by Leta Blake
“Why? All your cousins do. When I was out on the farm with you for that Easter shindig last year, they were all going on about Uncle Rutty this and Uncle Rutty that.”
“His name’s Rutgers and it’s much more dignified.”
“Rutty’s more fun, though. Like Christmas at his place.” Lauren winked at him. “So, moving on, because I already know where every conversation about your mother ends up: you making excuses for her, nothing changing. Rinse, repeat. It’s exhausting and fruitless.”
Aaron jerked, the words a slap.
Lauren didn’t stop talking, though, or acknowledge that what she’d said hurt. “Why are you so…” She waved a hand at him up and down, and around and around. “Like that.”
“Like what?” What was so different about him today? Could getting laid really change his appearance so much?
“Rumpled? Haggard? I don’t know. You just look like you didn’t sleep at all last night. That Grindr date rough you up or what?”
Aaron flushed. “Nah. The Grindr dates stood me up. Both of them.”
“Ah. Then why do you look…?” She grimaced and waved at him again.
Damn, he really must look a mess. “I picked up a guy at Scruffy City Hall. The, uh, lead singer in the band that was playing. Pretty hot guy.”
“Oh, yeah?” Lauren’s eyebrow shot up.
“Um. Yeah.”
Her eyes lit up with delight. “Yes, Aaron.” She put out a hand for a high five. Aaron slapped her palm. “Get it, baby. What’s his name?”
“RJ.” Aaron tugged his lunch back over, his appetite not really returning, but he hoped a bite of his sandwich might obscure the last name. “RJ Blitz.”
Lauren’s grin fell off her face. She sat back and gaped at him. “Excuse me? Did you say RJ Blitz? As in our tall, gangly, ex-student from our days teaching at Taylor High RJ Blitz? Of the long hair and acne and scary glower that could explode a human brain from ten paces?”
Aaron swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin from his lunchbox. “He’s twenty-four now, his hair is short, and that was ages ago.”
“Holy shit, Aaron.” Lauren glanced around the room like there might be spies listening in the corners. “That’s…you know that’s not okay.”
“There’s nothing illegal about it.”
“No, but…” She blinked wildly, stunned. “How long ago was he a student exactly? We were still at Taylor High. That was, what, three years ago, right?”
“Yeah, but RJ was farther back than that. He was a student during my first year teaching. Your third.”
Lauren winced, dropped her fork into her thermos of mac and cheese, and stared at him. “I just…how can…? He was a student, Aaron.”
“Yes, I know! But for God’s sake, he’s not now!”
“No, but…” She chewed her lower lip, conflicted. “What’s…what’s he like now?”
Aaron snarked, “Entirely adult.”
“I mean, I’d hope so. But what’s his job?”
“A guitarist. Tours the world. Home for the holidays.” Aaron didn’t know why he was being so stingy with information, but his defenses were up now. He’d known she’d react like this—any teacher would—but he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Doing? No, done. Past tense. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
It was over and finished.
“I don’t know about this, Aaron.”
He put his hand on Lauren’s forearm reassuringly. “Look, it was a one-night stand. It’s no big deal. Nothing’s going to come of it.”
“I really hope not. I know I said that they can’t fire you for being gay, and no one is actively looking to invoke the code of ethics against you. But hooking up with a former student could piss some people off. It could cause a ton of problems for you, fair or not. You know, parents would take it the wrong way. Or one of our asshole colleagues. And if your mom found out…” Lauren grimaced. “She really wouldn’t like it.”
Don’t embarrass me, Aaron.
He could still hear the words his mother had hissed on his first day at Pineview Middle before she’d plastered on a smile for everyone else’s sake, and then “proudly” introduced him to the rest of the staff and faculty as her son. Most of them had known him for years, of course. He’d grown up at Pineview, both as a student and as the principal’s son, but his new position was clear to everyone: fellow teacher, to be treated as such. Don’t go easy on him. Don’t treat him as anyone special.
