by Caisey Quinn
Maybe I kept coming back to the museum because of that day, or maybe I just truly love art, but after my dad left, it became my safe place. My quiet, peaceful place. Almost sacred in a way, where I’d find myself sitting silently for as long as I could. I love the way it felt, the way it smelled, the way it made me feel. Clean. New. Full of possibility.
The few times I was able to carve out the time to come here, I’d sit and admire each and every exhibit, vowing that one day, someday this museum would house my sculptures.
Every day, someday felt further away.
Until now. Now I was no longer a visitor.
I worked here.
Granted they paid me in fine art credits for college, but it was real. I had a badge with my picture on it.
For a rare, hopeful moment after they’d taken my photo and handed me my official employee ID, I’d believed I was one step closer to my dream. I’d practically floated through orientation. I was starting to understand the expression ‘on cloud nine.’
Right up until I met the woman whose intern I would be.
Jecca Chambliss was the Special Events Coordinator for the museum. She was taller than me, built like a runway model with sharp angles, a platinum blonde pixie cut, and ice blue eyes that could freeze you solid where you stood.
Her voice was like a whip, harsh and unyielding. At the end of my first week, all I’d heard her use it for was giving demands.
“Emily, get my coffee. Emily, don’t forget to grab my mail. Emily, order my lunch now.”
After the fourth Emily, I stopped correcting her.
I was never going to get the scholarship if my direct supervisor didn’t even bother to learn my name.
The funny thing was, I got along really well with the competition.
Alexis, Lindsay, and Collin were the three other interns I worked with. We were assigned to different departments so, other than our daily lunch breaks, I didn’t see them often. But we had started grabbing coffee and lunch together and using the time to vent when we could.
Alexis and Lindsey worked for Joy, who was the Director of the Children’s section of the museum and was a lot of fun. I couldn’t help but envy them.Though they did get puked on more than the rest of us. Yay for little kids evening the score.
Collin, however, had it almost worse than me. He worked for Ken Whitfield, who was in charge of membership and ran Collin to death day after day. He still hadn’t learned his name either.
“Ken has taken to calling me ‘kid’,” Collin informed us over lunch that afternoon. “At least Jecca has an excuse for being such a witch.”
I arched a brow as I poured more creamer into my coffee. “And what would that be? Bleach gone to her brain?”
“Her high school sweetheart dumped her on her ass a while back and she recently saw him at a party with someone else,” Alexis informs me. “Joy was comforting her again this morning. Said when they broke up the guy just blew her off with no explanation and she was expecting an engagement ring any day. They’d been together like eight years.”
“Ouch,” Lindsay said over her bite of club sandwich. “That does suck.”
I frowned at my grilled chicken wrap. As someone who’d never had my heartbroken by anyone other than my father, I couldn’t exactly empathize. But it did give me hope that maybe she was just wounded and not inherently evil. Which mean maybe she’d be nicer to me as her broken heart healed over time.
Hope, I should’ve realized by now, was a dangerous, formidable creature that could only lead to trouble.
When I returned to Jecca’s office that afternoon, she already had a three foot stack of files waiting for me.
“You can eat your lunch in the archive storage section of the basement from now on,” she informed me. “You’re only here a few hours a day. You don’t have time for breaks.”
I nodded, grabbing as many of the files as I could carry and moving toward the door.
“Oh, and Emily?”
I turned and waited for whatever fresh torture she’d thought up.
“If you want to edge out the competition, you might want to focus on working harder and socializing less.”
I swallowed the words I wanted to say. I wanted to ask if spreading her misery around actually helped alleviate the pain any. But I just forced a smile. I’d already been accepted to the Charlotte Academy of Art and Design. But I hadn’t been awarded any scholarships. My first year tuition would be seventeen thousand dollars. I needed the ten thousand from the museum’s internship program scholarship more than I needed answers or new friends.
So I headed to the basement mumbling, “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
By the time I arrived home from my shift at the museum that evening, Camille was already blowing up my phone. She was fighting with Derek again but wanted to go to his hockey game.
Just not alone.
Drew said he’d only go if I went because he didn’t want to be the third wheel. We both knew how Derek and Camille were. Toxic and combustible but even at odds with each other, they’d still leave together one way or another.
Ethan was at a baseball tournament over an hour away. The Andersons said they’d bring him home after. Mom was watching a movie in her room. When I’d checked on her, she’d been eating a plate of leftover chicken casserole and told me she didn’t need anything. I wanted to kick off my dress and heels and crawl into my bed for a nice long nap, but as soon as Camille stopped texting, Drew started.
“I’ll buy you dinner,” he offered. “I’ll even buy you sushi.”
I loved sushi. I could hardly ever afford it but I’d had some in California with my dad and gotten hooked one something called Super Crunch Roll.
Deal. I texted back before flopping down on my bed.
A moment later his response came through. Pick you up in twenty.
Awesome. I closed my eyes just for a moment.
The next thing I knew, someone was knocking at my window.
Blinking myself awake, I rolled out of bed and stood. I scrubbed my hand over my face and stumbled to my window.
