Beautiful Torment

by Paige Laurens

  I don’t know what Mr. Harrington’s interest in Nick was all about yesterday, but I’m pretending it means something. All night, whenever I closed my eyes, all I saw was his wink. It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever witnessed, and what provokes me to wear my tight shirt today. I even pack a hairbrush in my book bag so I can keep my hair down after gym.

  I let my mind wander all morning, as I get ready, and then as I drive to pick up Chloe.

  What if he really does like me too?

  All the staring and glaring, the small moments, the semi-flirty conversations… It’s possible, isn’t it?

  I realize we could never actually do anything, so I don’t know what I hope to accomplish in trying to all of a sudden look better today, or why I want to impress him, but I do.

  I’m not delusional.

  I know my silly little crush will lead me nowhere.

  It’s not like I can ask him to sit in the lunchroom with me, or date me. We’ll never kiss by my locker, go to prom, or fall madly in love.

  I’m aware how unreal this is.

  How this is all just me hoping for a miracle, because he probably doesn’t feel anything towards me, other than I’m his student.

  But that’s okay.

  The idea alone makes me feel alive. I want to soak in each day and bask in its glory. My crush is different than anything I’ve felt before, wrong and yet so amazingly right.

  “Who’s Mr. Harrington?” Gracie asks as we wait outside Chloe’s house.

  “Huh?” I play coy.

  “You practically moaned his name in your sleep last night,” she laughs.

  “I did not!” I’m sure I’m turning red.

  “You so did!” She shouts. “I was on my way to the bathroom at like 1am and I heard it, loud and clear.”

  “Shut up,” I say, just as Chloe opens the passenger’s side door.

  “You’re so early, Luci,” Chloe groans, fumbling with her seatbelt.

  I back out of her driveway as she pulls the visor down and starts putting on her makeup. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. I never wear makeup, ever. Little do they know, I have blush and mascara in my backpack for later.

  So stupid!

  “She woke me up early too, Chloe,” Gracie sighs, betraying me.

  “Well, I have to finish this math thing before class and I need to ask Mrs. Stalling something,” I lie.

  “Why didn’t you ask her yesterday when you stayed after school and made me take the bus?” Gracie pouts.

  I ignore her as I pull into my parking space at school.

  “Hey, I just noticed - your hair’s down,” Chloe shrieks. “It looks awesome!”

  “Thanks,” I mumble, shutting the car off. “Guess I better get to math before everyone else does.”

  I stop at my locker briefly before taking the long way to the basement, allowing me to walk down the hallway in which Mr. Harrington’s classroom sits at the very end.

  I just want to see how early he gets here.

  My heart races as I turn the corner, already anticipating seeing him, of getting to catch an additional glimpse this early in the day. I drop my book bag on the floor, letting the loud echo bounce off the empty halls of MTHS. His door is closed and the lights are out. I’m too early. I start arguing with myself over how pathetic this is and I don’t hear the footsteps.

  “Luci?” I jump when he says my name, his smooth, deep voice extra raspy in the early morning. I close my eyes, imagining how his tongue sits between his teeth as he makes the “L” sound. “Are you okay?”

  I brace myself before turning around.

  He’s in a peacoat, his hair so freshly gelled that it looks almost black. He’s flushed and his eyes are watery, probably from the outside cold. He bends down, slinging his own bag higher over his shoulder as he picks up mine.

  “Yeah?” I let out a breathy sigh and he smiles. “Thanks,” I smile back as he hands me my bag. Our fingers touch and we both pull back from the shock - literally.

  “Sorry!” he laughs. “Gotta love the imbalance of electrical charges,” he sheepishly holds up a wool winter hat in his other hand.

  “Huh?” I’m confused, but more than anything, I’m thankful for this moment - for any moment with him.

  “Never mind, terrible science joke,” his eyes pierce into mine. They’re like diamonds - cold and clear, brooding, but something in them is kind and gentle, with a hint of wickedness - such an enigma. I’m ready for yet another one of our encounters to take over my dreams tonight.

