Miss. Parsons is a fresh-out-of-college high school English Literature teacher who has a passion for love, Shakespeare and apparently, hunky southern cowboys. She pays close attention to detail, including the flirty smiles exchanged by students and...
Wrangling my flowing strawberry blonde waves into one hand I manage to tie them into a knot on the back of my head to relieve heat on the back of my neck. I swipe my palms against my blue jeans in an attempt to dry them while I prepare for my next class to walk through the door. The bell rings and suddenly my heart begins knocking at my rib cage, asking to be released. A forced smile maneuvers it's way onto my face as the class files in through the door, including Mabel.
"Good afternoon class, it's the day before winter break so I don't have anything planned." I reluctantly admit as cheers fill the air, they're anxious to leave since this is the last class of the day. "So, I'm gonna pop in The Notebook because of its similarities to Shakespeare." I attempted to convince them, although I had just wanted to watch it myself.
Someone turns off the lights and through the darkness I see Colton and Jeanne sitting with each other, Colton is uninterested in whatever she is saying as she runs a single nail up against his exposed arm muscle. Jeanne notices this and slowly retracts her hand while simultaneously lowering her gaze like a dog who had been reprimanded. His attention is focused on Mabel, who is intensely watching the movie playing, his blue eyes burning a hole into the side of her head. I decide to turn back to the movie and watch as Ryan Gosling confesses his undying love for Rachel McAdams.
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They're strolling through the park as the old man is telling his lady companion a story when the bell interrupts class time. Teenagers are eager to leave the room and the lights are flicked on without warning causing my eyes to adjust faster than they need too. Colton smiles at Jeanne although she doesn't return it, instead she looks upset with him and stomps out of the classroom leaving him behind; Mabel is gone too.
"Colton?" I hesitantly say, he's stood over his backpack taking his time as he slings it over one shoulder.
"Miss. Parsons." He replies, his tone dry.
"You can still get her back," I assure him, "Mabel, I mean." I quickly add on to my before sentence before he takes it
He shakes his head, no expression on his face yet his jaw is clenched, "Too late, she deserves better anyhow." With that he turns and leaves, he couldn't turn to look at me the entirety of our conversation instead his tone and gaze were bored. I sag my shoulders as exit my classroom, the only thing lifting my spirits is the thought of seeing Dustin.
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"What do you say, we play a game?" I suggest as Dustin is lying along the length of the couch with his hand rubbing against the food baby forming in his stomach.
He groans, "Not right now babygirl, Daddy's tired." His voice is laced with a teasing attitude and the grin that shows off his dimples is all the more evidence. "You do make a mean meatloaf though." He compliments as I make my way over to him, snuggling into the crook of space left for me. Dustin's chin is covered in a layer of hair along with his cheeks while his once buzzcut is now closer to a light brown color and more of a crew cut.
"Thank you, wanna know the secret?" He's laying on his back as his right arm snakes around my waist making it so that I don't fall, his eyes closed and a smile playing on his lips.
"Sure."
"Ketchup." I answer instead the cliche 'love', you would typically hear someone say, earning a laugh. "Anyway, that's not the kind of game I was talking about, " I nearly whine as I paw at his muscled chest, he peels open his right eye and raises his eyebrow along with it.
"Alright then, darlin', what game did you have in mind?" He's pushed himself into a sitting position, his long legs still stretched before him as I have intertwined mine with his.
"Twenty questions." My head against his stomach, Dustin almost snorts as I say this, but Harper's words keep playing in the back of my mind like a broken tape recorder.
"If that's what you want to do."
"What's your favorite color?" I begin with.
"Green like your eyes, yours?" I slap his stomach and he holds it in mock pain as a natural, 'ow' comes out of him.
"I'm being serious!" I tell him while fighting off the laughter trying to make its way out of me.
"So am I!" He says with a matter-of-fact tone dripping off of his words, I roll my eyes and continue regardless.
"Mine is purple because it's girly but not too girly, like me." Dustin's chest rumbles with a chuckle and I feel it vibrate against my face. "What's your favorite food?"
"Anything you make." He answers quickly, earning him another punch to the gut.
"Now you're just buttering me up." A blush works its way onto my cheek, rising from my neck.
"Well if I had to pick ONE dish," he heavily emphasizes the 'one', "my mama used the most amazing barbecue pulled pork and we'd make sandwiches out of it on her homemade corn muffins." His voice is honest as he reminisces.
"Used to?" I say without thought. "Wait, Dustin I'm sorry I didn't mean to overstep." I quickly say as he turns to face me with an eyebrow raised and overall confused look.
"Hey, nothing you can say would ever be overstepping, you should know these things." He assures me while rubbing a small shape on my lower back. "My mama passed away three years ago from breast cancer, she had been moved here seeing as there are better hospitals this way than in Tennessee and I made a life up here, job and all," he pauses and I know the next couple of words are difficult for him as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a spell.
"It was too difficult for my old man to stay here and he became weak, she was the love of his life and losing her made him go a little crazy, which is understandable. He's back home and I got custody of my little sister because the rest of my family decided he was not in the right state of mind." As he's telling me the story I begin to feel the back of my eyes sting with tears.
"That's a lot for you to go through in such a short period of time." I tell him and he draws out a long breath before recovering his smile.
"It is, but I managed." His arm tightens around me and he brings me so that I'm laying on top of him, my hands immediately reaching to tangle into his short hair, his nose finds its way to the crook of my neck and he takes slow and steady breathes. "God, I love you." There is no trace of hesitation when he says this and he pulls me even closer than I thought to be possible.
"I love you too." As the words slip from between my lips for the first time in my twenty four years of living, I feel whole.
"What're you doing for Christmas this year?" He asks, reeling his face back so that our noses are touching and the scruff from his beard rubs against my smooth cheek.
"Typically, it'd be Harper and I, but I think she's leaning towards going to my mom's," my voice trails off towards the end and Dustin is quick to catch it.
"You're not the biggest fan of your mom, I reckon?" He's trying not to pry and I'm appreciative of it.
"More like she's not mine, suppose I resemble my dead-beat father too much for her liking." I say honestly. Lowering my gaze, my fingers slowly trail from his hair to the collar of his shirt and I begin to toy with it, he takes his open palm and runs it over the back of my hair almost like he's smoothing away any fly-aways.
"Well, that's her loss now ain't it?" He counters and I consider this for a moment, "Ain't it, darlin'?" He asks again, this time through a smile as he rubs our noses together and I can't help mirroring his smile with one of my own.
"Yes, yes it is." I reply and for a minute, I believe it.
