Page 17 of Love Me Not

“I’m fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. My heart was racing, my right ankle hurt from the sudden stop, and my pride was thoroughly bruised. “We seriously have to stop meeting like this.”

His deep chuckle filled the silent hall. “We just need better timing. How’s your year going so far? Outside of us running each other over, of course.”

“Well enough, considering we’re less than three weeks in.” Since he was being polite, I felt obligated to do the same. “How about you? Are you settling in?”

He nodded and slid his hands into his back pockets, which pulled his light pink button-down tight across his chest. Georgie’s comment about six-pack abs popped to mind and I willed myself to keep my eyes on his face.

“It’s going pretty good actually. The team is undefeated, and the kids are great. Plus the other teachers have made me feel really welcome.”

The other teachers. As in other than me.

“Speaking of the team, shouldn’t you be at practice? Don’t let me hold you up.”

“No practice today. I promised the guys if they won this past weekend that I’d give them a day off.” He pressed a shoulder against the wall. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

I went with the obvious. “I don’t know you.”

Eyes narrowed, he said, “Not exactly a denial.”

A fair point. “I’m not a sports fan, that’s all. It’s nothing personal.”

“Feels personal. You don’t have to like football to like me.”

Liking him was not the opposite of not liking him. Which sounded counterintuitive for an English teacher but was very much a true statement.

“Do you need everyone to like you?” I asked.

“Don’t you?” he said, straightening to his full height.

What an absurd question. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” I repeated.

“You don’t want people to like you?” The man looked completely perplexed.

“That’s not what I said. You asked if I need them to like me, which I do not. If you need people to like you, then you have some insecurities to explore.” Stepping around him, I said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my drama club.”

Falling into step beside me, as if the last thirty seconds never happened and I hadn’t just suggested that he had serious self-esteem issues, the coach said, “Isn’t your classroom the other way?”

Not that it was any of his business, but… “I’m getting markers from the art department.”

“What do you need markers for?”

Picking up my pace, I cast him an annoyed glance. “You’re very nosy.”

“I’m curious, not nosy,” he defended.

“What’s the difference?”

“I asked an inquisitive question, which you can choose to answer or not answer. If you refuse to answer and I continue to pry, then I’m being nosy.”

Touché, Mr. Master’s Degree.

My gut told me the fastest way to end this encounter was to answer his question. “I need markers so we can make recruitment posters for the drama club.”

Now, curiosity appeased, he had no reason not to go away.

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