fucking love her, you asshole.”

  “Did you ever tell her?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t have to. She knew. I always thought we’d have more time. As kids, she was just one of the guys, tossing the football or fishing with us. And then one day she wasn’t. I waited, so patient, for her to see me the same way I saw her.” His fists clenched and unclenched.

  “And then that dickhead, Vance, started working here. Tommy and I told her he wasn’t good enough for her, but she looked at him like she looks at that damn cat, like something to save. When they broke up, I told myself to be patient again, but then she says she’s moving to Nashville. And then you come along.”

  “Yeah, then I came along.”

  “Is she some little island ass you want to check off your fuck wish list?”