by A. G. Hobson
“Why are you shivering?” He asks, devouring me with his eyes.
“Because… I…” I can’t put any words together to describe how I feel. I like him so much and I can’t believe that he is displaying feelings for me.
He gets closer to and leans down touching my forehead with his nose. He slowly inhales and I hold my breath waiting to see what’s next. He plants a soft sensual kiss onto my hairline. I almost don’t feel it. And as quickly as he approached me and lifted me from my seat, he releases me and disappears down the hall then up the stairs. I stand there in shock. After a few minutes, I grab my things and head back to the lunchroom. When I get there, I toss my lunch and tray. I scan the room to see the students scuffling off to get back to their classes.
“Soooo, I saw you md Mr. Alexander together.” Stacia walks up behind me.
“Yeah, Mrs. Northington asked him to help with senior activities. And he agreed. So, now we have to work together. And you know he doesn’t like students to call him that. He says he is not a teacher yet.”
“I know.” She pauses. “Well, what happened?”
“Nothing. He just went over some of my ideas.”
“You know I’ve been media stalking him for months. Did he say anything about me?”
“No. Why would he say something to me?”
“We’ve been chatting on Facebook. We inbox one another from time to time and I’ve learned quite a bit. I thought we had a connection but he hasn’t said anything to me in person. It’s so frustrating. I want him, so fucking bad.” She pouts.
“Don’t we all?” I can’t tell her about the brush of his lips against my forehead. She may tell her mother out of jealousy.
“I know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He said he is not the relationship type. He also says that he is going to hang around the school throughout the entire year. I guess to help Mrs. Northington. When do you see him again?”
I will not tell her about our meetings after school. “I don’t know yet. He is supposed to get back to me.”
“Oh okay. Keep it professional Montana. He is too much man for you.” She smirks and walks out of the lunchroom.
Fuck! I don’t have anyone in this damned school to talk to about this. Not even Tins.
Chapter 8
That day after school, Hayden and I met in the library, which was last week. He was totally different because Mrs. Northington and the entire senior committee was asked to join us to announce that he would be assisting us. He supported my ideas about London and they all loved it. The secondary idea. Florida was received as well. She said we would decide based on parental feedback. The parents loved the idea of their children getting to travel outside of the country. Some said that they would love to place a deposit ASAP. They even asked if we could add Paris to the trip, which made me happy. Because my parents are there.
Hayden watched me with a distant glare that day. It’s like he was looking through me. It almost frightened me, but I was too infatuated with him to be afraid. I took a page from Stacia and Breeze’s book. I friended him on social media and he quickly accepted. I stared at his photos. He’s traveled so much. He has all kinds of pics of him frolicking with other females. But never the same one. He has tons of friends almost to his limit on Facebook. I talked to Breeze about him and she screamed through the phone when I mentioned the kiss on my forehead. She wants me to have sex with him but I’m afraid. I want my first time to be special. And even though he is my obsession right now, he is not the first-time material.
Our meeting on Thursday was quick and eventful. He walked me to my car afterward and bid me a farewell. I thought he would go for another kiss, maybe on the lips this time but nothing. I will chalk that up to not getting in trouble with faculty. He isn’t particularly employed by the school but his internship would be jeopardized. But boy is he flirting hard. He watches me in the halls. His glare is always deep and distant. He is friendly now but never smiles. Not at all. I don’t know his motives but he wants something from me and I’m guessing it’s not a relationship. Stacia hasn’t been calling me or eating lunch with me this week. She caught Hayden watching me. She was so upset that she canceled our outing. I am back to no friends. I don’t mind being alone, especially because Tinsley has Hersch. I knew once mom begin traveling back and forth, she would come home less and less. I mostly sit around the house watching TV and playing on my phone or tablet. I wish I had someone to hang out with. It’s my senior year and I’m stuck in the house yet another weekend.
I take a shower and scurry to my room holding my towel clenched in my fist. I slip into a pair of my fave Pj’s and lie across my bed. I look out of the window and the butterflies are gone. Not even my faithful black on remains. I sigh and grab my tablet. When I open the Facebook app, I see that I got a message. I open it and I see Hayden’s profile pic glaring back at me. My heart begins to thump. I tap the message and start reading.
Hey Montana. I’m just sitting here thinking about what you wore today. It wasn’t revealing or anything just subtle and sexy as usual. Why do you torture me so much with your unintentional sensuality and your flirtatious eye batting? When you smile it’s almost sinful. What that yellow sweater does to your curves should be a sin. I’ve tried not to think of you in that way but my mind won’t think about anything else. How about we grab some food if you’re not busy? Tonight perhaps?
So, he is basically sexually attracted to me and nothing else. How do I respond to that? He is so used to getting in between girls’ legs that he automatically thinks that he will and can. I really like him but his manners are to be announced.
I wait before I respond. I carefully think about what I will say back. After a few minutes, I began typing.
