Rewriting History (3 page)

“Can I help you?” I ask, reaching for the files I’d forgotten and sliding them into my briefcase.

He smiles and shakes his head, staring out the window. “You know, I always thought this office had the best view in the whole school. Rolling fields, trees…you see everything from here.”

I stiffen and glower at him. I glance out in the direction he is staring and panic rises inside me. She’s still sitting there, on the grass behind the gardening sheds, her head tilted back as the afternoon sun sets on her beautiful face.

Oh, fuck.

“You still want to tell me there’s nothing going on with you two?”

“Why do you care?” I explode. “It’s not like I’m doing anything you haven’t done before. Why the fuck are you so insistent on trying to run my life for me?”

“I just know better than anyone that some things aren’t worth losing everything for,” he replies. He frowns as he stares at me. Is that disappointment I see in his eyes?

I laugh at the irony, because that’s all he has ever been to me: a disappointment. “Stay out of my life,” I warn him.

“Eli. End this with her today, or I’ll do it for you.”

Chapter Four

Eli

“I have a new rule,” I mumble, trying to pull away from her kisses.

She laughs and pulls me toward her. “You and your rules,” she says with a grin. “Don’t you know by now that you can’t tell me what to do?”

I narrow my eyes, but my smile gives me away. “I’m serious, Jill. You have exams in two weeks, and I want to make sure you aren’t distracted.”

She tugs at my shirt, pulling the hem out from my pants, and lifts it over my head. “Are you listening to me?” I laugh.

“Um, you don’t want me distracted?” she guesses, running her hands over my bare chest.

“Right.” I take her wrists and hold them in front of me. Her eyes narrow as I smirk at her. I’m forcing her to focus. “So that means none of this. You need to study.”

She snorts, then her face drops. “You’re serious? Who are you, my father?”

“No, because that would be really creepy,” I retort. “You need to study if you’re going to get your scholarship. I won’t let you mess that up because of me. Besides,” I continue before she can respond, “it’s two more fucking weeks. Then Christmas break and I’m not your teacher anymore.”

“So?” she smirks. “You’ll still be teaching at my school, hotshot. Remember?”

“I know, but I won’t be
your
teacher,” I say. “For me, that makes all the difference.”

It’s Friday night, and we’re at my apartment making the most of being able to show our affection. I know Dad has been watching me, looking for any indication that Jill and I are still seeing each other. We’ve been careful, but it doesn’t change the anxiety I feel every time I’m with her. At least over vacation we have a break from having to watch ourselves every fucking second of the day. One simple stare that lingers too long and we’re over. I have no idea how far Dad would go, or what he’s capable of.

She groans and falls against me. “Fine. But this starts tomorrow. Tonight I just want to eat some takeout and watch crappy movies with you.”

“Deal,” I say, kissing her lips. “Crappy movies, huh? I guess that means you’re choosing again?” I duck away as she hits me.

“Watch it, or I’ll really make you suffer,” she teases, and I know she’s telling the truth.

***

My arms shake as I move the king-size mattress from the bedroom into the living room. She’s sitting on the sofa, laughing at me. I pause my grunting long enough to glower at her, which only makes her laugh harder.

“You could help, you know,” I mutter.

“But you’re doing such an awesome job yourself,” she giggles, covering her mouth.

I had the fucking brilliant idea that we’d watch a movie on my bed, but now I realize how stupid the idea is because I’m going to have to lug the mattress back into the bedroom after she leaves.

Why didn’t I just move the television into the bedroom?

Finally, my mission is complete, and I’m almost ready to pass out from exhaustion. I flop down on the mattress, motioning for her to join me. She crawls into my arms and kisses my lips.

“I’m not known for my bright ideas,” I chuckle.

“Oh, I don’t know, this is pretty awesome.” Her mouth meets mine and we share another kiss that sends my heart rate soaring.

“Here,” I say, throwing her the remote.

Since I’ll probably be watching more of her than the movie, I’ll let her pick from pay-per-view. I’ve already made sure the freezer is well stocked with Ben and Jerry’s triple chocolate, and there is so much candy and popcorn I’m sure I’ll be eating it for the next year.

I deserve the Boyfriend of the Year Award after all this effort.

The word
boyfriend
sends shivers down my spine. Am I even her boyfriend? We haven’t really discussed that officially, but I like the idea that I am. It’s been nine weeks since I walked into that classroom—a far cry from the two or three weeks that I was supposed to be filling in for my father.

Nine and a half weeks since I first kissed those beautiful, sweet lips.

Halfway through
Bridget Jones’s Diary
, I toss a piece of popcorn at her face. Her mouth drops open in shock as she turns to confront me. Her green eyes are wide and I can see she’s weighing up whether or not she should retaliate.

“You did not just throw popcorn at me,” she gasps.

Picking up the pillow to use as a shield, she grabs a handful of popcorn.
Bad move.
Before she has a chance to aim her shot, I lunge so that I’m lying on top of her.

“You throw that and this is not going to end well,” I growl. 

She’s laughing hysterically as she squirms madly underneath me, trying to escape.
She looks so young with her hair all messy like that.
A reminder that this mature girl is only seventeen—eight years younger than me.

“I warned you this wouldn’t end well,” I mumble, tickling her sides.

“If this is what not ending well looks like, then I should misbehave more often,” she replies, out of breath. She gazes up at me with her big eyes, her soft lips begging to be kissed. My head moves toward hers and I peck her several times lightly on the lips, tasting the cherry cola she’s been drinking.

