A Proscriptive Relationship (25 page)

“Well sorry for wanting to defend myself!” I responded, clenching my fist.  “While you were enjoying your stupid date, I could have been injured or killed. Do you really think I’d just let him do whatever he wanted with me?”

Mr. Heywood ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry, Holly.”

I crossed my arms. “It’s okay.”

“You just don’t understand how serious this is.”

“Then tell me!”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” I demanded. “It’s all secrets with you, all the time! Don’t you even trust me a little?”

He gazed at me for a moment, before turning to the fridge. “Sit. I’m going to get dinner started, Holly.”

I went over to the chair and slumped to the table, admitting defeat. It was useless to try to argue with him anyway. So I watched him as he rummaged through my kitchen instead. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from him. His unruly brown hair, his sturdy build, nor his beautiful gray eyes whenever he’d take a quick look at me. Even though I felt a little embarrassed at being caught staring.

I pressed my forehead against the tabletop. Why hadn’t he answered me when I asked if he trusted me a little bit? Did that mean he didn’t? Did I give him any reason not to? He had to consider us friends, at the very least.

Why did I have to fall for such a confusing guy? Not only that, but he was almost five years older than me, and he was my teacher. Hell, my mom probably had a better chance with him than I did. The thought almost made me laugh. My mom was young, but not
that
young. And it didn’t matter anyway. Mr. Heywood had a girlfriend now. Or at least, he was dating someone.

“Here.”

A steaming mug of hot chocolate was placed in front of me. I pulled it closer and peered into it. “Thanks.”  

“It’s my special make,” Mr. Heywood told me. “And I don’t make this for just anyone. So you had better like it.”

I took a sip, surprised when I didn’t burn my tongue, but even more surprised with the taste. “What’s in here? It’s really good!”

He grinned. “Secret.”

Before I could reply, he turned and walked back to the stove. I frowned for a moment, before returning my attention to the hot chocolate he had made me. I took another sip, savoring the taste.

By the time I finished the hot chocolate Mr. Heywood had finished dinner. My mom entered the kitchen just in time. “Something smells wonderful,” she said, taking a seat next to me at the table, looking very pleased

“Here you go,” Mr. Heywood said, placing a plate full of food in front of her.

“Thank you,” she responded.

He nodded and placed another plate in front of me. I said my thanks and watched as he sat down across the table from me. My mom was the first to take a bite. She moaned her approval. I ducked my head, embarrassed by her reaction.

“If you were twenty years older, I would marry you,” she said, eyeing him closely.

“If only,” he responded with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes, cutting off a piece of steak and putting it in my mouth. Like everything else he cooked, it was perfect.

“You can marry Holly instead.”

I choked a bit. My mom looked at me with a worried expression. I coughed, trying to breathe.

“Mom!” I started, eyes watering. “Don’t say those things. He’s my teacher.”

“Only for a year longer,” she responded, wagging her eyebrows.

I looked down at my plate, too embarrassed to look at Mr. Heywood. I had to remember never to let them near each other again. Ever.

After laughing at her own comment, my mom changed the subject and she and Mr. Heywood got into an animated chat as I silently ate my dinner, fixing my eyes on my plate. When I finished, I reluctantly looked up, only to see that they both had finished already.

My mom yawned and stood up. “Let’s clear up. I want to go to bed soon.”

I stood up with her. “I’ll take care of it, you can head up to bed now if you want.”

“You sure?”

I nodded, shooing her with my hand. “It’s fine. Go rest.”

She nodded and turned to Mr. Heywood. “Well, thanks for coming to dinner . . . and making it.”

“No problem. Thank you for having me over and sorry for running into you,” he responded politely.

“Don’t worry about it! Let’s do this again sometime.”

I stared at her in horror. Something like this should never ever happen again!

“Of course,” Mr. Heywood said, contrary to my thoughts.

I sighed, watching as my mom bid us one last goodbye before going to her room. I started picking up the plates and a hand snatched them away from me. Mr. Heywood carried them to the sink and turned on the water.