And his mother surely didn’t.
“I’m not seeing him again,” Aaron reassured Lauren.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I mean, if it’s just a fling, it’s not worth the drama.” Lauren closed her lunch box with finality that signaled their hour was almost up. “I’m glad you got it out of your system. I know how you get when you’ve waited too long to take care of business. You make rash choices.” She cleared her throat and winked. “Now you can spend the rest of the holidays the right way: relaxing at home with cocoa and Hallmark Christmas movies. Like me.”
Aaron laughed, his skin prickling with embarrassment over her assessment. She was right of course. He did make poor choices when he was horny. As for the rest, well, Lauren was the happiest single person he knew. She loved her alone time in her apartment, and had never dated, and never wanted to date anyone. “I do love the whole ‘stranded in a small town during the holidays’ trope. It’s got to be the basis for half those movies.”
“Half? Try three-fourths.”
Aaron grinned, grateful that Lauren had decided to stop scolding him and get back to their usual friendly, fun conversations.
“Oh, wow. Time has flown. Aren’t you meeting up with Carter Ward?” Lauren asked, glancing at the clock on the wall above the vending machines.
“Shit,” Aaron whispered, shoving the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “I am.”
Chapter Ten
Carter sat sullenly at his usual place in Aaron’s classroom. He kicked at the carpet and flicked a folded-up paper “football” back and forth on the desk in front of him.
“Sorry,” Aaron said, breezing in and tucking his unfinished lunch into his satchel beneath his desk in case he got hungry later. He turned back to Carter. The young man’s light brown hair looked freshly trimmed, and he had cut himself quite badly shaving that morning by the looks of his chin. No late blooming for him. “Time got away from me.”
“S’okay,” Carter said with a shrug.
Aaron sat down next to him in a student desk, folding himself up to fit into it, and smiled. “I do apologize, though. Students are important to me, and I know your time is just as valuable as mine. What’s going on? How can I help you?”
“I dunno.” Carter flicked the paper football with his right hand and caught it in his left palm. “I guess it’s not a big deal.”
“You’re here. It was a big enough deal that you wanted to talk to me about it.”
“Yeah.”
“So talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Aaron smiled patiently. “Okay, it’s nothing. But why don’t we talk about it anyway?”
“Sure. I guess.”
Aaron waited. Carter remained silent.
This was already way too much like his experience working with high schoolers. The sullen distance, the need for help, but the inability to actually ask for it. Those were all things that had made teaching high school less than ideal for him. But some middle schoolers faced a more rapid maturation rate, so they hit this stage young. And while it was frustrating to deal with, Aaron wasn’t about to give up now. “Is it a problem at school? Or at home?”
“It’s a problem with me.”
“With you? How’s that?”
“I don’t think I’m like all these other guys.” He frowned and flicked the paper football hard. It soared into the air and landed on the floor about eight feet away. Neither of them moved to retrieve it.
“In what way?”
“In every way.”
Aaron waited for him to elaborate.
Finally, Carter offered, “I’m no good at sports.”
“Lots of guys have other interests besides sports. Music, art, chorus.”
“Meh.”
“Robotics or—”
“I don’t like any of those things.”
“Okay. What do you like, Carter?” Aaron stretched his legs out in front of him, the shift making his butt ache a little. He cleared his throat and stayed focused on Carter.
Carter was edgy and silent for a long moment. “My stepbrother is home for Christmas. I don’t like him.”
Aaron tried not to visibly tense up. He’d asked what Carter liked, not what he didn’t, but this was the first insight he’d had into what was bothering the kid. Was this stepbrother hurting Carter in some way? He waited a few beats until he was sure his voice wouldn’t betray him. “Why’s that?”
“Because he makes me feel weird.”
“How so?”
Carter squirmed in his seat. “I don’t know. I just don’t like him okay?”
“Does he hurt you?”
Carter rolled his eyes. “No. He barely pays me any attention at all.”
