Pencils and Pool Water (Complete)

Epilogue

18 Years Later

"I can't believe I'm sleeping with a teacher," I say loudly as I watch Simon roll out of bed. I shift into where he was laying, inhaling his scent. "It's like fulfilling a fantasy." 

He barked out a laugh as he pulled on boxers, looking adorable with his black hair tousled and cheeks flushed pink. "What? You had fantasies about sleeping with Mr. Broncos?" 

I scrunched up my nose as he laughed again, the sound filled the room like nothing else could. I got up, watching him as he tidied himself.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." 

I pouted, feeling like a child. "Why do you have to go to meetings? It's nine in the morning." 

He smiled at me in the mirror and he ran his nimble, artistically gifted fingers through his hair. "It's nine. You need to be at work in like two hours." 

I huffed, looking at the ceiling. Simon's been teaching English Literature at the local high school for about five years now, and my sex drive finds it mildly annoying that he works pretty much everyday all year, and when he gets home, he "doesn't want to deal with more hormones." ("It's stifling").  

But he gets summers off, so I think that's a large plus. He also always has interesting and funny classroom stories that remind me when we walked through the stuffed halls, going through our own little Soap Opera worthy drama. 

I got out of bed and wrapped my arms around my now suited boyfriend, looking over his shoulder and at us into the mirror. 

I kissed his neck, giving him goosebumps. "Calvin," he warned. "I'm going to be late." 

To answer him, I kissed him behind his ear, making sure he could feel the length of my body against his back, and his very weak will crumbled. 

When he left, I started to feel the niggling nostalgic urge to go and look through our things. Simon talking about teachers and things always made me miss school, and Molly and Gwen. Gwen's doing great as a veterinarian in the next county over, and from Facebook I see how she's doing. 

Molly's acting career is actually turning out okay; she's been in five pretty big films, and a handful of smaller ones, and I know she's playing a character in the movie they're making for some new book all of the young adults are obsessed with and all that. 

And Dad...

I winced, thinking of his funeral. It had been a shame that he had died at the age of 50 from a heart-attack due to work related stress, but in all honesty, I wasn't really surprised. I miss him, against my better judgement. I do. It hurts to think about the fact that he skipped Simon and I's wedding because of something "work related," just like everything else he put above us.

I tried not to dwell on that, pulling on a pair of sweats. I went to the top of the closet, reaching around blindly for the storage box that held my high school memories and possessions. Instead, a cardboard shoe box fell on my and slammed it's corner on the bridge of my nose.

A long string of curse words flew from my mouth as I clutched my throbbing nose, feeling tears come to my eyes against my will. I angrily picked up the box and tossed off the lid, seeing a single memory chip. 

"Well, well, well, what are you?" I asked as I turned it over in my hands. I recognized it as a camera memory card.  I went to my laptop, hooking it up, and clicking the icon on my screen. 

Do you trust this file? My computer asks. 

"I don't know, you tell me," I mutter, accepting it. 

It was in surprisingly good quality. Confusion and curiosity took over when I saw that Simon's innocent and youthful face was the screen preview. I clicked play without hesitation.

"Hi. I'm Simon Lake and I'm in high school." 

I felt a wave of shock at the differences between this Simon and the grown up man that I know and love. This Simon has large, innocent looking sapphires for eyes, and his skin was an untouched milky white, making his black hair and facial angles contrast. My Simon is more grown into his skin and his height, his voice is deeper, and he looks more like a man now. 

I winced as I heard a scrreeeeecchh and some tapping, and some muttered curse words. My eyes searched high-school-Simon's face, amused. 

"Hey, is this thing working? I just got this camera about a week ago," he cleared his throat, his unreal blue eyes looking around his room uncomfortably. "Err, right." 

He looked directly into the camera, and I shifted awkwardly, feeling like my husband was staring at me through the camera. "I just need to tell someone what's happened to me, and no one's ever going to find this... So... Why the heck not?" 

I snorted, feeling like I was going to get in on some really good stuff. Like a juicy piece of gossip about someone that you can use to tease them mercilessly. 

The video immediately had my attention when Young Simon said my name. "It all started at Calvin Fritter's party mid-July, the summer after 9th grade, so in the fall I'd be a sophomore..." 

I looked at the time on the video. Over three hours! My eyes glanced over the time and I grinned. I'd have more than enough time to watch this video and then decide what to do with my newfound power. Besides, did Simon ever tell me his point of view? I can't remember...

-

"Hey, I'm sorry, the meeting ran a little late, I-" Simon froze when he saw my ridiculous grin, and I almost giggled. He looked at the black memory chip in my hands, looking very confused. "What's that?" He asked, setting his bag down on the counter, walking towards me with a graceful caution that only Simon could manage. 

"Oh Simon," I said maliciously, feeling ridiculously happy. "You'll never guess what I found." 

He paled slightly, gulping. 

Oh, this was going to be good. 

The End