Hooked on You

by Jenn Matthews

  Another hand, attached to Amelia, who sat right at the back of the room. “She says he isn’t a man if he doesn’t go through with it.”

  “Great answer. If we look at this passage here”—she pointed to the projector and clicked through until she found the one she wanted—“she says, ‘Art thou afeard to be the same in thine own act and valour as thou art in desire?’ She’s saying he should act rather than just want to act. I suppose she’s saying actions speak louder than words, isn’t she?”

  Invigorated scribbling spread through the classroom. She stood back and allowed the class to write, to take in the things they had decided upon. At times like these she truly loved teaching, when it inspired her and made her glad she had decided to do it all those years ago.

  The bell rang for the end of the lesson. The scraping of chairs and collecting of possessions made thinking difficult, but then her world quietened as the class moved out into the corridor. It was almost time for the book club, and today it was the turn of the Year 7 group, who wanted to learn about Colin Dann and his animal books.

  She left the classroom and rounded the corner towards the staffroom, intending on a quick bite of her sandwich before the club. She gave Liam a wave as he emerged from the staffroom door. He waved back and then approached her.

  “Hello, gorgeous.” He held out his arms and caught her waist.

  She stiffened and allowed him to peck her cheek before stepping away. Looking hesitantly around the corridor, she took in the kids raising their eyebrows at them. “Not at work, Liam, please.”

  “Sorry.” But he was grinning smugly.

  “Anna, you should have your lunch.” Timothy had arrived, his arms full of boxes— presumably of stationary. His eyebrows were pressed downwards in an expression she recognised as concern.

  “I was just about to,” Anna said and tried to move towards the staffroom through the bustling of children.

  Liam stepped into her path. “Perhaps one real kiss, just for me?” He flicked his eyebrows up once. “To keep an old man going until the end of the day?” He reached for her again, and her gaze flicked up and down the corridor. Does he really need this to feel like a man? Can’t he do that without pestering me at school? What if the Head sees?

  “Anna doesn’t look comfortable with giving you a kiss,” Timothy said, his stare at them penetrating. “Her back is tense and her shoulders are up. That indicates she is uncomfortable with the situation.”

  Liam gave him a withering look. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about, son.”

  “I do,” Timothy argued. “I’ve researched extensively my adoptive mother’s behaviour so that I don’t misunderstand how she is feeling. I do that with people I have the most interactions with.” He stepped back and frowned at Liam. “I don’t know how you are feeling because I haven’t done any research.”

  “You strange boy,” Liam said, laughing. “And you really think Anna would be uncomfortable giving me a kiss? Of course she doesn’t mind.” He leant in and puckered up.

  Anna stepped away. “No, Liam. Timothy’s right. It’s inappropriate. And I do feel uncomfortable.” She sent Timothy a smile. “We’re at work, and we are not alone. Usually you’re such a stickler for policy.”

  “I’m on my official break. Contractually, my time is my own.” He looked from Anna to Timothy, huffed, and spread his arms wide, nearly smacking a Year 8 around the face with his hand. The pupil ducked and murmured something Anna was sure was a swear word, but she ignored it. Liam walked away, weaving between the remaining children as they all fled towards the canteen for their food.

  Continuing to smile at Timothy, Anna beckoned for him to come closer.

  He shook his head. “I have to get these set out for when the kids finish their lunch.” He lifted a finger from the bottom of one box. “And you have lunch to eat.”

  “I appreciate you standing up for me, Timothy.”

  “You’re welcome. I always will. I don’t like it when you’re uncomfortable.”

  “My hero,” she sighed, putting her head to one side. “And in the future, I’ll stand up for you a lot more, okay?”

  He grinned toothily. “You agreed with me just now. I consider that ‘standing up for me’.” He waved with the fingers not gripping his box, then moved away, towards where his shop was, and Anna turned into the staffroom to eat her lunch.

  Ollie held back from texting Anna; didn’t want to seem too eager.

  How long should I leave it? Two days? Three?

  At some point, Anna would find out about her sexuality, and Ollie wanted to have been as casual and as careful as she could before that happened, while still being a good friend. She supposed they could be defined as friends now.

  She rolled her shoulders a few times, enjoying her glass of wine after a vigorous morning in the swimming pool and a long Saturday afternoon at the shop. The Cock and Duck was thrumming with people, thumping music at a level just quiet enough to be able to talk, so long as one raised one’s voice.

  Matthew lounged across from her with his vodka and Coke.

  She side-eyed the straw in his glass, a bright shade of pink.