“I can do it,” I protested, following him.

“Shut up and let me do it.”

I scowled slightly, but let it go. If he wanted to help me out, I wasn’t going to stop him. It was rare and I should enjoy it while I could.

Silence settled as he washed the dishes. Suddenly feeling exhausted, I rested my chin on my hands and watched him. There weren’t a lot, so he finished quickly. When he finally caught me staring at him, I looked away. “Sorry about my mom. She’s—”

“Amusing,” he finished for me, drying off his hands. “Nothing to apologize about.”

I smiled. “Right.”

“But, I’m going to head home now,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll see you Monday.”

I felt faintly disappointed as I remembered he wasn’t going on the beach trip. “Yeah, okay,” I said, following him to the door.

He opened it and turned back to me before exiting. “Goodnight, Holly.”

“Night, Mr. Heywood.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Chris,” I corrected myself, feeling a blush coming up again, but I fought it back. “Goodnight, Chris.”

He smirked, stepping out the door. I sighed in relief, and went to close it, but it suddenly flew back open, smacking me in the face.

“
Ow
!” I cried.

“Sorry,” Mr. Heywood apologized, sounding more entertained than apologetic. “But I forgot to give you this.” He offered my cell phone out to me. “It’s a Friday, and you’re going out tomorrow, so I wanted to return it. That’s it. Goodbye.”

“Thank you,” I called before the door shut.

I grinned, looking at the phone in my hand. He could be unexpectedly nice. I flipped open my phone to check my text messages, but froze as I noticed my new background.

Instead of the image of Lance and me as my wallpaper, a picture of Mr. Heywood making a silly face replaced it. I couldn’t help but giggle at it.

And I wasn’t going to change it back, either.

LESSON SEVENTEEN

“
Holly, let’s go swimming!”

I looked up at Casey as she hovered over me, her hands on her hips. I raised an eyebrow. “Swimming? It’s like seventy-five degrees out.”

“We’ve been here for four hours, and all you’ve done is sit there and be depressed,” she accused. “Man up and come swimming with me!”

“I haven’t been depressed,” I said, frowning. “What is there to be depressed about?”

“Hmm, let me think,” she started, putting a finger to her chin. “Could it be that Mr. Heywood isn’t here?”

“What? No! I . . . it isn’t that,” I stuttered, feeling my face heat up.

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t see why you don’t just tell him you like him.”

“Shh! Lower your voice!”

“
Sorry,” she whispered. “But if you like him, I think you should just tell him.”

“
I can’t!” I cried, my eyes widening. “Casey, you don’t understand the situation.”

“What’s the situation?”

“Oh, I don’t know . . . he’s a teacher and I’m a student?”

“And?”

“That’s illegal, Casey.”

She waved her hand at me. “You’re a senior. It shouldn’t matter.”

“He doesn’t even like me,” I continued, digging a hole in the sand with my bare foot and burying it in it.

Casey heaved a sigh, shaking her head. “You don’t know that.”

“He’s got a girlfriend.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Did he tell you that?”

“Well, not in those words exactly,” I responded, biting my lip. “But lately he’s been going on dates.”

“
Holly, it sounds to me like your making up excuses not to like him.”

I gaped at Casey, unable to think of a reply. She frowned at me, crossing her arms. Was I making up excused not to like him? No, that wasn’t it. I was just being rational. Yeah!

“I’m just being rational,” I explained, furrowing my eyebrows. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“Well, even if he doesn’t like you, there’s something special about you to him,” she pressed. “Why else would he keep making you stay after school?”

“Because he’s a blackmailing devil,” I muttered.

Casey sighed lightly. “Holly. C’mon.”

I glanced up at her, shaking my head. “Casey, let’s forget about it. It’s wrong, and impossible, and I just don’t want to think about it anymore, okay?”

“Fine, you keep on making up excuses,” she responded, her face serious, “but when he stops chasing after you, and you lose any chance you have with him, don’t come crying to me. You need to stop thinking of wrong and right, Holly, because when it comes to love there’s no such thing. When you love someone, nothing should be able to come between the two of you. You’re just going to be hurting yourself thinking along the lines as ‘he can’t like me, it’s impossible’. Nothing is impossible. Have more confidence in yourself.”