  “You, uh, look nice,” his hand reaches behind his neck. “Your hair.”

  I blush, only to later find out, when I get to the bathroom, that it’s erratic. I must have looked like Elvira, or even Medusa. He was most likely making fun of my static hair.

  “You’re here early,” he takes a key out of his pocket and fumbles with the lock on a door I’ve never noticed before.

  “Is this some secret lab?” I joke, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

  “Unfortunately, it’s not nearly as cool,” he clicks the door open and turns on the light, moving aside so I can see in. “Just my office.”

  “Right,” I smile.

  He throws his briefcase messenger bag inside before facing me again. I wonder if he’ll invite me in to this little private space of his, and my heart expands, full of hope and the chance at another conversation. His brow creases, like he’s deciding something, and when he sighs heavily, my mood sinks.

  It’s not going to happen.

  “Have a good day, Luci,” he breathes.

  “See you later,” I mumble, discouraged.

  I don’t hear the door shut, and I’m too nervous to look back, so I focus on his classroom at the other end of the hall as I make my way down it. Just as I’m about to turn the corner, I hear him call my name.

  He’s lightly jogging towards me and I blink, because he can’t be real.

  People are starting to fill the halls, and when I meet his gaze something passes between us, a silent note, and for a split second I recognize the exact look.

  It’s the same intoxicating thrill that I regard him with.

  “Um,” he exhales loudly, going through yet another deliberation with himself. “Make sure you know the properties of hydrogen for today’s daily quiz.”

  My reply is a mix between a breathy laugh and an okay. I really don’t think that’s what he was going to say, and the thought of that alone makes my entire body buzz.

  There are these two girls in my gym class who constantly talk about this one boy band in a hauntingly obsessive way. I recognize one of the girls; I think her name is Jess. She’s known for her crazy wild parties.

  Today, I’m walking behind them as we circle the gym. They’re going on about how they plan on skipping school in a few weeks to see the lead singer in some Broadway show. They make it sound like he’ll actually fall in love with them.

  Normally, I’d laugh at their nonsense, but for the first time ever, I understand it.

  The need.

  The desire.

  I’m jealous they have each other to talk about their obsession with, since I can’t talk to anyone about mine.

  English with Ms. Harrington is once again a complete breeze. She never calls on me, and I’m sure that’s because she knows I know the answer. I don’t think I’ve gotten less than an A on anything, and everyone in the class is constantly asking me how I do it, like it’s hard to actually pay attention and know the right responses. I eagerly await my chance to sit at my desk in the very back and think about her brother.

  How twisted is that?

  I wonder if they’re close. If they get together on weekends, or what it was like for them growing up?

  I’m dying to know.

  I want to learn everything about him.

  Do they have any other siblings? Do they ever discuss school?

  Does he ever talk about me?

  Ashley is the first person to notice my makeup when I return to the lunchroom from
the bathroom.

  “Oh. My. Gosh. Luci, look at you!” She says this so loudly that I want to punch her. Yes, I may have put on tiny bit of blush, as well as a small dab of mascara. I guess it makes a big difference on someone who never wears anything. My hair is still down, and I get it. I look different. I understand. I was clearly some monster before this and have made some huge transformation. This is exactly why I didn’t put on the makeup until now. At least I’ll have all of study hall to get used to it, as well as everyone’s reactions, before chemistry.

  Unfortunately, when Ashley talks, everyone at our table looks her way, and then at me - guys and girls - the former shouting out catcalls and the later gushing on how ‘it’s about time.’

  Despite them all now yelling apologies, I get up and convince the lady who sits outside the cafeteria, monitoring those who go in and out, to give me a pass to my locker.