Drew stood there looking like a GQ model.
I looked like a rumpled mess.
I opened my window and he climbed in. “We have a front door, you know.”
He glanced around my room. “Didn’t want to ring the bell and risk disturbing Momzilla.”
“You know the code, Drew.”
He grinned. “It’s more fun this way.”
Using my hand, I rubbed a cramp out of my neck. “Is it really necessary that I go to this game?”
He made a pouty face. “Yes. You know Camille is going to ditch me for douchey Derek.”
I frowned. “So why are you going?”
“Nothing better to do.” His eyes darted left. His tell. The one he’d had since we were kids that told me he was lying.
“Liar. I know that face. You want to go. Cute boy on the team or something?”
“Or something,” he muttered, moving to my closet. “Here. Put this on.”
He tossed me a cropped concert tee I’d gotten from the thrift store and a pair of black destroyed skinny jeans.
“I’ll freeze in this at the ice rink.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, a gray zip up hoodie smacked me in the face and landed in my arms.
“Hurry up, princess,” he said, exiting back through my window.
“You could’ve used the door,” I mumbled while disrobing.
Once I was changed, I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my hair. I had enough residual makeup left from my internship that morning that it looked liked I’d tried for a decent smokey eye.
Now for the hard part.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked gently on my mom’s bedroom door.
When she didn’t answer, I pushed it open slowly. “Mom?”
Still nothing.
I stepped inside and saw her dozing in her chair while her television played an old episode of Family Feud. I placed her gray chunky knit blanket ov
er her and rounded up the dirty dishes from her room.
After dropping them off in the dishwasher, I scrawled a quick note for Ethan, letting him know there were still leftovers in the fridge if he made it home before I did.
Drew and Camille waited in Camille’s 4Runner when I stepped outside. I punched in the lock code on the front door and made my way to the vehicle.
“Hellllooo,” Camille greeted me. “You sexy bitch.”
I didn’t even flinch anymore. I was growing accustomed to her blunt nature.
“Hey,” I said with less enthusiasm as I climbed into the backseat.
“You okay, girl?” Camille twisted in her seat to look at me.
I shrugged. “I had to work at the museum this morning. Just woke up from a nap. Still a little tired, I guess.”
“Here,” she handed me an already opened white can. “It’s my new fave. You need it more than I do.”
I checked the writing on it. Coconut Berry Red Bull. It was new to me. I drank the rest of it in a few swallows. Surprisingly it wasn’t half bad. I made a mental note to pick some up next time I was at the grocery store.
Drew cranked the radio up loudly as we made our way into town.
“So Derek has already texted me twice asking if I was coming tonight,” Camille told us over the music.
“Don’t text him back,” Drew ordered. “Let him sweat.”
Camille bit her lip. “Okay, so don’t hate me. I kind of already told him I was coming.”
Drew shook his head. “This is why he treats you like this, Cam. Because you’re the sure thing always waiting in the wings. You need to make his ass work for it for a change.”
I listened to their back and forth debating Derek’s behavior most of the way to the rink. At some point, I must’ve zoned out because Camille said “I don’t think she heard it.”
“Heard what?” I leaned forward in my seat.
“This,” Drew said, turning the radio up louder.
Hot for Teacher blared from the speakers.
My back heated.
“Nice, Drew. Very subtle.”
Camille laughed and turned the volume down with her steering wheel controls. “So Teacher McHotstuff is really something, huh? And he’s new this year? Figures. We never had any sexy teachers when I was there.”
Drew tossed me a pointed look. “I’m not a liberty to say, but I think Mr. Singleton is going to bust a blood vessel before the year is over. He undresses our sweet little Em with his eyes every morning. I think they’re going to move him from history to human anatomy.”
Camille made a sound in her throat. “Damn, that’s hot. Em, are you going to hit that or what?”
Drew chuckled.
I was relived he hadn’t told her everything.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I sucked in a deep breath.
“He’s my teacher. So no,” I said without conviction. Damn Drew.
Camille whipped her head around after finding a parking spot. “Girl, come on. You think that’s never happened before? When I was in tenth grade a senior cheerleader sucked off a football coach on the bus back from an away game. I think he left his wife for her after she graduated.”
I sighed. “It’s not like that. It’s definitely not going to be like that.”
“Because Singleton is very much single,” Drew pointed out. “Not because Em doesn’t want to get on her knees for him. You should see her twitching in her seat in homeroom.”
Camille’s laugh pierced the night air as we got out of the SUV. “Emmmm…you so need to have a forbidden affair with your hot teacher. You need to do something besides run Ethan everywhere and work and take care of your mom. Live a little.”
“I’m here with you two now. Look at me, living and breathing and all. While not breaking any laws.” I tied my hoodie around my waist.
When I quit responding to their teasing, they moved back to discussing Derek.
Once inside the arena, we stopped at the concession stand and bought paper bags of popcorn and large sodas. We found some empty seats and sat together in the middle of a row halfway across the ice.
Drew had bought a program he and Camille were flipping through and ranking all the players based on hotness.
