Page 8 of Faking It with Mr. Uptight

Heading home, Jake and Hailey were on my mind. I already had mixed feelings about all the gossip directed at Jake but now after hearing Hailey's side of things, I felt obligated to say something. I bit my lip and hummed along to the radio. Whatever I was going to do I needed to do gently. I didn't want to betray Hailey's confidence or stick my nose in where it didn't belong. But I had a feeling I was going to do just that.

Out of habit and because I was lost in thought, I drove out of town toward my cottage. Realizing my error, I pulled a U-ey. About fifteen minutes later, I pulled into Amy’s drive. As I entered her home, I unloaded my bag and kicked off my shoes, already craving the chicken Caesar salad that awaited me. My stomach grumbled at the thought, reminding me that I had not finished my lunch and was now extra hungry.

Feeling more relaxed and at ease, I turned on my speaker and selected an Indie pop-rock playlist on Spotify. The melodies filled the room, striking the perfect chord with my current mood—upbeat yet still retaining a mellow undertone. Music and dancing were always my go-to therapy, and as I swayed my hips around the kitchen, chicken sizzled in the pan while I chopped the lettuce for my salad. I let myself get lost in the music. The song was one of my favorites, from an up-and-coming artist, Jaxson James. I sang along, my voice barely above a whisper. I was an okay singer but nothing spectacular.

Once my food was ready, I took it out the sliding glass door onto the deck. I tucked my legs under me on a cushioned wicker chair. As I happily munched on my salad, Jake's sliding glass door directly across from me opened and he stepped out with a platter and grilling utensils.

I gave him a small wave and a bright smile, trying not to laugh. It was no secret that I needled him. Honestly, I'm not sure exactly where our feud began. It had something to do with the curriculum committee, but I can't pinpoint the exact moment where our mutual dislike took root. Our teaching styles and beliefs about curriculum differed greatly. He was all work and no play, while I was more laid back and wanted the students to feel like learning was not only an adventure but something to be individualized and self-expressed.

It's why I was such a good fit for middle school. I mean, tweenhood is rough, puberty hitting while still half-kid almost young adult. It's a weird time. It can't be all rainbows and butterflies but too much structure and standardization kills creativity. I like to think Jake and I balanced each other out in that way. He keeps me in check, and I keep him from making the school too rigid. I would never tell him that though.

He didn't smile, but he nodded at me, setting down his uncooked food which from where I sat looked like salmon. Was he really making salmon for him and his daughter? Hmm.

I abandoned my nearly empty bowl and padded barefoot over to him where he scoffed. The salmon steak sizzled as they hit the hot grill. He turned to me. "What do you want?"

I held my hands up, "Whoa. Easy, cowboy. I came to talk to you, not pick a fight."

He raised an eyebrow, and a corner of his mouth quirked, the closest I had ever seen him come to smiling.

"So, I've heard the rumors going around school."

The ghost of his smile evaporated. "Great," he muttered.

"No, I'm not here to give you grief about it. Look," I paused, glancing around him into the house to make sure Hailey wasn't listening in. His jaw ticked, and his brow lowered, but I spoke again before he could further question me. "There's something else I need to talk to you about. It’s related and a bit delicate. I don't want Hailey to know I talked to you." I kept my voice low, just in case.

"It's about Hailey?"

A noncommittal sound ushered from my throat as I teetered my head from side to side, feeling out of my depth. "Not exactly. Just come next door once she's in bed, so we can talk about it."

His eyebrow arched up skeptically. I held my breath, expecting him to decline but he grumbled that he would without making eye contact, before he turned back and opened his grill. I exhaled, both relieved and tense, I had no idea what I was going to say, but I had only a few hours to figure it out.

4

JAKE

I ran my fingers through my still wet hair as I crossed the yard to Amy's later that evening. Growing up, Amy's house had belonged to my Aunt Selma and Uncle Roger. They never had children of their own and we spent time running between their house and ours all summer. They had loved having us and our friends parading around, the combined yard was the envy of every kid in the neighborhood.

Thinking about that now made me sad. They had probably longed for children and never had any of their own. But at least they had us. As I climbed the deck, Molly stood on the other side of the sliding door. Her hair was up in a high bun, a few tendrils falling loosely around her face. She smiled in a subdued way, not the over-happy taunting way she often did. I slid the door open and stepped inside.

"I have wine," she said, motioning to the counter.

I didn't usually drink on school nights, but I felt like maybe it wasn't the worst idea.

"Just one glass. It’s a school night." I said, feeling like the square that everyone thought I was. Maybe they were right.

She smiled, a dimple peeking out and she pulled two stemless glasses from a cabinet and poured us each a glass.

"Follow me," she said, leading the way to the living room.

I hesitated, wanting to tell her I knew this house better than she did, but I restrained the urge. She already hated me enough.

She sat on the sofa, and patted the seat next to her, as if inviting a pet or a child.

"Okay, so," she took a sip, "tell me about this dating business."

I shook my head. "I thought this was about Hailey, not gossip from school."

"It's all related," she said, her usual exuberance flattened, making me uneasy.

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