by Bellus, HJ
“Stop, you just need time.”
I’ve been through several of Scout’s break-ups. Days on end of junk food, chick flicks, take-out, and lots of tears, but this time I wasn’t there. Then the guilt hits; I’m happy right now living on cloud nine.
“Olivia, stop. I can practically hear your guilt screaming from your thoughts.”
I know this is different for many reasons. One being Oren and the second one is, I really thought Taylor was the real deal. They’d been ring shopping, moved in together, and were inseparable.
“After I check out today, I’m going home for a few weeks, so don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll be over to keep you company.”
“Only a couple times, O, you need to be with Oren, living life.”
“Did I hear my name?”
We both look up from our embraced hold to see Oren in the doorway in his sleek uniform and well-styled hair. My vision flicks up to the clock and see the minutes have flown by. Scout wipes the tears from under her eyes and then faces the wall opposite of Oren.
He picks up on the situation and instantly turns to walk back out the room.
“Stay, Oren, we have to go get our kids in about five minutes.” I walk over to him and have to restrain from kissing the hell out of him.
“Is she okay?”
I nod yes, but whisper no. He mouths sorry.
“Don’t be. It won’t be the last time you walk in on us like this.” I pet his shoulder, remembering how sexy he is topless. “Broken heart.”
Scout bounds past us, recovering like a champ; it’s what she does. “I’ll see you guys outside.”
Once she’s out of earshot, I tell Oren. “I want to kill him or at least chop his nuts off.”
“What have I told you about premeditated crime?”
“Seriously, he cheated on her, she wanted to fix it, then he left her.”
“Relationships are hard and not everything is cut and dry.”
“So, you’re defending him?” I bristle up.
He grabs my shoulders, squaring me up to him. “In no way am I saying that. What I’m trying to say is that maybe Scout is better off without him.”
“I really thought he was the one for her.”
He shrugs. “This is the guy whose cousin had pasta tossed on you, right?”
I begin locking the door and only answer with a nod.
“Hey, I like him because it got me into your pants quicker.”
I turn in a flash to him to find his devilish jokester smile on his face. “I’m kidding, Olivia. Not about liking him or in your pants, but bringing us together more than we were already drawn together.”
“What happened to whose pants?” We both turn to see Kane in the hall holding a pink ticket.
“What are you doing, Kane?” I push past Oren.
“Got a pink slip.”
“I see that.” Raising an eyebrow. “For?”
“That mean third grade teacher yelled at a bunch of us and she gave me this.”
“Who else got one?”
“Just me.”
My blood instantly boils. One, it’s the last day of school for shit’s sake and two, Kane is one of those students teachers easily target in situations like this.
“I swear Miss Olander, I didn’t do anything. A bunch of second graders found a cat on the playground and were holding it under a sprinkler.”
I kneel down, so I’m on his level. “We’ve talked about this, Kane. Was something happening that wasn’t right?”
He nods. I hate damn cats and probably would’ve been one of the kids tormenting it.
“Did you stand up for the right thing?”
He shakes his head side to side, his lower lips trembling. “But I didn’t do it. All I did was laugh and I’m real sorry about that Miss Olander.”
I take the pink slip from this hand wad it up, step in the classroom and toss it in the bin. It’s one of the few times I’ve gone against another teacher, but will always fight for my students, even if it’s the one who's given me an ulcer over the course of the year.
Oren gives me a sideways look as I shut the door behind me and grab Kane’s hand.
“No principal’s office today or lunch detention. You’ll be eating outside with the rest of the school, Officer Oren, and myself.”
“I promise that I just laughed. I’m sorry, teacher.”
I ruffle his hair. “I probably would’ve laughed too, buddy.”
Oren muffles a laugh of his own, behind a cough as Kane grabs his hand and we walk outside to the barbecue. It’s a bright, beautiful day with lots of vibrating energy zooming around everywhere. I pull down my Ray Bans and search for my class lined up. They just finished up the last carnival and recess put on by the parent teacher association.
“They’re over there, Miss Olander.” Kane nods with his head towards the end of the pavement, near the swings.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Oren stops walking and kneels down by Kane. “You know what, buddy?”
“Uh.”
“We’re not all given equal playing fields but it’s our actions that shape us. You’re lucky to have a teacher who believes in you.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna miss her and I know about playing fields because my sister always talks about getting to home base.”
The horrifying look on Oren’s face sends me into a fit of giggles. I fight to talk between laughter. “He has a high school sister.”
“Kane, I gave you a pink slip. Get inside.” The shout is so loud it stops everyone in their tracks. It’s time I go head to head with Mrs. Cat Shit in the Hair.
“Officer Oren, can you take Kane over to join the rest of the class and line them up for the lunch line?”
The overweight, squatty, greasy-haired, Mrs. Donald charges me. I know she won’t back down and is hell bent on bullying me, so I walk to the grill where our principal is flipping burgers. She’s right on my heels, foaming at the mouth.
“Why is Kane out here?” she asks, gaining the attention of Mrs. Williams, our principal.
“Why didn’t the rest of the students get pink slips?”
She avoids my question. “That’s not the point. He needs to be in the office for lunch detention.”