  I didn’t expect to run into Mr. Harrington as I pass the main office. My heart does that stupid racing thing and I actually keep on walking, deciding I don’t want him to see me with makeup on after all. In fact, it was stupid of me to do this, to think I could impress him this way. I have to wash it off, and I quickly look down, trying to pass by him unnoticed.

  “Hey, Luci,” he calls.

  I cringe and stop walking. I don’t look his way as I wait for him to catch up with me, and once I feel the heat of his body radiating off him and onto me, I continue my path.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, still staring at the floor, annoyed. I don’t mean to come across so rude, but I really don’t want him to see me like this.

  He laughs in response, even though I wasn’t trying to be funny.

  It does crazy things to my insides.

  “I think I’m supposed to be asking you that,” he chuckles softly. “Like if you have a pass or something?”

  “Oh,” I fumble in my pocket, trying to find where I stuffed it.

  “I don’t need to see it,” he grabs my arm, the contact catching me off guard. I look at his hand on me, his gentle hold, and he lets go.

  I stop when we reach my locker, and so does he. It’s a weird moment, where he’s just staring, but I can’t complain because I do the same thing all the damn time.

  “Um, don’t you have class?” I break the silence, embarrassed because he sees the makeup.

  “It’s my lunch period,” he sounds far away, and I watch as he examines me. Now I really feel like the mascara is clumped on. My rosy pink cheeks have probably only intensified to an obnoxious deep color, thanks to him being next to me.

  I bite my bottom lip out of nerves, releasing once his eyes peer at it, his stare slowly moving from my eyes to my cheeks before returning to my lips for a second time.

  “I’m glad you left them as is,” he whispers.

  I take this as his way of saying I really shouldn’t try so hard, which is essentially what I was doing.

  So foolish!

  “It’s…” I pause, trying to think of what to say. “It’s… it’s stupid, silly, really.” He smiles and I attempt to mask my humiliation by opening my locker. “I was just trying this… experiment,” I add, rolling my eyes.

  “Oh, no, Luci,” his brow line creases and a frown forms on the sides of his mouth. “I didn’t mean anything like that… You’re…I think you’re…”

  For a brief moment I think I recognize his struggle, and it takes me aback. I want to tell him, hey I get it, either before or after the extraordinary sex we’re destined to have, but his next statement completely bursts my bubble.

  “You’re great just the way you are.”

  And there we have it.

  Gee, thanks Mr.

  I run my fingers through my hair, brushing the long brown strands away from my face. I slam my locker door shut and start walking away. I mine as well get to study hall early. I pause before reaching the stairs and look back at him. He’s just standing there, in the exact same place, with his face in his hands.

  I try to console myself as I wait for the bell to ring. What did I expect him to say? Hey you look hot, Luci? Love the new look, Luci? We clearly have this weird, unexplainable connection, let’s see where it takes us?

  He’s my teacher.

  I’m his student.

  I take back my earlier statement - I clearly am delusional.

  I decide to leave the makeup on after all. I don’t need him to tell me I’m great just the way I am.

  Whatever that hell means.

  Screw that and screw him!

  I couldn’t even tell you what happened in chemistry. I was so focused on my notebook the entire time that when the bell rings, I’m caught by surprise. Still, I’m the first one out the door.

  I walk into public speaking earlier than usual, but the room is already full. Everyone loves the class and all are eager to get here.

  “Nick!” I call as I take my seat behind him. He turns around and I watch his eyes widen at my new look. “Hannah and I are going to the movies next weekend. If you want to come, we can all go.”

  “Yes!” He shouts, practically bouncing off his chair.

  “It’s not a date,” I confirm. “Hannah is coming too,” I remind him, just as Hannah enters the room. She waves to us and we both smile.

  “It is,” he answers, still looking Hannah’s way.

  “It’s not,” my face falls flat and even. “It’s really not.”

  “You look pretty with makeup on,” he changes the subject, really looking at me now.

  I actually smile, relieved that at least one person can have a normal, nice reaction to me.