I watched as the game began. The puck moved so fast, I could hardly keep up with which team had possession.
I’d never been particularly interested in hockey, spending most of my time at Ethan’s baseball games. But number fourteen for Southeastern had captivated my attention.
He was by far the most skilled player on the ice. Quick and agile, I watched as he scored and assisted more goals than anyone. He got into a few fights and they were intense. He didn’t start them but he definitely finished them.
Stranger still, he seemed to be checking me out from the ice.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“You have an admirer,” Camille cooed at me. “Looks like Teacher McHotstuff isn’t the only one thinking about getting in your pants.”
“I can’t see his face through his helmet,” I murmured. “Does he even have all his teeth?”
He did move expertly on the ice, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued by his attention.
Camille sat her popcorn aside and flipped open the program. “Let’s see, where are you, number fourteen…” She continued flipping and muttering to herself while the mystery man in question got into a fight that landed him in the penalty box.
Once inside, he tore off his helmet and I gasped.
I placed my hand on Camille’s so she’d stop flipping the pages. It wasn’t necessary anymore.
“That’s him,” I said, nodding toward the man staring at me from the glass box.
“Yeah, I see that. Number fourteen. I was just trying to find out his name and—”
“No,” I said evenly while trying to breathe like normal. “That’s Teacher Mc—um, my history teacher. Right there. His name is Aiden Singleton. He’s number fourteen.”
Drew looked up from his phone and clapped his hands. “Well, slap my ass and call me a Kardashian.”
Camille looked from me to him and back again. Then down at the program in her lap. “Here he is. Singleton, Aiden. Number fourteen. Damn.” She watched me for a moment, then checked him out again. “Sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but I have to agree with Drew this time. That man right there, that hot as hell, sex on skates with the temper, staring like he’s picturing you naked—he is definitely, without a doubt, planning to get in your pants.”
“Again,” Drew added so low only I could hear.
For the next hour, Camille made jokes about Teacher McHotstuff and his “stick” and “scoring” and liking it rough.
I was half ready to choke her. And half hoping she was right.
Aiden scored twice and smiled in a way I’d never seen before. He looked different than he did at school. He looked…free. He got sent to the penalty box once more and he didn’t smile. Instead, I caught a glimpse of a dark look full of dirty promises.
It dawned on me that in another time, a year from now, I could be here as his girlfriend.
But for now, I was his student. Acting on how I felt would cost us both, but would undeniably cost him much, much more. Like his job, the respect of the community, and probably a teaching license he’d worked extremely hard to obtain.
The game was close to ending, with Derek and Aiden’s team winning four to two. I didn’t know if he’d speak to me afterward, and the anticipation was giving me serious anxiety. We’d have to hang around and wait for Derek either way. I had no choice as Camille was my ride.
So he’d see me. Soon. This would be the first time we’d seen one another outside of school since it had started.
Question was, what would he do about it?
7
AIDEN
I didn’t have a clue what she was doing at my hockey game. She was with a girl I’d seen at games before, an on and off side piece of a teammate of mine, so I was pretty certain she
wasn’t here for me. But damn if I didn’t play like she was from the moment I saw her.
“Singleton,” Coach Beck barked out when we huddled up. “Whatever has you moving your ass like that, keep it up!”
Derek Owens snorted like the pig that he was. “It’s a piece of ass that has him moving his like that.” He jerked his head up by where his girl sat next to Emersyn. “A young piece, am I right, Singleton? Matter of fact, don’t you teach where she goes to school?”
Even though my pads, I could feel how hard he nudged my ribcage. I shoved back just enough to let him know I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit.
We ended up winning 4 to 3. While my body was exhausted, my mind was moving a million miles a minute. I showered quickly in hopes that she’d still be around when I got out of the locker room.
Derek seemed to be hanging around, taking his time, watching me.
That wasn’t good.
Just as I was about to head out, he leaned in the doorway, blocking my exit.
“You hit that yet, Captain?”
His tone pissed me off but it was my last year. The last thing I needed was to get kicked off the team my final season because of bad conduct. I’d never have a chance in hell of coaching professionally if I knocked out a nineteen year old kid.
“Hit what, Derek? The puck you couldn’t seem to get ahold of? Or your girlfriend? Wait, that’s you that beats up on women, isn’t it?”
He held his hands up. “Easy, teach. Nothing wrong with wanting a tight little piece of teenage pussy. I’m a fan of it myself. And word on the street is, that one’s not broken in yet. So good luck to you.” He sneered. “Good luck getting to it before I do.” He raised an energy drink into the air before pouring something from a flask into it.
It took everything I had not to smash it into his skull.
Everything.
I stepped closer, as several of our teammates were now paying attention. “If you ever even think of speaking about her like that, much less speaking to her like that, I’ll break your fucking face, Owens. And I’ll enjoy every second of it.”
He bowed up, puffing his chest out toward me. “I’d love to see you do something about it, pretty boy. You’re all big and bad with a stick and pads. Let’s see how you handle yourself man to man.”