CHAPTER 4: AFTER SCHOOL
I was the first one to leave Chemistry that day. The lesson today was something I had taught myself a while ago. I had always loved Chemistry and been good at it. I literally shot out of my chair and bolted when the bell rang. I really didn’t want to talk to Blane or Dr. White about the little episode that occurred at the beginning of class.
Too late.
“Carter!” Blane hollered down the hall.
I pretended not to hear him as I turned left.
“Carter wait!”
I had no idea where the hell I was going, but Blane didn’t know that. Just as I thought he’d given up, he yelled, “AP Lang isn’t that way!”
As I looked down at my schedule, I saw that AP Language was second period. I turned 180 degrees and saw him smirk.
“How’d you know that?”
“I saw your schedule while you were amusing yourself with my handsome exterior.”
“I have a boyfriend, you know.” I blurted.
Why the hell did I say that? I have no idea, but I didn’t regret it. His eyes flickered for a brief second. If I had blinked, I would have missed it.
“Hard to get is always my favorite flavor” he smirked.
I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything. My mouth just hung there, wide open.
“Alright, beautiful. We have to hurry if you don’t want to make another scene like first period. Judging by the way you run away from me, you’re pretty quick. Lucky for you, so am I.”
We ran down the hallway and made a right. After approximately 50 paces, we turned left and then right again. We arrived.
After the bell rang, I tried to stay in my last class as long as possible. I really wasn’t in the mood to be tempted by the big bad wolf. It wasn’t all too bad because I was in AP World History with a very attractive, young teacher who had just graduated from Princeton.
“Hey, Mr. Smith?”
“Yes, Ms. Rosenthal?”
“I have a couple of questions.”
“Go for it!” he excitedly remarked. “Nobody’s really asked a good history question in a while. Let’s see if the new kid can.”
We talked for an hour. I was hoping for it to be around 10 minutes, just long enough for Blane to leave, but one “enlightening” question led to the next and soon we weren’t just discussing FDR but we were discussing Napoleon, Stalin, and the rest of the European dictators. We laughed and debated, and it felt so good to finally shed some light on my actual self. The self that I had tried so hard to sublimate in Florida.
“Damn it! Oh Carter, I’m so sorry but I gotta run. My wife was expecting me an hour ago.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve gotta head out too.”
“Where did you say you attended school before this?” he asked.
“Palms High… in Florida.”
“That isn’t known for being a very… prestigious… school. How?… Why?...”
“That’s for our next visit, Mr. Smith,” I said a bit flirtatiously.
Smiling, he replied, “Please, call me Chris.”
As I walked out the door, another surprise hit me.
“Hey sweet thang.”
“Blane! What the fu-… what are you doing here?”
“Yeesh, you talked a long time. I told you, I memorized your schedule. I had to make sure you got home alright, so I waited. Come on, I have to be home in 10 minutes.”
“Blane, I don’t want you to walk me home.”
“Carter, I waited outside this door for you for one hour while you flirted with your teacher. Damn straight, I’m walking you home.”
I couldn’t really blame him, so I gave in. Honestly, it wasn’t too hard to accept having the most popular guy in school walk you home.
