Wicked Chemistry

by R. L. Kenderson

  No more secret looks and no more flirting. He was practically a different student. It was almost as if he was angry with me.

  I supposed I should appreciate the one-eighty in his behavior, but it felt off, as if he was mad at me or something when he was the one who had broken the rules. And I never told anyone what had happened. No punishment, nothing on his or Lena’s permanent records. The guy should be thanking me.

  Although I had done it more for Lena. I didn’t know what rumors might fly once the school found out what had gone down between the two of them. And the school would have found out. High school rumors were awful. And, while I had recovered from my ordeal in high school, with much credit going to Adam, I didn’t know if Lena would find something like that in college. I couldn’t risk it. So, I hadn’t told anyone.

  I took my laptop from my bag, started it up, and went to where I had purchased my plane tickets. It had cost me a bit of money to move up my flight back to Texas, but it was worth it. If I moved before school started again, I wouldn’t have to use any vacation days.

  I was just about to make the changes when Becca walked through the door.

  “Hey,” she said, waving a manila envelope. “You got this in the mail today.”

  She handed it over, and I saw it was from Adam.

  He had talked about coming out to visit over Thanksgiving since I hadn’t gone home to visit my family. He promised he was going to bring Jamie, so I could finally meet her, but something came up for him. I was bummed. I’d really been looking forward to seeing him and meeting his special someone, and I really missed my family. I had gone and celebrated with Becca’s family, which was nice, but it wasn’t the same.

  I went in search of something sharp to open the envelope, so I didn’t rip anything.

  “I saw you called this morning. How did it go?”

  I paused in my search and set the envelope down. “I found a place and told the agent I’d take it.”

  Becca sat on the edge of my desk and stuck out her lip, and I laughed.

  “I’m going to miss you.” She pouted.

  “I’m going to miss you, too. But we’re only going to be a couple of miles away from each other. Plus, then you and Connor can run around naked without worrying about me.”

  Becca winced. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

  I had woken up early one morning and found Connor, naked, in the kitchen.

  I grinned at her. “I’m not.”

  She laughed and slapped my arm. “Back off. He’s mine.”

  I held my hands up in surrender.

  “So, when do you move in?”

  “After Christmas, before New Year’s. I’m coming back early to move and so we can celebrate together.”

  Becca’s smile fell, and she looked guilty.

  “What?”

  “Connor and I kind of already made plans. You said you weren’t coming back, so we decided to do something for just the two of us.” She stood up. “You know what? We’ll cancel them.”

  Of course, I was disappointed, but I wasn’t going to ruin her plans. “No, don’t you change a thing.”

  “But what about you?”

  I knew her question was out of concern, but I felt like an eighty-year-old spinster who had no one.

  “I haven’t changed my ticket yet. I’ll spend New Year’s in South Dakota and come back on the first. I’ll just have to plan to move the following weekend.”

  That was going to be rough. I’d come home from vacation, go to work the very next day, and then spend my next two days off moving. Sometimes adulting sucked.

  “I promise to help. And I know Connor will, too.”

  “You’d better,” I teased even though I was a little sad.

  Becca was moving on without me. We hadn’t even had very much time together before Connor came along. I knew life didn’t go as planned, but when I’d moved to Texas, I had thought we’d spend more time together. And, while I wasn’t angry or resentful, I couldn’t help but be dismayed about how things had turned out.

  The warning bell rang, and students started coming into the room. Becca said good-bye. I put Adam’s package to me in my bag, so I could read it later. It was my week to do detention after school, so I usually had time to kill then.

  I looked up as Amy walked into my room.

  “Good morning, Amy.”

  “Morning, Ms. F.”

  Mace was behind her.

  “Good morning, Mace.”

  Somewhere along the semester, after his behavior had changed, I’d stopped calling him Mr. Wagner.

  He simply nodded his head at me in silence, his blue eyes hard.

  I sat in detention and looked up at the clock. We only had ten minutes to go. There were two students with me today, and I had them sit in opposite corners, so they wouldn’t be tempted to talk. The hour had been uneventful, which was always good.

  I stacked the assignments I’d just finished grading into a pile and pulled out my phone to message Becca.

  Me: What’s going on tonight?

  Becca: Hanging out at Connor’s and spending the night.

  I was leaving town tomorrow for a whole week. I’d thought that maybe Becca and I would hang out before I left. I couldn’t help but feel hurt.

  Me: Do you want me to call an Uber in the morning then?

  Becca: For what?

  Me: The airport.

  I should probably double-check that an Uber would be cheaper than long-term parking since the airport was about forty minutes away.

  Becca: Oh shit. I forgot you were leaving tomorrow.

  Ouch. We had just talked about my trip that morning, yet she’d already forgotten about me.

  Becca: I will for sure still take you to the airport. What time do we need to leave the house?

  Me: 9 a.m.

  Becca: I’ll be there. Promise.

  Becca: Do you want to come over and hang out at Connor’s tonight?

