We drag everything into the auditorium, avoiding the tripping hazard of the tarps they’ve put down to protect the floor. As I find a place for the last box, the back door pops open and we both glance up in time to find James Barton coming in, carrying even more supplies.
He’s cute, but he has two strikes against him. He dated my sister once, and now he’s married. He and my sister stayed friends, though, and a few years ago, my sister ended up setting him up with his now wife. Because of them, I have to listen to my sister go on about her matchmaking skills and how she can help me find a date. I might have to punch her in the face soon if she doesn’t stop. Which would be sad—my sister has a cute face, and I have a mean left hook.
“Hey Ren, haven’t seen you in ages,” James says as he gives me a hug. “I haven’t seen you since…shit, Dani’s show a year ago?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” I’ve seen him at my sister’s concerts and a party or two here and there, but we’re not in the same circle of friends. It’s still a little strange to see him all smiles and laughter since he got married. My sister used to call him the brooding artist, but he doesn’t fit that description anymore. “Dani said you were bringing some toys? I have no idea what she’s?—”
The door pops open again and two large boxes with long legs make their way into the room—along with all the staff members that disappeared about ten minutes ago. I’m not sure why, but they’re following the boxes around like they’re made of gold. James jogs over and takes the boxes, leaving me staring at over six feet of delicious, tan, pretty boy. He looks familiar, and when he pushes his sunglasses up to hold his hair back, I forget to breathe. I know exactly who those sparkly blue eyes belong to.
I may have pictured that man on lonely, late nights before, too. With much less clothing on.
“Hey Coop, come help me with this,” James calls out.
Chase fucking Cooper is standing fifteen feet away from me in my school’s auditorium. They must be getting ready to film another action movie, or every department store in Los Angeles is required to sell him shirts a size too small.Beefyis the word I heard one of the younger teachers calling him the other day while they were reading the gossip magazines. It’s appropriate, and I can’t help but imagine what that man would look like on his knees for me.
“Ren, you’re staring,” Marta teases as she walks by.
“I mean, he’s cute for a white boy but?—”
“You’re a little too close to drooling on my floor, Ms. Silva,” says a voice from behind me.
I force my head to turn away, letting the thoughts of running my fingers through that thick, long, caramel hair go up in smoke. Of course, the damn principal, Eric Miley, would catch me staring. I twist my lips into what I hope is a smile.
“Oh, Mr. Miley. I wasn’t aware you would be here tonight.”
Slimy little shit. Three years in a row, I’ve had one of the highest ratings of any teacher in the school. Three years in a row, this small dick asshole has denied me a raise. ‘We don’t have it in the budget’ is his fallback excuse every time. His story would change if I slept with him, but that’s never happening.
“Yes, well, when I heard we had a special guest, well, I thought it would be wise to have a few more male staff members like myself to make sure you ladies behave.”
It’s not laced with misogyny, it’s fucking saturated in it. He’s the poster idiot for why women don’t give out their real names on dating apps and pick being alone in a room with a bear over a man. He doesn’t know that I’ve got him on camera in my computer room after hours on one of those pay for play sites. Fucker was even trying to see if staff members were on the site, myself included. As if we’d be dumb enough to use our real names, anyhow. Someday, I’ll remind him why you doNOTfuck with women in STEAM. Not only are we used to it, but we get our revenge on the worst offenders, like him.
“Ren.” James appears next to me, which keeps me from saying something I’d likely regret. “Hey, about the toys. It’s the bobbleheads Chase brought for the kids. He made sure there were enough for the students that can’t come tonight and Dani told us you’d have a place to lock them up for the night?”
“Yeah, sure. Just uh, have him put the box on the end of the bleachers and I’ll make sure it’s stored in my classroom. My room has locks and security cameras because of the equipment.” I would normally have watched Miley to see if he reacted to the security camera comment, but I’m having trouble concentrating. My eyes keep looking a few feet behind James, where Chase is talking with the kids. He’s distracting. Distractingly pretty.
“Great, will do. Thanks for helping out tonight. Oh, Lex wanted me to invite you over for game night. We got the living room redone, finally, so there’s more room for everyone.” Lex, or Alexis, is Jamie’s wife. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, even though life has put her through the wringer more than a few times. I met her at a company party for the guy my sister works for a few years before I met James. “Oh, uh, have you met Chase yet?”
Before I can answer, there’s a loud crash in the back of the auditorium and two guilty looking students stare at a stack of chairs that’s fallen. “Angel Rodriguez and Steven Wilson, what are you doing? Were you climbing the damn chairs like mountain goats again?”
I excuse myself and go take care of the boys, helping them get the chairs pulled out and set up while ensuring they’re not messing around anymore. It doesn’t take us long, but it’s long enough for me to get my mind off the movie star in the room. As we wrap that up, a teacher’s aide comes over and pulls me outside to help with another situation that she can’t seem to describe in a way that makes sense to me.
“It’s…There are… people here. Lots of people!”
“What do you mean, ‘people’? The school is closed.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they’re parents, Ms. Silva,” Jessica mumbles.
“Where the hell is Miley?” I ask, looking around. Jessica shrugs and looks more worried. “Okay, let’s go figure out what’s going on.”
We turn the corner and I’m blinded by the flashbulbs going off like lightning. People are shouting and trying to open the lock on the gate to the teacher’s parking area. Why would anyone want to take pictures of a couple of teachers through a fence?
“Miss! Miss! Can you let us in? We want to get some pictures of Chase!”
“Come on, I’ll give you two hundred cash right now. Just open the gate.”
“I’ll give you five hundred!”
I take a slow, deep breath to center myself before I go off on these fucking lunatics. If they think yelling at me like that is going to have any effect at all, it only shows they haven’t met many teachers.