  I stay after school for math, since I totally failed the last test. Luckily, anyone is allowed to make it up, as long as we go through it in its entirety with Mrs. Stalling. There are twelve other people here, and that’s just today.

  I’m clearly not the only one who doesn’t get this shit.

  When 3:10 hits, I’m practically skipping out the door. I stop short in surprise, for as soon as I turn the corner to head back upstairs, I run into Mr. Harrington and Mr. Chevy. They’re standing in the middle of the hallway talking, with the entire boys track team lining the walls along the floor.

  A few of the boys catch me skipping and laugh, and Mr. Harrington looks my way upon hearing the noise, pausing mid-conversation.

  “Luci,” his smile is guarded. I give him a brief nod as I re-hoist my backpack over my shoulder and continue walking. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  The entire boys track team “ohhh’s” and “ahhhh’s” until Mr. Chevy’s burley voice quiets them. I give Mr. Harrington a look of approval as I continue past him and up the stairs.

  Normally, I would go straight and to the left, towards the main entrance, but he caches me wavering and clears his throat.

  “To the right,” he orders as I reach the top step.

  I do as I’m told, not stopping until I reach his classroom.

  The hallway is empty and quiet, and half the lights are already out. He walks past me and opens the door. I catch a whiff of his spicy cologne as he flips the light switch, swearing to myself I’ll go to the mall this weekend just so I can figure out exactly which one it is.

  “Come in,” he stops just before the platform to his desk.

  “I should get home,” I confess, leaning against the doorframe.

  I hear footsteps behind me and peek around the door. It’s the girl who boldly touched his arm that time. She approaches, popping her head into the room.

  “I thought you couldn’t stay after school today,” she smiles at him.

  “I couldn’t, Madison,” he states plainly. “I have track practice.”

  My heart swells over how differently he regards her than he does me.

  “Luci just had a quick question and she normally can’t stay after,” he explains.

  I offer the girl a small wave upon hearing my name, but her snobbish glare leaves me feeling unwelcomed.

  “Oh,” her remark is short and crisp. “Well, I’ll see you in
the morning then!” She flashes him a big smile before tossing her hair over her shoulder in some sort of grand exit.

  “I should get going too,” I’m a little discouraged after seeing this girl, who clearly stays after school with him on a regular basis.

  “Wait,” he holds up his hand and reaches forward to nothing. “You didn’t do well on your quiz today.” He lets out a small laugh before running his fingers through his hair. I want to desperately do that - run my fingers through his hair, down his neck, to his back, feeling him all over. “In fact, you did terrible,” his voice brings me back down to earth. “Even after I gave you a hint.”

  “Yeah, bad day I guess,” I shrug.

  “Yeah,” he agrees and my fists automatically ball. I’m either so mad I want to punch him or I’m desperately trying not to reach out and touch him. Probably a little of both.

  The way his face suddenly falls instantly saddens me.

  “Or maybe I’m just trying to do terribly on purpose, so I can stay after school and get help too,” I joke, my absurdly jealous jab at that Madison girl.

  He laughs, breaking into one of the biggest grins I’ve ever seen.

  “You’re trouble,” he shakes his head and we stand in an awkward silence for what feels like forever.

  “Well,” I sigh. “I guess I should go.”

  “Okay,” he swallows. I start to turn around to leave when I notice his hand shooting up again. “Wait,” he stops me. “I feel like what I said earlier came across a little strange,” his eyes turn fierce and extraordinary. “When I said you’re great the way you are,” his voice trails off and he closes his eyes and scrunches his face, like he’s struggling. “What I meant to say is… that I think you’re really beautiful.”

  My mouth falls open and my heartbeat quickens. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my wrists and neck, so much so that I think I may combust.

  “And I mean that in the most appropriate way possible,” he laughs, opening his eyes again. They radiate a blue, like the color of the most perfectly clear sky. “But maybe I should just stop talking to you before you turn me in or something.”