Page 21 of Tangled
It’s a little after six in the morning when I pull into the parking lot, securing my parking space and grabbing my thermos and lunch box before locking my truck and heading into campus. The smell of last night’s rain still hangs in the air as I take in a deep breath and savor the aroma. I missed this while overseas—and even though it’s been three years now since I’ve been home—I still remind myself to bask in the moments that make me feel grateful again. I swear, it’s the little things you fail to appreciate until you can’t experience them anymore.
I’ve spent a lot of time being angry and losing my happiness in reliving my failures and the ways in which other people have let me down. But over the past year particularly, I’ve tried really hard to focus on the positive, find the joy in the small pleasures that life brings us, and let go of the pain that weighs heavily on my mind and heart. At the suggestion of my parents, I started seeing a therapist three years ago to deal with the array of emotions I had trouble identifying and why. Therapy, along with having people like Tony and Drew, has helped me regain some control in my life. I’m a soldier who suffers from PTSD sporadically and whose life changed drastically when I came home—therapy was a necessary evil I’m not ashamed to admit that I needed.
Cracking a smile, I continue my trek onto campus. Mature trees line the sidewalks between buildings, the grey stucco with red accents paying homage to our school colors. My classroom is located in one of the two two-story buildings in the center of campus, which comprise the main offices in one of them and the English and History classes in the other. Beyond those are a few single-story pods that house the science, elective, and math classes. Our school grouped teachers from the same discipline in close proximity to maximize collaboration and support.
I also can’t help but smile a bit as I replay my weekend while walking up to my classroom, the soft splash of water beneath my feet providing background noise in the eerie quiet of the morning. A hellish storm rolled through our town last night and the remnants of its torrential downpour will make for an interesting day as our students try to avoid getting wet. The change in the seasons is coming, and I can already see the wet footprints smeared across the tile floor in my classroom.
Ashamed to admit this out loud, I mentally chastise myself for how many times my thoughts veered to the redhead who blew my mind Friday night. I can’t stop seeing her curves beneath my hands. I can’t stop hearing her moans and cries of pleasure as I made her come three times that night (yes, I kept count). And I can’t stop wishing that our sexual rendezvous could be a repeat. Not only had it been almost a year since I’d basked in the company of a woman, but I don’t think I ever encountered a female who made me as sexually hungry and left me as sexually satisfied as she did.
However, I know that it’s better this way. I got what I needed and so did she. I don’t want complications in my life. I don’t need a woman to rip my heart to shreds again. I’m finally starting to feel like me again and entertaining the thoughts of more with a woman will only set me back. All I needed was that release, and the fact that I got it with one of the sexiest women I’ve ever met makes me feel like I’m walking on air right now.
I arrive at my classroom, fiddling with my keys to unlock my door when I hear the most blood-curdling shriek I’ve ever heard in my entire life.
“EEEEEEKKKKKKK!”
My head twists so fast, I lose my balance and brace myself for the fall I know is coming. Luckily, I regain my footing before I hit the concrete and fall face-first into the behemoth of a puddle in front of my building.
“OH MY GOD!”
The voice squeals again as I drop my things, the clatter of my steel thermos rocking against the concrete and my lunch box slamming to the ground echoes behind me as I take off in the direction of the voice.
My heart is pounding in my chest, my feet slamming into the pavement and soaking up water from the puddles, my mind infiltrated with memories of women and children screaming after an explosive detonated in their village, the dust clouds powered red from blood spatter wafting through the air.
I feel my body react to danger, even though I have no idea what I’m running towards, but I’m preparing for the worst.
I feel the wetness of my shoes from soaking up the water under my feet and I hear the swish of my legs pumping fiercely as I run like a bullet shot from the barrel of a gun. My head twists and turns as I search for the person who sounds like they’re about to die, just as I pummel into a warm body in front of me, my hands reaching to enclose the person in my arms as I fight for balance so we don’t hit the wet pavement.
“Ahhhh!” She screams as we stumble and trip, her heels catching on the grass next to the sidewalk and my feet tiptoeing around, holding her to me as I bring us to a stop.
My eyes pop open and the shock registers instantly as I observe the person encased in my arms—and when I take in the red hair that’s been taunting me for the past seventy-two hours, the sudden panic I felt is magnified and then quickly replaced with utter confusion.
“Red?”
Those hazel eyes pop up and lock with mine as the same shock I’m feeling is written all over her face.
“Garrison?” She asks before pushing herself out of my arms, shaking and breathing frantically, smoothing her hair down before continuing the motion over her sleek black dress that hugs every curve I’ve already committed to memory.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I say a little too harshly, warranting a taken aback reaction from her.
“What do you mean? I work here!” She shouts at me, backing away and peering over her shoulder as if she was looking for someone.
“You work here?” I question, instantly running my fingers through my styled hair and then dragging my hands down my face and into my beard, absorbing the information that is quickly making the elation I felt just moments ago buried under a gut-wrenching reality.
Holy shit! She works here?
“What do you mean you work here?” I ask again, staring down at her while fury builds beneath my pulse.
“I start today. I’m replacing Mr. Kirk, the math teacher that left. What areyoudoing here?” She counters, still fighting to get her breathing under control.
Of course, this would happen! I finally let go, give myself permission to fuck a woman senseless after almost a year, and thoroughly enjoy myself, might I add—and the woman turns out to be my new co-worker.
I sigh while pinching the bridge of my nose, admitting defeat and cursing karma for rearing its ugly head. “I work here too.”
“Oh shit,” she whispers.
“What were you screaming about that made me think I was going to have to kill someone?”
She glances down at the ground before a shudder racks her body. “Ugh! There are a ton of crickets in my classroom right inside of the door. I got here early to finish up a few things before the kids arrive, and when I opened the door, they scattered everywhere! I HATE crickets, Garrison!”