  A pity invite? No, thank you.

  Me: Nah, I’m good. I need to finish packing for the trip and start packing for my move.

  That was mostly a lie. I’d been pretty much packed to go home for a week, and most of my stuff was in storage since I was using Becca’s stuff. I had to pack my clothes and other items in my room, but that was it.

  Becca: Okay, but let me know if you change your mind!

  Me: Sure will.

  I turned the screen on my phone off and set it facedown in case she texted again. I didn’t feel like messaging anymore at the moment.

  As I packed my laptop in my bag, I saw the manila envelope from Adam. Perfect timing. Whatever he’d sent me was bound to cheer me up.

  I found scissors in the middle drawer and sliced open my package. Inside, I found a handwritten letter, which was interesting since I couldn’t remember the last time I’d received something handwritten.

  And there was also a smaller envelope, which looked like a wedding invitation.

  I immediately grew excited. I hoped the wedding would be in the summer when school was out.

  I pulled the invitation out, and confused, I stared at it for a few moments.

  With great pleasure,

  Adam Michael Johnson

  &

  James William Penn

  invite you to join them

  at the celebration of their marriage.

  I didn’t understand.

  James. James. James.

  Then, it clicked.

  Jamie was short for James.

  Jamie wasn’t a her. Jamie was a him.

  I was crushed beyond words.

  I felt like our whole relationship, everything, had been—was a lie.

  I didn’t know if I even wanted to read what the letter said.

  “Ms. F?”

  “Huh?” I turned to look at the two detention students who were now standing at my desk.

  “Is it okay if we go?”

  I looked up at the clock. It was a couple of minutes past the end of detention. I hadn’t even noticed
.

  “Oh, sure.” I waved the two off.

  They left the room, and I picked up the letter.

  Dear Eden,

  I’m sure, by now, you’ve seen the wedding invitation, but if you haven’t, please open that first. It’s okay. I’ll wait.

  He was trying to be cute. I wasn’t having it.

  I know your first question is going to be about Jamie. Yes, he’s a guy. When I first told you about him, you automatically assumed that Jamie was a female. And I never corrected you. I didn’t know how to explain.

  I know that sounds lame. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was too chickenshit. You were my first real, serious relationship, and I felt like I would be letting you down.

  You and I had something special in college, and I was worried that you finding out about Jamie would take away from that. Please don’t let it. I still love you and always will. I just know now that it was and is a different kind of love than what I feel for Jamie. I didn’t realize how different until I met Jamie because, suddenly, everything felt right. It felt how it should be.

  I never lied to you back in school. I had no idea I was gay. Or maybe I just couldn’t admit it, even to myself.

  I feel bad that you had to find out this way, but I couldn’t tell you over the phone. And then I thought I would tell you when we came to visit. When our plans changed, I saw it as a sign to not say anything. That was the easy way out, and I took it.

  But, when Jamie proposed a month ago, I knew the time for secrecy was over. Because I want you at my wedding. And, more than that, I want you to stand beside me while I marry the man of my dreams.

  I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I will be waiting to hear from you.

  Love always,

  Adam

  A tear dropped onto the page as I let it fall into my lap.

  The bomb Adam had dropped on me left me feeling devastated.

  I didn’t care that Adam was gay, and he should know that, but I did care that he’d hidden it from me. I cared that he’d felt like he had to keep it from me. I was happy for him, no matter if Jamie was a woman or a man, but I was so hurt; I didn’t know what to do with my emotions.

  The first guy I’d ever loved, the man I had given my virginity to, the person I had almost married at one time, and the one who made me feel like I was beautiful wasn’t even attracted to me.

  All the tender memories I had of us, together in love, were a lie. A subconscious lie was still a lie. Adam had made me believe that someone would love me just the way I was. But how could I believe that when Adam didn’t know what straight men wanted?

  A part of me wished I had never opened Adam’s letter and that he’d never even told me.

  After sitting at my desk in a daze for who knew how long, I reluctantly picked myself up from my chair, grabbed my things, and walked to my car. I was now grateful that Becca and I didn’t have plans tonight. But, at the same time, I sure could use her shoulder to cry on right about now.

  I threw my stuff in the backseat, not caring if I damaged my laptop. I just wanted to get out of there.

  But, as soon as I started reversing, I could tell something wasn’t right.

  “Please, no,” I said to the universe.

  I pulled forward again, so my car wasn’t sticking out halfway despite the almost-empty parking lot, and I turned off the engine. I reluctantly walked around to the passenger side of my car, hoping I wouldn’t find what I suspected was there.

  “Damn it!”

  I had a fucking flat tire.

  Could this day get worse?

  I reached into my car, pulled my phone out of my purse, and dialed Becca. No answer. I called again in case she hadn’t heard it the first time. Still, no answer. I tried Connor. No answer there either.

  I dropped my hands on the hood of my car and hung my head in defeat. I felt like everything was betraying me. Adam, Becca, and now, my car.