“Ah.” Aaron tried to parse what he was being told. “And you don’t want him to pay you any attention? Or you do?”
“I don’t know. He’s…” Carter shrugged. “He’s my stepmom’s son. He was already grown up when my dad married her. So…” He wrinkled his nose.
“So you don’t like him?”
“I don’t like him being in our house. He doesn’t belong there.”
“I see.” Aaron sat back in his chair and let Carter’s posture and attitude sink in. There was something more to all of this, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Do you need my help talking to your parents about your stepbrother?”
“What? No!”
“All right. Do you need me to help you talk to your stepbrother himself?”
“No. I just…I guess I…” He grunted and then stood up. “Never mind. You don’t get it.”
“I’d like to get it.”
“Well, you don’t.” He huffed again, hitched his backpack on his shoulder and said, “Besides, you’re a fag.”
Aaron jerked, but he quickly pulled himself together. Where had that come from? It didn’t matter. He’d practiced for this moment ever since he’d started teaching. The fact that he hadn’t been called the F-word since college was amazing really, especially since he worked with teens and tweens. He was well past due for some verbal harassment from someone. The fact that it was coming from Carter wasn’t even a surprise. The kid was clearly dealing with something.
“We both know I could send you to Principal Shock for using that language.”
Carter’s shoulders drew up.
“But I won’t. Because I don’t think you’ll learn anything from that.” Carter’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but he still looked scared, like maybe he couldn’t believe he’d really said that word to his teacher. Aaron almost appreciated that Carter was invested in seeing this moment through. Like a dare to himself. A test of some sort.
Aaron stood up slowly, peering down at Carter, who was already beefier than him, more muscular for sure, but still shorter. “My private life is no one’s business but my own. However, if you need me to help you at home, with your parents, or your stepbrother, I’m willing to do that. You don’t have to leave it this way with me, Carter. I’m on your side.”
Carter pondered him for a long minute, snorted derisively, and then stalked from the room.
Aaron sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. His day had already been a doozy between waking up to morning-after regrets, facing his dragon of a mother in her guise as principal, enduring Lauren’s scolding, and then running late to meet a student. The actual meeting with Carter hadn’t made things any better.
He just hoped the day wouldn’t get any worse.
Chapter Eleven
After leaving Casey and Joel’s place in Casey’s Lexus, RJ went to the mall and did some Christmas shopping just to waste time. It felt weird to park a car that big and nice in the mall lot, but Casey had loaned it to him without any hesitation or limits, so if someone dinged it, then he reckoned that was at least partially Casey’s own fault.
It hadn’t taken RJ long to spend more than he’d intended to on some pretty, long-sleeved dresses for his mom from an upscale boutique and superhero toys for Beau and Perri from the only toy store left in the building. But then his spending spree came to an abrupt end. What should he get Doug or his stepbrother? He had no idea what thirteen-year-old boys liked these days. Or forty-six-year-old straight men for that matter.
Grabbing a Starbucks coffee from the kiosk, he pulled his phone from his pocket for the hundredth time. His messages remained stubbornly free of content from Mr. Aaron Danvers. He couldn’t make up his mind about how to handle that. He bought some wrapping paper, and then decided to continue his shopping another day. There was still plenty of time to procrastinate on the hard-to-find gifts.
Back at Mom and Doug’s, RJ parked Casey’s SUV on the car pad usually reserved for guests. He went inside and was instantly greeted by the scent of baking cookies. He grinned, eager for them, but first he hustled up the stairs to his room to hide the presents in a high place where snooping four-year-olds wouldn’t find them. Once that was done, he trotted down to the kitchen to snag a cookie or two.
Pausing in the doorway, he smiled at the sweet image of his two siblings decorating Christmas cookies. Even Carter sat at the table dutifully adding buttons to the snowman-shaped cookies’ middles.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Making cookies!” Perri said, her cheeks smeared with green sugar sprinkles.
