Language of Love

Cena

"What is it?" I ask. He takes a deep breath.

"What do you want from me? I like you, okay? You confuse the hell out of me. First, you flirt with me, but then you won't let me drive you home. Then, you text me. And then, you invite me in. But, you won't go get pizza or dinner. What do you want? I'm lost." He rambles.

"I like you, a lot actually. But, I've got issues, alright? I have a hard time trusting people, especially strangers. If we ever get closer, I'll tell you why. But, I just can't jump into things." I answer.

"Okay. Thank you. I know that was kind of an asshole move, sorry." He says.

"No, no. It's alright. You needed to know I get it. It's going to take me a while, Fitz. So, if you want to go off with someone who'll let you drive them home, who'll go out for pizza. Go for it. Don't wait for me, you don't even know me. There's no reason." I say.

"I think I can wait a little longer." He adds and turns to leave.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. The last block rolls around, and I welcome my students in. I load my presentation and begin teaching. Less distracted, thankfully. The popular girl turns around.

"Oh my god, stop staring at me! It's really freakin' creepy!" She remarks. I eye the jet black haired, emo kid. He scowls.

"Can we focus?" I ask.
"Not if he keeps staring at me!" The girl complains. The boy jumps up.
"I'm not even looking at you!" He shouts. I glance between the two.
"Can we calm down?" I ask. The boy whips out a switchblade.
"Oh, oh god," I say.
"Calm down? I'm not calming down." He says. He walks up to me. I take a few steps back, he keeps walking towards me.
"Were you like her in high school? Pretty and rich?" He asks.
"No, I was an orcha-dork. An orchestra geek. I played the violin and I was a total weirdo." I answer.
"Really?" He says, placing the knife closer to me. No one moves, they are all too scared. No one screams. After thirty gruesome seconds, the door swings open.

"Can I borrow....oh." The familiar voice says. At this point, I'm pinned against the screen.
"I'm going to need you to drop the weapon," Fitz says.
"Make me." The boy says, pressing closer. Tears fall, steady, from my face. Fitz tries to take a step closer, but he stops when the boy leans the knife into me more. Fitz changes his stance without the student noticing. He leaps across the room and tackles the student. When falling to the ground, the knife sliced my collarbone.

"Ow!" I yelp. I kick the knife out of the boy's grasp. Fitz pins him down.

"Go get administration!" He shouts. I run down the hall, my collarbone bleeding strong. I burst into the office.

"Kid, knife. Ow, help. My room." I breathe. The principal stands up and tells me to go to the nurse. So, I do. For the second time today. She drops whatever she's doing and hops over to me.

"Let me take care of that." She says. She cleans and patches it up. The bell rings. School is out. She continues to tend to my cut when Fitz walks in.

"Hey, how are you?" He asks.
"I'm fine, don't even need stitches," I say. He scans me, his eyes soft.
"The police are outside, they need your statement." He says. The nurse finishes soon and I walk out.

"We'd like to hear your side. What went down?" The officer asks. I explain the whole situation, then I'm asked a multitude of questions. I stand up and walk out to the parking lot. Footsteps from behind me get closer. Fitz. I sigh.

"Are still up for pizza?" I ask. He smirks.
"Really?" He questions.
"I mean you saved my life, so I think I can trust you to take me out for pizza," I say.
"Okay. There's this amazing place by our building. Is that okay?" He asks.
"Whatever. Go for it." I say. His bright eyes sparkle.

     He shows me to his car.
     "Is this it?" I ask, pointing to a small white car. He shakes his head.
     "No, this one." He says, unlocking a burgundy pick-up truck.
     "Oh," I say.

We get to the pizza joint and Fitz smiles. Inside the shop, a waiter greets us and takes us to a booth. We order and the pizza arrives.

     "Oh, crap." I blurt. Fitz looks up from his food.
     "What?" He says, looking around.
    "Question: how old are you?" I ask. His eyes go wide.
    "29? How old are you?"
    "24. Is that okay? Is this okay?" I ask.
    "I mean, I'm okay, if you're okay. Are you okay?" He asks.
    "Yeah. I mean, you didn't know. And like you just saved my life. And you haven't even tried to kiss me yet, so. I think it's fine." I answer.
    "Good," He says, relieved.
    "So, can I ask you another question?"
    "Go for it." He answers.
    "Why me?" I ask.
    "I'm sorry, what?" He says.
    "You know, why did you ask me out? I mean, I'm not the prettiest. I'm not the only single woman at Caldwell. I totally embarrassed myself in front of you the first day. So, why?" I ask.
     "I think you're beautiful. I also think it's fate. I mean, neighboring classrooms,  we were the only two left at lunch. Next door apartments? Bus duty on the same day? I happened to walk in when a kid had a knife to your throat and I got to play hero. What kind of luck is that?" He answers.
      I nod. We're done with pizza, so he pays and drives us to the apartment complex.

     He walks me up the stairs. When we get to my door, he stops. I look up at him, not wanting him to go.

     "Can I give you a goodbye kiss?" He asks.
    "No." I blurt. He looks confused but softens his face.
    "I'm sorry, I should've..." He starts.
    "No, I mean, don't give me a goodbye kiss. Come in. I don't want you to go yet." I elaborate.
    "Oh," He says, smiling.

    I unlock my door and invite him in.
    "Do you want me to help you unpack some more?" He asks, chuckling.
    "No, I'm not going to use you for manual labor," I answer.
    "Right..." He mutters. I take a step closer to him, his scent strong. I can feel his warmth without touching him. He looks down, his beautiful eyes scanning me.