Two weeks.
I hadn’t seen him in two weeks.
I thought I missed him before, but nothing compared to when he’d disappeared. We’d had a sub for some classes and mostly emails and notes for the others he missed. I tried to subtly asked Donna where he was, but she’d simply said vacation. I wanted to demand where and why. Instead, I gave a simple nod and walked away.
I could have messaged him, and I must have typed up at least a thousand texts, but never sent them. I was sure he was okay. He had too many people caring about him to not be okay.
But tonight, all my concerns would be answered. I’d be able to see for myself if he was okay. It was the night he was going to help me with the telescope for the class project. I’d begun looking up other plans because I didn’t know if Callum would be back or if he’d even want to assist me anymore. Maybe he’d pawn me off to another teacher.
Then the email arrived yesterday morning as a reminder to be at the park by eight at night to do the final portion of the class project. I checked the schedule at the same time, and my heart sank at seeing another student had signed up for the night. The possibilities had fluttered across my skin when I’d thought it would just be him and me. But, nope, Joey would be there too. Stupid Joey.
Getting off the bus, I walked the last few feet to the park. I pushed the code into the gate and closed it behind me. The park closed at dusk, so we’d be the only ones around. Oh, and Joey.
Standing inside the entrance, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to see him. Preparing myself to act natural and not fall at his feet, explaining the last two weeks and beg him to take me back. I had so much to say. So much I wanted to tell him—had planned on telling him before he disappeared on me.
Deep breaths.
I walked around the bathrooms and saw a figure atop the hill and headed toward it. Maybe I was the first one there.
He was bent over a box, his broad back stretching his jacket tight, and I yearned to reach out and run my hands across it. Fuck, I missed him.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He stood and turned, facing me, taking me in. “Hey.”
One cheek ticked up, almost hidden behind thick scruff bordering on a beard.1It looked good on him. While he scanned me, I did the same in return, and I could tell he was nervous, but at the same time not. His shoulders seemed less tense, his eyes holding less back.
He seemed better than I’d ever seen him before.
It hurt to see him doing so well, but I swallowed it back and forced a smile. “Should we get started or wait for Joey?”
“Joey couldn’t make it. Canceled last minute.”2
“Oh.” We were alone, with no interruptions, for the first time in a month. My stomach fluttered with excitement, but also churned with nerves. Was I the only one nervous? He seemed so calm, so relaxed, if not a little fidgety. “Okay.”
“Come here, let’s find us a star,” he said, his eyes light and smiling.
My body trembled with each step closer to him.
“You’re going to look through here and adjust the focus here.” He continued to point at the different parts of the telescope, explaining what each did. I tried to listen, but I was so aware of the way his long fingers worked the knobs. I was too aware of the way he looked at me, the way it burned across my skin. Was I making it up? Was I really feeling it?
His hand reached around me to a knob, almost making me choke on my tongue when his heat seeped through my shirt, burning my skin. He stayed close for longer than was necessary, letting his fingers linger, and I had to fight from leaning back into him. My body trembled when I imagined how it would feel to have his hard muscles pressed against me again. But then he backed away, and I expelled the breath I hadn’t known I was holding before leaning down to look at my star.
It looked simple; just a tinge of blue.
“You seem unimpressed,” he laughed, the sound rippling down my spine.
“I thought it would be more like all those shows or the pictures in our books. More colorful.”
“The pictures you see in books usually have a different lens applied to the photo, detecting different electromagnetic radiation. Most common is infrared.” He said some other big words, his hands moving around animatedly, but I didn’t understand many of them.
I tried to keep a serious face, like I actually followed what he was saying, but in the end, I laughed. Watching him talk about astronomy was beautiful. He had so much love for the topic, and I loved seeing him so excited.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“You’re letting your nerd-side show.”
“It’s sexy, isn’t it?” he said, half-joking. Crickets chirped in the silence that followed. A cord pulled tight between us, feeling ready to snap, on the verge of something breaking. I couldn’t tell if it was for the good or bad.
