Page 32 of Passing Notes
“Don’t talk to her like that,” I snapped. “Show some respect.”
“Oh, like you were respecting her the other morning?” he hissed under his breath.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I hissed back. “If you say one word about that to anyone, I’ll make you more miserable than you already are. Do you hear me? Clara is off limits.”
He nodded once as he passed, glaring at me as he sat his mean ass down on the sofa along the back wall. If the rumors were true, it was one of the preferred spots our illustrious former principal and his secretary liked to conduct their extracurricular activities on. No one told old man Neal though. Quite a few of us teachers had been subjected to his judgmental bullshit when we were here as students. Suffice it to say he was not well-liked.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to him. Whatever he said, it’s fine. He’s been talking behind my back for years because he’s too scared to say anything to my face. Isn’t that right, Geoffrey?”
“It’s Mr. Neal,” he corrected her as Court returned. He shoved a pod in the Keurig and shot Clara a grin.
“Whatever you say, Geoff,” she bit out with a hostile grin. “Guess what, my schedule suddenly opened up. I’ll see y’all tonight at Genie’s wearing my best hillbilly trash outfit just for Geoffypoo’s grumpy ass. Y’all be sure to save me a seat at the bar.”
Mr. Neal sputtered and got up from the couch. “Miss Hill, you’re impossible and you always have been. Good day.”
Clara glared at him before breezing through the door with a little wave aimed his way. He followed behind, then turned down the hall toward the library.
“I like her—” Court started.
“Don’t.” My voice was a low grunt. Could I have acted any more like a possessive neanderthal? Shit, I was going to give everything away on her first day here if I wasn’t careful.
“Not where I was going with that.” He laughed. “But I get you loud and clear. Clara is off limits.”
Clay breezed in, bag of takeout in his hand. “Who’s off limits? The new sub?”
“No one,” I bit out and Clay laughed.
“Gotcha.” He took a seat at the table and dug into his lunch. “Don’t ask the hot new sub out.”
“I’m not available anyway,” Court deadpanned. “No worries, Nick, seriously. We won’t say a word about your massive crush on Miss Hill.”
I heaved out a sigh. “Thanks, I know you won’t. I just... She just... Fuck.” Better to let them think I was crushing on her rather than dredge up all the history we shared.
“Look, we’ve all been there. In fact, I might be there too, right now,” Clay added.
“Sorry, man.”
“It is what it is.” I knew he wouldn’t talk about it with me. None of us were the type to share our feelings, at least not with each other. We were more prone to zone out while playing football in silent sympathy or by exchanging knowing looks over the pool table at Genie’s.
Was that a problem? Probably.
“Later.” I took my now-filled mug of coffee from beneath the Keurig and decided to finish out my prep period alone in my classroom and try to clear my head.
Clara was here.
In this building.
Driving me crazy.
Again.
Memories of how I’d felt passing her in the halls, running into her at her locker or the cafeteria, or seeing her under the bleachers with her friends while I was in PE or at football practice running the track assaulted me as I walked. Just like back then, she was mine and I couldn’t say a word about it. She belonged with me, and I was the idiot who’d let her go without a fight all those years ago.
Instead of going directly to my classroom, I took a detour and wound up in front of her old locker. We’d always passed notes back and forth. I used to slip them inside her locker at lunch. Her mother wouldn’t let her have a cell phone, so we didn’t text like most of our classmates did.
I inhaled a sharp breath, stuttering to a stop when I saw her standing there, like something straight out of a memory or the dream I sometimes had.
“Remember when you used to slip notes through the side right here?” Her finger traced gently over the small opening. “That always used to be the best part of my day.”