So, hello Hayden. I am so flattered that you liked my ensemble today. I try hard to put together something that will spark the lustiness out of guys when I come to school, which is why I’m disappointed that that’s what you led with. If you assumed that I’m into you, you’re right. But I’m not the type of girl that sends invitations for sex through the DM’s. I would love to go out and eat but not if sex is expected. If you want a quirky good time with a goofy girl that loves to laugh, something I’ve never seen you do, then yes let’s go eat. If not, thanks but no thanks.
I can’t believe my hand actually hit send. He will never speak to me again. I just never pegged him for a dick. Why would he want to pluck my field when there are girls throwing their flowers in the ring? I wait for an answer but he is obviously not into me for anything but a ‘good time’. I thought more of him.
Montana, I sincerely apologize. That was meant to be a compliment but I see that you are more unique than I thought. I express myself a little brash when I’m over-confident. I did think that you liked me but usually girls love comments about their body and what they wear. It's why you guys work so hard and take so long to get ready in the morning, right? I would love to get a bite if you would still have me. If it wasn’t clear before, I’m just infatuated with you, with your very presence. You have an aura that blinds me. You are the very essence of what I’ve been looking for. I still want you very much but I’m willing to wait and see what it is that you require of me. Can I pick you up? Just for dinner, I swear.
I respond with my address.
He answers with only the words ‘eight o’clock’. I hop up from my bed and hurry over to my closet. What should I wear? I don’t want to mislead him by wearing something provocative. And I don’t want to turn him completely off. I’m such a hypocrite with all of the sex dreams I’ve been having about him. I get him worked up in my head and then turn him down. You would think that he would leave me be in my slumber but he always comes back.
Eight approaches way too quickly. I hear an alarm and then my doorbell rings. My nerves are getting the best of me. I’m trembling because we’ll be alone. I look down at my black ruffled mini skirt and run my hands along to sides. The ruffles bounce back as I smooth them down. I adjust my foot in the black ankle booties and admire my spi
der webbed netted tights. The form fitted red Lycra turtleneck style long sleeve bodysuit top is comfortably snapped between my legs. I added a chunky silver linked necklace with a cross dangling at the end, and a bracelet to match. I take a deep breath and walk down the stairs. I get to the front door and my hand is shaking uncontrollably as I reach for the knob. I turn and pull the door open to catch Hayden walking off of the porch.
“Hayden?” He turns to look at me and he is looking absolutely sinful. He is wearing his usual dark colors, beginning with a black navy style double breasted pea coat, a black ribbed shawl collared sweater dark gray slacks and a pair of black designer men dress boots. His hair is freshly cut and neat; the cropped curly afro now shaped more like a Mohawk and thin at the sides.
He turns around and our eyes lock. His eye color is so dark that I can’t tell what color it is. He steps back up the stairs onto the porch.
“Hey, I thought you changed your mind when you didn’t answer.” He looks me over. “You look really nice.”
“You too.” My voice trembles as the words come out.
“Can I come in? Or are you coming out?” He hitches his brow.
I step aside and wave my hand toward the living room. “Come in.” And for the first time, Hayden smiles. It’s not a bright smile or even happy but it’s the sexiest dark smile displayed on a human face. It’s so sinister I stare at him as he passes and he doesn’t look away. He just smiles at me. All of a sudden, something is telling me to run from him.
I close and lock the door then clasp my hands behind my back. He rips his eyes from me and scans the inside of my house.
“Nice place.” He slides his coat off. I step up and grab it from him. “We’re alone?” He says as he sits on the couch.
“Yes. But…” I lie his coat over the arm of where he is sitting.
“No worries. I’ll be on my best behavior tonight.”
I chuckle at his gesture. I don’t know if he is joking or serious. Because he is not laughing.
“Great.” I sigh and look around the room. “You can have a seat and I’ll be right back.” I go to the closet next to the door, grab my short leather bomber jacket and purse, then go back to the living room. Hayden now has his foot propped on the other knee. His hand grips his ankle and his eyes rest on me as I re-enter. “I’m ready.” After I slide my arms into my jacket, I lift my hands from my sides and slam them back down with my purse clenched tightly in my hand.
He stands and grabs his coat. “Let’s go.”
He leads the way as I take my keys from my purse. When we exit the house, I lock the door and notice that he isn’t driving his car. I look to see him waking up to a black Tesla Model S. He clicks the alarm and walks around to the passenger side door. When he opens it, he looks back at me then waves for me to get inside and I do. I bend to get into the seat and place my feet in one after the other. He closes the door like a gentleman and I have to smile on the inside. This is actually happening. He scurries around the car and opens the driver side door. He gets in and takes a deep breath.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.” I blush. He starts the engine and takes off. I steal a peek of him as he pulls from my drive. How is he so handsome? He face is flawless. I can’t believe he wants to go out with me. Maybe he only wants sex. Maybe that’s his game. He pretends not to be interested then makes his move knowing that any girl would be flattered. But why me? He could have any girl in that school and he probably has. Am I just a conquest of his? I frown as I think about how many girls he may have slept with, including Stacia. Why did I automatically trust him?