She sighs and brings her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her. Our kisses get deeper and more urgent as our tongues swirl against each other.  I roll off her to the side and take her with me so our bodies are still connected. 

Pushing her hair over her shoulder, my lips meet her neck and I roll my tongue down the curve of her shoulder. I’ve never been big on kissing—I’d rather get to the real part of screwing—but I could kiss her sweet lips all day and it still wouldn’t be enough.

The credits are playing to the last movie. It’s going on midnight and Jill is snoring softly in my lap. Since she’s been studying all day, it’s no surprise that she passed out halfway through the movie. I don’t want to wake her—not only because I love the feel of her asleep in my arms, but I’m sure she has another big day of study tomorrow.

Watching her sleep is enough . . . for now.

And the more she studies, the better results she’ll get and the less opportunity bullies like Jamie will have to expose us.

Chapter Five

Jill

Not seeing Eli outside of the classroom has left me with nothing to do but study. Books are piled in front of me as I sit in the library flicking through them. As much as I hate to admit it, Eli is right: he is a distraction, and my not seeing him for the last week has reaffirmed that. I’ve actually been able to concentrate on my studying. Well, most of the time.

And texting.

I smile as I read his latest message.

Eli: So, just asking for a friend, what do eighteen-year-old girls like these days for their birthdays?

Me: Asking for a friend, huh? Well, I’m no ordinary girl, but I personally find historical books sexy.

Eli: Really? Good to know what turns you on. Do you think I can make you come just by using words like Plato and Aristotle?

I clap my hand over my mouth to smother my laughter. I love that he’s such an idiot.

Me: Is it inappropriate for me to touch myself in the library?

Eli: Well, yes, but don’t let that stop you. I’m sure the dude at the table to your left would be up for the show, judging from the looks he keeps throwing your way.

I glance to my left and catch the eye of some guy. Blushing, I look around and spot Eli standing outside the glass doors of the library, smiling at his phone. His dirty blond hair is disheveled from being outside, and it takes all my resolve not to race out there and kiss him.

Me: You want me to study, so leave me alone. I’ll call you later.

Eli: You’re so cute when you’re concentrating. Call me when you get home. I’ll text dirty to you.

***

“Miss?”

I look up and see the librarian standing in front of my desk. Glancing around, I can see the library is empty. She smiles at me, almost apologetic. “I’m sorry, miss, but the library is closing in five minutes.”

“Okay, thanks.” 

Shit
. It’s almost nine.

How did I lose track of time? Packing up my books, I walk toward the door and notice I’ve got several missed calls and a whole lot of text messages on my phone. One is from Mom to tell me dinner is in the fridge and to text her when I get home, and the rest are from Eli. I click open the latest one, sent five minutes ago.

Eli: Where are you?

I dial his number and he answers on the first ring.

“Where the hell have you been?” he growls, his voice mixed with anger and worry.

“Jesus, relax, would you? I’m leaving the library now,” I reply, surprised by his reaction. Surely it wouldn’t have been that hard to figure out I lost track of the time and was still in the library. He saw me here, didn’t he? “I’m pretty sure it was
you
who told me to focus on my study.”

“That didn’t involve ignoring my desperate texts,” he mutters. “I was worried about you.” 

Walking across the main common area, I’m still on the phone to Eli but I can hear footsteps behind me. At least, I
think
I can hear footsteps behind me
. Probably my mind playing stupid tricks on me.
It’s still dark outside, but there is nobody around. It’s unnerving, actually, to think that no one would hear me if I screamed.

My heartbeat speeds up.
I’m psyching myself out.
I just need to get out of the school and onto the main road and then I’ll be fine.

“Jill, are you listening?”
Shit
. I wasn’t. 

“Sorry, I’ll call you back tonight. I need to catch the bus.” I hang up without waiting for his response, as the footsteps behind me get louder. 

Breaking into a small run, I’m nearly at the gate when I’m pulled back by my backpack. The fear coursing through my body is palpable and my skin is prickling.  Spinning around with force so I can retaliate if necessary, I rear my hand back, ready to punch the intruder and run.

“Freaking hell, you scared me,” I snap, recognizing the librarian. My legs are shaking and I feel on the verge of collapsing. I hold the gate to steady myself.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she says. “I was calling out, but you were on your phone. You left your book on the table.” 

I mumble thanks and take the book, shoving it into my backpack. This is what too many horror movies does to a person.

“Mom,” I yell from the doorway. 

Silence greets me.  Throwing my bag on the floor as I trudge my way to the kitchen, I open the fridge, take out the stir-fry, and throw it in the microwave.

I press five minutes and walk over to the stereo and switch it on, and then ramp up the heating. I’m swaying to Ed Sheeran when Mom comes through the door. There’s something different about her, but I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is. She almost looks too happy, which sounds ridiculous.

I lean against the counter and place my hand on my hip, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“Where have you been, and why are you so happy? Did you work today?” I snort. 

She throws her bag on the counter and turns to me as she slips out of her jacket. “None of your business,” she laughs.

“Oh, c’mon, at least tell me where you went,” I whine. What the hell is she getting up to on her days off? I feel bad hassling her about it because I know how hard it is for her with Dad away so much.

“I went to the movies. Is that okay with you?” she teases.

“Depends on what crap you went to see,” I snicker. “Who’d you go with?”

“A girlfriend from work. What’s with all the questions, Jill? Maybe I need to start giving you the third degree when you come home,” she says, her lips twitching into a smile.

That shuts me up.