  I suddenly felt very lonely. And upset with the world.

  I stepped back and kicked my tire with the heel of my ballet flat. It felt good, so I did it again. And again. My foot kind of hurt, so I switched feet and slammed my left heel down. “Fuck you, car.” Slam. “Fuck you, Adam.” Slam. “And fuck you, Becca.”

  I lifted my right leg again, but before I could vent more frustration, strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me off the ground. I was momentarily surprised because it took someone tall to lift me high enough that I couldn’t touch the pavement.

  But, after my shock wore off, I tried to wiggle out of the grasp surrounding me. “Let. Go.”

  “No. I’m not going to stand here and watch you hurt yourself.”

  Upon hearing that voice, the fight left me, and I collapsed in Mace’s arms.

  I had probably looked like a crazy person, and I felt foolish because someone had witnessed my tantrum. Of course, it was Mace who had witnessed it, and I needed him to stop touching me before I did something worse, like cry.

  “You can let me go now.”

  “Are you going to stop?”

  “No,” I said like a petulant child.

  His arms tightened.

  “Yes. Fine. Just let me go.”

  He hesitantly set me on my feet and loosened his grip. I didn’t try anything, and he stepped away.

  “It looks like you have a flat tire.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  I knew I wasn’t being very professional, and even though the school day was done, I was still his teacher. But, at the moment, I didn’t give a flying fuck.

  I raised my chin and crossed my arms.

  “Where are your keys?”

  “In the ignition.”

  Mace walked over to the driver’s side and removed my keys. He then snatched up my purse and my bag from the backseat. He did a visual sweep of my car before closing the doors and locking it.

  He came back around to me and took hold of my arm.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as he spun me around.

  “Giving you a ride.”

  I ripped my arm away. “I can’t go with you.”

  His eyebrow went up again. “Oh?” He looked around. “Because you have so many other options.”

  I looked down at the phone in my hand. Not so much as a text from Becca.

  “Fine.” But I didn’t want to let him completely win, so I snatched my purse from him. “But I can carry my stuff.”

  He let me take the purse without a fight but walked away with my workbag on his shoulder.

  It hadn’t escaped me that he was being the mature one in this situation. I would probably be embarrassed later, and I should really start acting my age.

  Logic and I just weren’t friends at the moment.

  I stomped behind Mace to his truck. He opened the passenger door for me.

  “I can open my own door.”

  “I’m not doing it to be a gentleman. I’m doing it to make sure you get in.”

  I curled my lip but got in. He put my bag in his backseat.

  After he got behind the wheel, I asked, “What are you doing at school so late? And why are you parked in the teachers’ parking lot?”

  Students weren’t supposed to park there.

  “I had practice today, and I stayed late to do extra drills. I pulled my truck around to the back because it’s closer to the door, and I had to take some stuff home with me for the break.”

  “Oh.” So much for finding a reason to reprimand him and get the upper hand.

  Mace drove for a couple of miles when I realized I’d never told him where my house was.

  “How do you know where I live?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then, how do you know where to go?”

  “Because I’m not taking you home.”

  I’d been slouching in my seat up until that point, but his words had me straightening. “Where are we going?” I asked, a little alarmed.

  Mace looked at me, the first hint of hum
or in his blue eyes. “Don’t worry, Teach. I’m not going to kill you or anything.”

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  His eyebrow went up again. I was beginning to hate that thing. It was full of judgment.

  “I honestly didn’t think that about you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me,” I answered truthfully.

  He turned his attention back to the road. No more words were spoken until we pulled into a small parking lot. The Corner Bar & Grill was lit up on the sign on the building, which was ironic because the building was nowhere near a corner and looked more bar than grill.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Eating.”

  “What if I don’t want to eat?”

  “Then, you can watch me eat.”

  “That doesn’t sound like any fun.”

  Mace sighed as he pulled his keys from the ignition and turned to face me, resting one muscular forearm over the steering wheel. “Look, you are obviously having a bad night. I thought maybe you could use some greasy food, a drink or two, and a relaxing atmosphere. But, if you’d rather go home, then I’ll take you there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “After I eat.” Mace swung around, opened his door, and got out.

  “Hey.”

  “Get your ass out of the truck, Eden,” he said and closed the door.

  I scrambled out of my door after him. “Mace.”

  He ignored me.

  “Mace.”

  He turned and looked at me when he reached the door. “What?”

  “You can’t call me Eden.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I’m your teacher.”

  “I watched you pick a fight with your car, and you also just had your ass sitting in my truck. I think we’re on a first-name basis.”

  My cheeks heated. “That’s hardly the point.”

  Mace sighed again as if he was getting really tired of explaining things to me. “Okay then, how about this? Your ass is mine. You know it, and I know it. It’s only a matter of time. Is that a good enough reason for you?”

  “No,” I squeaked out.

  Mace shrugged and opened the front door. “Suit yourself. But I’m going inside and eating.”