“Hey there.” He reaches over and nudges me. I smirk.
“Hey.”
“Penny for your thoughts. Why are you so quiet?” He asks as he drives.
“I was just thinking… Why do you like me? Why do you want to go out with me? I mean…”
“Montana…” He huffs. “Are you going to ask me that every time we’re together? I like you. I really like you. That’s it. Stop overthinking.”
“I just don’t understand why. You could literally have anyone you want. I mean I’m over the fucking moon, but I can’t wrap my mind around why.”
“Listen. I can’t do anything but show you that I’m into you. Just promise me you’ll go with the flow.”
“As long as the flow doesn’t include…”
“Don’t finish that sentence. I know where you stand. I’m many things, a dirt bag isn’t one of them. I don’t have to take anything from anyone.”
“You’re right. You don’t have to seduce me. I apologize. It’s just so hard to believe.” I hate my inner dilemmas.
He sighs and looks over toward me again. “You are so frustrating. People like you make things so difficult. Why are you so skeptical of everything and everyone? Skeptics are known to be the first tested and the first to fail.”
“What does that mean?” I get super irritated.
“Never mind. Let’s just enjoy this evening.” He glares at the road.
Chapter 9
I sit quietly for the rest of the ride. I enjoy the scenic route that he takes. He drives the interstate and we end up passing through a wooded area. The fall colors of the leaves are beautiful like a painting in moonlit canvas. The red, yellows and orange colors always remind me that the end of the year is approaching swiftly. My eyes are fixed on the trees when the car pulls up to a house. The house is amazing. I look at the detail of it. It’s a beautiful colonial style home. It is chestnut brown in color and has several windows lined across the front. Dark wooden shutters adorn each window and a gorgeous red oak porch wraps around the front of the house almost connecting in the rear. He doesn’t say anything as we drive up the winding road toward the house. I’m so in awe with the entire property I just watch. When he reaches the front of the house he stops. He finally looks over at me and places the car into park. I smile and plop my hands in my lap. I shrug my shoulders.
“Is this your home? It’s beautiful.” I say gawking at the property.
He looks up at the house and proceeds to get out without saying a word. He walks around and opens my door. He takes my hand and lifts me from the car. He keeps hold of my hand and gently pulls me along as he approaches the porch of the house. We walk up the staircase to the front door. It is a solid wooden door. He turns the brass knob and it opens. He looks back at me and guides me inside. The house immediately feels nostalgic. I’ve never been inside of this house before but it seems like I know it. We step into a foyer and I look around everything seems familiar down to the smell. I look around the room while Hayden’s warm hand grips mine. He takes his thumb and massages the back of my hand. I can’t tear my eyes from the dated but fascinating decor.
I scan the living room as we slowly enter. Expensive paintings adorn the striped wallpapered walls. Brass light fixtures hang beside a real grandfather clock. Artistic clutter fills the dimly lit space. Antique, dark burgundy, Victorian couches sit in the center of the room and a chaise aligns the back wall before entering the dining area. I can’t even focus on Hayden rubbing my hand because I’m entranced by my surroundings. We proceed to the dining area and there is a huge table that is completely set sitting in the center like in a movie. It is a beautiful cherry oak formal table with about ten chairs gathered around it. The chairs are dark red and have paisley fabric with high backs. It resembles a kings table with royal seats. A large china cabinet sits against the wall with gold trimmed plates and antique figurines inside. There are paintings on the wall in the room as well. They look ancient but I swear there is one of Hayden and a family that reminds me of the picture I saw in my dream. I study the picture as we pass it. There is a young woman in the painting that is stunningly beautiful. Her hair is long and has waves flowing down to her elbows. A young man, maybe even a teenager, sits in the middle of Hayden and the young woman. He reminds me of Hayden just younger and softer looking. I study the painting and my eyes travel to a woman that is ethnic looking but not black. She could be Mid
dle Eastern or Hispanic. Her eyes are dark like Hayden’s. I would even dare say she looks evil. Not one person is smiling. The last man in the painting is older maybe between forty and fifty. He has curly hair the grazes the nape of his neck just beneath his ears. His eyes are a strange shade of brown or maybe even hazel. The entire painting gives me the creeps. Hayden senses my discomfort and finally breaks his silence.
“This is my family.” He points toward the painting. “This is my mother, Gayle.” His fingers graze the portrait as he approaches it still holding my hand. “This is my father, Santana. My sister and my brother D’Naya and Bryant.” He looks back at me. “We’re having dinner with them. Follow me, everyone is in the study.”
We walk through the dining area into a library type room. It has shelves upon shelves of books, Victorian couches similar to the one in the living room. A chess table that sits on the side and a vintage antique brass gramophone phonograph lowly playing staticky music. I look to each couch and his family is sitting politely having pleasant exchanges amongst one another. They immediately pause as we enter. His father stands and walks over to the phonograph and lifts the needle from the record.