Bad Teacher (Temp Title)

16| Frustrated

Casey

The tension in the car was so thick that not even a damned butter knife could slice through it.

Ten minutes ago I had watched as my brother loaded his bleeding friend into his car and sped off to the hospital. As the car filled with drunken, worried and bruised boys sped off, I knew we would have to make another plan to get home.

My plan didn't include Mr Black offering. And us accepting.

That was how Logan and I found ourselves in his tinted and large SUV truck. I sat passenger, after he insisted, and Logan had taken the back. Mr Black had even gone as far as to open our doors for us. The look that Logan had thrown me had a certain spark of mischief attached to it, telepathically communicating on his manners, and how the girls were definitely going to be told about this.

Sitting passenger meant being close to him. Too close. To feel the heat his body threw off and to inhale that masculine heady scent. I had to turn away, staring out the window. It was better this way.

I nervously tugged at the hem of my skirt, trying my best to keep my shaking hands calm. We were safe now. Too much had happened tonight. Too much to count.

This though, this was the cherry on the cake. Being driven home by him? It was a dream come true despite not having spoken with him for so long. Being apart from him hadn't quenched my thirst, and that hunger continued to spread through my being with a fiery potency.

"I hope Charlie's okay," Logan's tired voice echoed from the back. "I'll check with them in 20 if they haven't called yet."

Before I could answer, his deep voice cut through the air with urgency.

"He will be fine. The knife barely missed his kidney. Wasn't bleeding too badly so he won't die. He just needs to keep that cut clean and take some meds," he replied, sounding about as casual as talking about the weather.

How did he know all that by just looking at Charlie?

"How do you know that?" Logan voiced my thoughts.

This time I turned around to stare at the large, handsome man, waiting for his response. His jaw seemed to tick with my eyes on him, and I watched as his fist tightened around the wheel, his knuckles turning white with the force.

"My brother... he's a, uh, pathologist in the city."

"Oh. That's gross but also interesting," my best friend replied. He didn't need to explain that with his brother being a pathologist, it meant his location skills where organ were located were pretty spot on. Not only did being older make him wiser, but it also had my body strained with anticipation. For what I was not sure.

"What made him want to become a pathologist?" she inquired, and I could hear her vague interest but also the underlining need to have no awkward silences.

I could almost kiss her for keeping the conversation flowing. If it weren't for her, we probably wouldn't have spoken, that much I could confirm. If we were to talk, it would be strained and tension-filled like it always was. It would have been awkward and the air charged with that electric high that had no business being involved. Having my best friend around with her inquisitive nature had me calmly listening and observing, obsessing over the deep base of his voice and how interested I was in knowing more about him.

She asked the questions I didn't have the guts to ask.

"I guess it had to do with his fascination for dead bodies," his response once more casual, nonchalant. Like talking about dead bodies didn't bother him one bit.

What a strange man.

"Oh," Logan replied, her voice just above a whisper, clearing her throat. My lips twitched as I recognized that pause.