“I don’t agree.”
“What is going on?” Mrs. Williams asks, wiping her hands on the front of her apron and turning to both of us.
Cat shit blurts before I have the chance to speak. “I gave Kane a pink slip. That boy needs to be whipped into shape before he gets to me in third grade.”
“I threw it away and brought him out here with me. It was unnecessary and he was the only one to get one out of a group of boys.”
“I said no one in the office today,” Mrs. Williams who’s always professional and stern states. “Thank you for bringing him out here, Olivia, this is a day of celebration for the students and teachers.”
She goes back to cooking with the vice-principal and other office staff. I use one of Kane’s signature moves, but peer around making sure no one else sees me. I hold one fist up and use my other hand in a winding motion until my middle fingers is fully saluting her and then march off to find my class.
I will make it my mission to be teaching third grade by the time Kane gets there. It will be hell or high water.
“Miss Olander!” a choir of little voices yell. I shade my eyes and then spot my little group waving like mad. Amy is in the front of the line leading while Oren is in the back following her instructions. It makes me laugh. Even from the back of the line he has them all lined up with plates and plastic ware and even half through the first part of the line.
“Thanks,” I whisper, clutching my pinky to his.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I nod, not going into detail seeing Kane right in front of him.
“I’ll go to the front of the line and get my plate, then pick a spot in the grass for the class to sit.”
The last day of school usually generates a weird storm of emotions ranging
from anxiety to excitement. Anxiety and sadness of letting my students go and excitement for my freedom. It’s something I can’t explain, but I’ve experienced the last three years. Oddly, today it's just excitement filling me from head to toe and that reason is Oren O’Brien; I have someone this summer besides Pedro and Scout.
I find the perfect sunny place for the class and the students start sitting next to me. A couple of the girls decide it would be best if girls sat on one half of the circle and the boys on the other with the “Occifer” as most of them pronounce it.
I let them have their fun and don’t set up much of any structure in the celebration of the last day. I notice Kane is hot on Oren’s heels and makes sure to get the piece of grass right next to him. The next four and half minutes are peacefully quiet as the little ones chow down on their hot dogs or hamburgers, chips, and potato salad.
I nibble on my overdone burger, but stare at Oren most of the time, watching him eat just as quickly as the students. He’s always so good with the kids. Soon a game of Duck Duck Goose breaks out and our little group merges with Scout’s class, who is all finished up eating. We had a reading partner day with her class every Wednesday, so the students know each other quite well.
“Want mine?” I offer Oren my plate. He’s out of breath and finally gave up on the game since each kid kept picking him.
“Yes, I’m starving. That meal did nothing for me.”
Scout laughs out loud. “You know what they say about men with big appetites, right?”
“Scout,” I warn her.
“What?” Oren smirks with a dab of mustard on the corner of his lips. He’s totally intrigued to hear the answer.
“I hear,” she plucks at the wrapper on her water bottle, “I hear they have big appetites.”
My tensed up butt cheeks relax. I’ve come a long way but discussing and joking about Oren’s dick size at the end of the year barbecue is way off my comfort radar.
We all share a laugh. Oren polishes off the plate and then joins in on a game of shooting hoops with some older students.
It’s the perfect wrap to a school year that brought me more surprises than I ever anticipated and just the beginning to finding THE BIG O with Oren.
The End
Just kidding, my story isn’t over yet! My fairytale has just begun.
14
My Little Pony For The Win
Dear Diary,
The time has come to have dinner at Dad’s with the boyfriend. Yes, I said boyfriend. I openly call Oren boyfriend. It’s like I leaped out of the closet. I’m not ashamed or insecure of who I am anymore. Oren’s brought out the inner girl in me. We are three weeks into the best summer ever.
Love, O
PS- I still have my V card.
“Hey, Pops.” Oscar yaps and bites at Oren’s ankles as we enter the foyer.
“In the kitchen, Olivia.”
I clutch to Oren’s hand and guide him through my childhood home. He has Pedro the psycho under one arm. Pedro and Oscar have a love hate relationship at best. One minute they’re playing, then fighting, and then dry humping each other.
“You can set him down,” I say to Oren.
“They’re not going to kill each other?” he asks, protecting Pedro in his arms.
“Naw, they love to hate each other.”
“Steaks are on, kids. Scout and her family are already in the backyard.” Dad rounds the corner in one of the few thousands aprons I’ve gifted him with on Father’s Day. “Beer, Oren?”
“Nice to see you too, Pops.” I let go of Oren’s hand and wrap my dad up into a hug.
I can’t remember the last time we had dinner at our house instead of Scout’s. Dad’s chipper, moving about the kitchen, and handing Oren his favorite beer, Miller Genuine Draft. I don’t attempt to tell my dad that Oren’s more of a Crown Royal guy.
My sexy boyfriend rolls up the cuffs of his baby blue button shirt and pops a top with my dad. He’s dressed in a casual sexy fashion in khaki shorts, a button up, and flip-flops. He has every single one of my nerves on high alert right now, making it very freaking awkward in the house I was raised in.