And with that, she turned and started walking away from me. I watched her walk away. As her words sunk in to my mind, I knew she was right. I groaned, putting my head in my hands. I was making up excuses. But it wasn’t that I didn’t like Mr. Heywood—no, I knew I liked him, could even love him. What was there not to love? His  beautiful gray eyes that seemed to pierce right into my soul? His messy hair that could either make him look boyishly cute or like a handsome young man? Sure, he had a split personality, but it was sort of a charm point.

Sort of.
 

I groaned again. But there was something else that kept me from really accepting my feelings, something I didn’t want to admit to myself.

I didn’t know
anything
about Mr. Heywood.

What I liked were his looks, his actions, and his personality. But I didn’t know a single thing about his past, besides that he was a gang leader, and he had done something that had the gang wanting him dead. And I didn’t know what
that
was. If it was something really bad, would that change my view of him?

I rubbed my forehead, trying to clear my thoughts. For now, I couldn’t let him know of my feelings. I didn’t want him to think they weren’t real. That I was just like all the other girls at school. For now, I’d deal with my unrequited love, even if it hurt. I could deal with it.

Standing up, I decided to busy myself. Looking around, I noticed a few groups playing with a beach ball and having a game of badminton. It was kind of funny scene. Although we were on the beach, everyone was in jeans and T-shirts. I wondered yet again whose idea it was to go to the beach in October.

“
Casey, I’m going to go to the rock pier,” I called down to where she was standing, watching her boyfriend.

She turned to me immediately.  “Oh! Can I come?”

“
Sure, not Willis though.”

We both glanced at Willis, who was roughhousing by the water with some boys from our class. Casey looked over at him and smiled for a second, then turned back to me, shrugging. “He won’t even notice I’m gone.”

I chuckled, pushing my hair behind my ear. “Fine, let’s go.”

Together we started down the beach, walking along the thin wash of broken waves, careful not to step into the water. It took longer than I thought. I must have misjudged the distance. The closer we got, however, the larger the rocks appeared. Casey sped up slightly.

“
Look at that!” she cried, her eyes wide. “It’s like a fort! Hurry, Holly!”

“
Casey, we still have a way to walk—argh!” I cried out as she suddenly grabbed my wrist and started sprinting. “Casey!”

“
C’mon, c’mon!”

I scowled slightly, but didn’t dare to stop running. Knowing me, I’d probably end up tripping over my feet and falling face first into the water. When we finally reached the rocks, we were both panting, and holding stitches in our sides. I leaned against one of the boulders trying to catch my breath. Casey regained her breath easily and started climbing one. After a moment I followed in pursuit.

The top of the rock was flat and stable to stand on. Casey hopped to the next one, which had a two-foot crevice between it and the one I was on. I stepped over the gap cautiously, looking down to see a black hole.

“
Casey!” I cried as she jumped from the second rock and into a crevice.

“
Follow me,” she called back.

I peeked over the crevice to see her at the bottom looking up at me. I nervously lowered myself down, dropping onto the sand. Casey started walking down the fissure and I followed, running my hand against the wet rock walls.

“
This is so cool,” she commented, following as it curved into a small section of the beach.

I grinned at her. “Well, aren’t you the explorer?”

She smirked smugly. I had to admit, though, the area was pretty cool. The large black rocks even went about ten feet out into the ocean, sectioning of the area. It was totally enclosed. Someone’s own private little beach.

“
Check this out,” Casey said, moving across the sand to a small tunnel in the rock.

“
Should we go in there?”

I shook my head. “There’s probably only trash and stuff. Let’s go climb the rock pier before it’s time to eat.”

Casey stared longingly at the small cave before sighing. “Yeah.”

We made our way out of the little private area, and with some effort, pulled ourselves out of the crevice and onto the flat rocks that led to the pier. I wanted to make it out to the last rock.