Page 32 of Romance Languages

I strolled into the hall and watched kids and teachers scurry to third period. The halls were abuzz for these few precious minutes. I high-fived current and former students passing by.

Across the hall, I peeked into Julian’s classroom. He leaned over his desk skimming papers. He glanced up and caught me looking.Busted.I gulped back a lump.

Why did it feel different now? We said hey to each other across the hall millions of times. That was before he’d held my cock in his hand and made me Old Faithful all over myself.

He gave me a half-wave, half-salute with a genial smile. I stared at his waving hand, the same hand that only hours ago…

You’re making it weird. Don’t make it weird.

I waved back and almost smacked a passing Principal Aguilar in the face.

“Easy there,” he said.

“Sorry.”

Julian chuckled at the scene. I took a small bow.

* * *

Later that morning,I settled in the teacher’s lounge trying to grade papers, which I was supposed to do last night.

A pair of teachers from the history department hung by the coffee station chatting about concert tickets they were planning to buy. These types of conversations were common at the start of the month. Teachers’ bank accounts were flush with cash from fresh paychecks. Their minds swirled with possibilities. I’d heard teachers discuss plans to go shopping, remodel kitchens, book trips.

A part of me deflated whenever I listened. I didn’t have that luxury.

As soon as my paycheck hit my account, a large chunk was deducted to chip away at my massive credit card debt repayment plan, a smaller-but-still-substantial chunk taken for student loans, and another chunk was transferred to Lauren to pay back the money I had taken. Add in the chunks for car payments, gas, and food, and poof, the money was gone before I knew it. Even with the extra cash I got from my second, mind-numbing data entry job, things were tight. I was still worth negative dollars. No concert tickets or trips for me.

It sucked, but what could I do? I’d put myself into this mess, not to mention an innocent woman, too. I’d fucked up majorly, and the scars of how I’d treated my ex-girlfriend would last longer than the debt.

Once I got out of the hole, I’d feel comfortable dating again. But deep down, I didn’t trust myself. I had an addiction. Addictions didn’t go away. It scared me how easily I could fall into another mess.

“Hey. You seem deep in thought.” Julian stood behind me. Talk about someone who was mess free…

“Just grading papers.”

“How many of your students forgot accent marks? It’s inching up to forty percent for me Not like I’m keeping track.” Julian poured himself a cup of coffee. My eyes naturally watched his hand. Julian knew how to hold things.

“How are you feeling?” I asked as he gulped down his drink.

“Still a little hungover, but the coffee helps.”

His eyes were clearer now, no longer bloodshot. Their bright brown hue was like a warm hug from an old friend.

We stood there silently, awkwardly drinking our coffee. I’d promised him things wouldn’t be awkward with our arrangement. I had to hold up my end of the deal.

“This is good coffee,” I said. “Sometimes, the coffee sucks, and sometimes it’s good. I don’t know why that happens.”

“It’s like the coffee maker has a mind of its own.” Julian sipped his coffee, and for a second, I wondered what his mouth would feel like on my dick.

You’re making it weird. Don’t. Make. It. Weird.

Mr. Claffy, an older English teacher, joined us. “Seamus, you’re handy.”

I choked on my coffee. “What?”

“Can you help me? My Snickers bar is stuck in the vending machine.”

“That’s been happening. I thought they brought someone in to fix it,” Julian said, cool as a cucumber.

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