Oren and Dad fall into easy conversation about his baby aka his car. I swear I see my dad’s chest puff out when Oren tells him it runs better than it ever has. I leave the two to chat it up about cars, engines, and all things oil related. The backyard is gorgeous in full bloom with Dad’s flowers and sprouting garden.
“The hooker is here,” Scout announces.
Neither her mom or dad laugh or roll their eyes because it’s Scout. If she would’ve called me by name then we all would’ve been concerned.
“Hey.”
I give all three of them a quick hug and pour myself one of Scout’s margaritas, taking the seat next to her.
“What’s been keeping you busy?” I ask her.
“Netflix and Oreos.”
“Impressive,” I mock.
“And you?” she asks, raising her drink to her lips.
“Just enjoying the sunshine,” I reply.
“And by sunshine, you mean dick.”
I don’t even try to scold her and down my first tart and delicious margarita. Her mom takes care of it, threatening to wash her mouth out with soap. If I had an orgasm for every single time her mom threatened Scout with this I’d be a well-laid whore.
Dad and Oren bust out the backdoor still deep in conversation. Pops now has given Oren a second beer as he’s holding two now. My heart is content watching the two of them from afar. It’s picture perfect and my future.
Scout’s dad gets up and joins the men, which I’m sure is to avoid the two women in his life arguing. Life feels so right in this moment I can hardly stand it.
“You still a virgin?” I whip my head towards Scout, but know it didn’t come from her. Her mom has her head tilted to the side, waiting for an answer. I pour myself another drink before answering her.
“So?” Scout drums her nails on the glass top of the patio set.
“We haven’t yet.” An instant brain freeze hits me as I down over half the glass of yummy goodness.
“Why?” Scout and her mom both fire off in unison.
I only shrug. “We’ve been dating and getting to know each other.”
“Oh, I’d show that boy the ropes,” Scout’s mom says with a dreamy look in her eye. I don’t miss the fact she’s staring at Oren, who’s still near the grill with the guys. He’s beyond dreamy with his dark brown hair, brown eyes, well-built body, and all-American good boy looks. He’s a walking and talking Captain America.
“You’re waiting to fall in love aren’t you?” Scout asks.
I nod. “And I’ve fallen head over heels for the man.”
“Then?” she pries.
“I’m letting him set the pace.”
“Shit. I’m going to have to pull out all the toys tonight,” Scout’s mom huffs out, kicking her sandal up on the table. “He’s handsome and a gentleman. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, Olivia, he’s a keeper.”
“No shit, she’s right. I’ve been on Tinder and it’s just jam packed with creeps.”
“You’re already on Tinder?” I ask, shocked.
“Yeah, I saw fuckface out with his new woman and figured I need some damn arm candy pronto.”
“Oh, Scout.” Her mom pats her forearm. “You are an idiot.”
“I agree with your mom. Just let it happen.”
Before either of us have a chance to harass Scout further, the men join us. Pops with a plate of piping steaks and Scout’s mom jumping to uncover her famous macaroni salad and a few others, I scoot the chair out for Oren to sit by me and he does.
“Your dad won’t quit giving me beers.”
“I’ve downed three margaritas now courtesy of Scout and inquiring minds.”
Oren leans over and kisses my forehead. Silence bathes the table and I know all eyes are on us. “Thank you.”
Oren’s never extended an explanation on his family situation and I
know it means a lot to him bringing him to my home. I warned him about our modge podge situation and he never blinked an eye before throwing himself into our vortex.
“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. It’s the first I’ve spoken those three words to him and it only seems perfect in this situation set in the backyard I grew up in.
All eyes hone in even more on us and I feel Oren squeeze my hand. He doesn’t need to answer me back. He’s the reason I was brave enough to let the words slip off my tongue.
Dad passes the steak around and just like any other night when our families come together, we all fall into a comfortable conversation. The food is delicious and the drinks float around the table. Dad makes sure Oren’s beer bottle never goes empty. It’s the happy pitch to his voice and the giddy-up in his go that I know he’s prouder than a pig in shit.
“Next week is our annual camping trip,” Pops announces.
“I hear the fishing is like no other this year up in the mountains,” Scout’s dad replies, slugging his beer and then belching.
The conversation rolls on and then the awkward silence moment ensues as all eyes are on us once again.
“Olivia.” Dad strums the side of his beer bottle.
“I’ll be there. It’s tradition, right?”
As if kittens were being slayed and unicorns dehorned, the atmosphere morphs into an alien anal situation.
Dad nods as his nails strum the bottle faster as the rest of the audience is on the edge of their seats.
“I’ll bring the s'mores stuff like always.”
And then the cat and mouse game ensues, I just wait for the first one to take the bait. Scout’s mom is out as she excuses herself, taking everyone’s plate into the house and starts dishes.
Dad starts several sentences and never is able to finish any of them. I had my money on Scout and she comes through like a true thoroughbred champ.
“Okay, is Mr. Lady Boner camping or not? I mean, like how serious is this shit?” Scout crosses her arms and stares me down. “I mean, is he in or not?”
Scout knows damn well her question leads in so many other directions, but her don’t give a shit attitude screams across the table.
“No hablo Inglais, Culo."