“C’mon, you too, RJ,” Beau said, pointing an icing-covered finger toward the empty chair at the kitchen table. “Mom used the eggless egg-stuff just for you.”
Carter shot a strange wide-eyed look at RJ, the meaning of which was indecipherable. Maybe it was fear? Or panic? RJ wasn’t sure. It didn’t make him feel very welcome, though. He grabbed two unfrosted cookies from the cooling rack and backed away with a regretful smile.
“Sorry, kiddos, but I have some things to deal with upstairs.”
Like angsting over whether or not to text Aaron, or whether or not he should make a demo, or whether or not he should bother calling that real estate lady Madison had given him the number for so he could start searching for a little place to call his own. Really, maybe he’d be better off making cookies with the kids. But Carter gave him another weird look…
So, nah.
“Where’s Mom?” RJ asked, surprised that she wasn’t hovering with so much potential for mess on the table, what with the frosting and the sprinkles.
“Bathroom,” Carter said, darting another anxious look RJ’s way.
“Okay. You in charge while she’s away?”
Carter shrugged but said nothing.
“We’re big enough,” Perri said, tossing her long, blond hair. “Don’t need Carter to watch us.”
“We’re big like you, RJ,” Beau said, sending him one of his sweet, wide-eyed, worshipful looks.
“Right.” RJ watched them work a few more moments while he ate his cookies, noting Carter’s extreme reluctance to look his way, and then finally said, “Okay, well, I’m upstairs if you need anything. Save a few more for me, all right?”
Carter nodded, and the other two moaned about him leaving, but he just turned and left. Brady, the dog, at least was out back in the fenced yard and hadn’t barked at him. Carter’s nervousness was enough to make RJ feel out of place yet again—as always—in the family.
As he trudged up the stairs, dusting cookie crumbs from his T-shirt, he remembered a conversation he’d had the week before with the little ones. They’d been eating a snack at the kitchen table, and Perri had told him all about the lights Doug was going to put up around the house for the holidays.
RJ had winked
at Perri before saying, “Mom and I never put up lights when I was a kid—you guys are lucky.”
“Why?” Beau had asked, one small finger shoved up his nose.
Laughing, RJ had pulled it free and then wiped it off with a napkin. “Mom had to work a lot back then. There wasn’t much time for things like decorating. And she was tired all the time. Christmas was pretty low key when I was your age.”
“But you got presents, right?” Perri had asked, her big blue eyes round and worried.
“I didn’t need presents.”
“Even from Santa?”
“Santa?” RJ had cleared his throat. “Santa was always good to me.” That wasn’t true, but he wasn’t going to break her heart. Then he’d kissed Perri on the forehead and they’d dropped the subject.
RJ knew his mom wished things had been different for him growing up, but neither of them could turn back time. And even if they could, nothing would change. She’d still be broke. He’d still be white trash. They’d still be barely making ends meet. It had been their life, and that was that.
The phone in his hand buzzed and he glanced down at it eagerly. Was it Aaron?
Rehearsal Friday at 3 instead? Ok by you?
Just Joel.
Sure.
Casey said you picked up your coat.
Yeah.
Good.
And, shit, why couldn’t he have left something at Mr. Danvers’s this morning instead? Then he’d have a reason to text, wouldn’t he? Why was he just thinking of that now?
Locking his bedroom door so that the little ones wouldn’t come barging in, RJ flung himself down on the mattress and curled onto his side to look out the big window. It opened out onto the street below. Christmas lights blinked and sparkled from the neighbor’s houses across the way as the evening descended earlier every night.
Hell. He had to try. Casey was right.
He got comfortable on his bed, adjusted his pillow behind his head, and then spent twenty minutes getting the text just right before he sent it.
Hey. How’d your day go?
He’d considered sending something flirty, and he’d erased half a dozen texts full of innuendo before finally settling on this message. It was relaxed, easy, something any new acquaintance might ask after a misspent night together.
