Page 91 of Teacher of the Year

Olan takes his left hand and cradles my chin, turning me slightly toward him.

“Marvin, look at me. Clearly, something upset you. Please. Tell me.”

My stomach tightens as his thumb glides up and down my jawline. I thought I was past this, but, um, hello, not there yet. Olan’s worked so hard and come so far. Making him feel guilty about his history feels like the ultimate asshole move. Yet here I am. The King of Assholes. Pressure overwhelms me, and I feel the slightest bit of vomit crawl up my throat. As I glance up at Olan once again, the urge to flee bubbles up. I have to say something.

“Okay. Um, well, we were talking. She’s supportive. Of you. Even me. She thanked me. Actually, thanked me. She said she’s never seen you happier.”

Olan leans in, his sweet breath on my face. “She’s right.”

“We talked about AA and how I can be supportive. She told me how far you’ve come. What a different man you are. Part of that was sharing how hard it was for her when you were in college. How scary it was, and it, it just stirred up stuff for me. My head started spinning. About my mom. I’m sorry,” I blurt.

“Buddy, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry. I wish she hadn’t talked about that with you.”

“I think she was trying to connect with me. Boost you up in my mind. It wasn’t her. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“No. You’re not. Look at me. Listen to me. You are not the problem. I should have told her to avoid the topic. That’s on me.”

“The thing is, she was explaining part of your past. And maybe I needed to hear it, even though I know that’s not who you are now. It impacts me because of my own stuff. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”

“Listen, I need you to hear this.” His hand moves to the back of my neck, holding me in place and sending the tiny hairs on my nape up. “My feelings for you aren’t a joke. This isn’t a fling. I really care about you. A lot. I love being with you, but Marvin… I can’t change my past, and if you can’t accept that, well, it stings, but…”

“Olan, wait. I’m trying. Really. My feelings for you… I’ve never felt this way. You make me feel like I can be myself, even the prickly parts, but maybe, even with all that, even though it’s not who you are now, maybe because of me, it’s… I don’t know.”

Olan’s jaw clenches. His hand still rests on the small of my back, but the time for him to comfort me has passed. He lets out a short sigh, his hand tensing on my back.

“Marvin, that’s bullshit. I am doing the work. I’m truly trying here, but I am not perfect. And guess what? You’re not perfect, either. You’re a brilliant teacher. What you’ve done for Illona, I can’t even put into words, but you, you…”

“What? I what?”

“You care. You care so much,” he says, shaking his head. “Sometimes, I think you care too much.”

“How is that possible?” I say, my eyes stinging with tears.

“Because you give your job everything and, I mean, I’ve been there. I was there not that long ago, and I just worry. I know how that impacted my relationship with Isabella.”

“Oh.”

“Between how devoted you are to teaching and this damn award. I’m not trying to sweep your side of the street, but Marvin, have you ever considered you throw yourself into your job to avoid dealing with, with, things?”

The moment he says it, the truth in his words burns my ears and the fire consumes me. I’m too ashamed by what he’s uncovered to reply.

“And how you react any time my recovery comes up. I, I can’t change who I was. I mean, if my recovery triggers you in such a way you literally flee every time it comes up, I don’t know, maybe this, maybe me, maybe I’m too much.”

My mouth parts, and I glide my finger over my bottom lip. Olan’s words catch me off guard. Maybe this is too much. Maybe he’s too much. Maybe allowing my heart to believe someone else could be there for me was a mistake. My entire body feels dense, and I struggle to find the right words. For once in my life, I don’t rush to speak. Instead, I take his hand in mine and hold it open. With my other hand, I draw small circles in his palm. A dog barks in the distance. My heart beats even faster. I inhale through my nose and out my mouth, blowing my breath into the salty night air.

“Maybe we should take some time.” My voice quivers. Five days apart this week made me realize how much I care for Olan, and my feelings for him keep growing. Jill asked if I loved him. I think the seeds of love are there, and now this hesitation, this pause… I swallow the despair in my throat. Why am I like this?

Olan looks at me and takes his hand from mine, covering his face. His handsome face, his soft lips, covered and hidden, and he shakes his head just enough for it to register.

“If that’s what you want. Okay,” he mumbles through his fingers.

My heart trips over itself, and the growing wetness in the corners of my eyes wants to give way to full-on tears. Am I royally fucking this up?

“Listen,” he says. “I’m supposed to be working on myself. My recovery. I didn’t plan to fall for you, but here we are. This back and forth, though, on and off, I’m sorry, Marvin, but it’s messing with me. It’s not healthy. For my sobriety. For me. Maybe I was wrong to let it go this far. And god, I can’t do this to Illona. It’s too much. We’re a package deal. I’ve fought so hard to keep things steady for her. I have to think about her first. If this is how you truly feel, we should probably end this now. Rip the Band-Aid off. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t yell, but his voice clearly conveys frustration. I’ve never heard him so distraught. My stomach drops out from under me, and I have the sudden urge to vomit. The possibility of this being our last time alone ties my stomach in hundreds of tiny knots. His words and matte tone fissure my heart. I’m torn between darting away and lurching toward him, clutching him close.

My hand shifts to the back of his neck, gingerly rubbing. I want to remember him like this, the cherry ChapStick on his lips, the fuzz on the base of his neck where his hair begins before it erupts into the gorgeous crown surrounding his head, all of him, close.

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