  He lifted an eyebrow back at her in defiance. “Coke is bad for your teeth,” he said. “I’m just giving my pearly whites a chance.”

  She nodded distractedly, her hand tracing the outline of her phone in her pocket, wondering if she should just take it out and use it, rather than hoping it would buzz with a text from Anna.

  She wrinkled her nose. The Cock and Duck still smelled of cigarettes so many years after the smoking ban had come into effect, which made Ollie wonder whether they’d properly cleaned it in ten years.

  Matthew was following a dark-haired young man with his eyes. He picked up his drink and stared at the man over the rim. After a moment, he took the straw out and pointed it at him. Ollie slowly glanced over her shoulder. The man seemed a little older than Matthew but had nice eyes and stood confidently with his drink in his hand, his elbow on the bar. She didn’t recognise him, but that barely meant anything these days. She didn’t look at people all that much. She focused mostly on Matthew while they were out. No one is ever interested in me, so why bother? She snorted.

  Matthew pursed his lips around a smile.

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you going for it, or shall I go get him for you?” Ollie pushed back her chair.

  Matthew flew a hand out and grabbed her arm. “Subtle, Ollie,” he whined, eyes wide. “Just…wait a minute.”

  “No point in seeming too eager?” Her lips curled.

  “I wouldn’t hesitate to agree.”

  She smiled and shook her head in defeat.

  “It works, though,” he continued, the ice in his drink tinkling as he poked his straw around. “You should try it.”

  “There’s no one here I’m interested in.” Her shoulders rose defensively.

  “I don’t mean here. God, some of these girls are young enough to be your—”

  “Yes, daughters. I am aware.”

  “No.” Matthew laid a hand on her shoulder.

  She shrugged the hand away.

  He leant closer. “I meant, you know, try it with Anna.”

  “Straight.” Ollie lifted her glass to her lips.

  “How do you know?”

  She sighed. “The indications are all pointing to it. Divorced.”

  “Irrelevant,” he said around his straw.

  “Has children.” She counted the items of evidence on her fingers.

  “Meh.”

  “Has a boyfriend.”

  “Inconclusive.”

  “Oh, honestly,” she said without raising her voice. “Matthew. She would have said something if she were…you know.”

  She didn’t like saying the word. It made her shudder with something that should have been long lost, something that five
years of actually allowing herself to look at other women should have blotted out of her.

  “You haven’t told her you’re gay.” Matthew tilted his head in accusation.

  “Well, yes, but that’s different, isn’t it?”

  “Why?”

  “What am I s-supposed to say?” Ollie said, fingers splayed in the air. “Hi, Anna. Oh, by the way I’m…” She sighed and shook her head.

  “Why on earth not? You need to start practising saying it in front of the mirror, Ollie.” He stared at her and then his face softened. “It’s just a word. It shouldn’t be that scary.”

  She scratched at her head and rolled it on her neck. “I know.”

  He took her hand and she looked down at their fingers all knotted together. Letting out a long breath, she squeezed his fingers tightly.

  “So, when you called her, did she sound pleased to hear your voice?” he asked.

  Ollie tried to remember Anna’s tone of voice amid the beating of her own heart. She swallowed. “A bit.”

  “And she said she would see you next week.”

  Can you read my mind? “She did.” Ollie inhaled quickly at a sudden thought. “Oh, but she hadn’t paid for this week just gone, so she probably feels obliged.”

  “Have some faith. It’s obvious she likes you.” He chewed his lip. “But in what capacity? That’s the million-dollar question.”

  “She suggested I text her,” Ollie said. “If I’m bored.”

  “And it’s been two whole days? And you haven’t?”

  A whine escaped her. “I don’t want to seem too eager. Or something.”

  “But she told you to?”

  “Maybe.” Ollie drained her glass with a large gulp.

  “Text her.” His eyes were wide as he pulled his hand from hers.

  Ollie took her phone out and looked at it. She sighed and shook her head. “What do I put?”

  “Am I actually going to have to talk you through this?”

  She shook her head quickly. “No. No, of course not.” She started typing, her hands ever so slightly shaking.

  “You should invite her here,” Matthew said, his gaze on the ceiling.

  As Ollie sent the text, a pleasant feeling blossomed in her stomach. The minute she processed what he had said, however, she folded her arms. “No. Not going to happen, Matthew.”

  He laughed.

  With a flush, she realised he was joking. She smacked his arm, and he pushed his eyebrows down, recoiling into his chair, even though she knew she hadn’t smacked him hard enough to cause any pain. “You be careful, soldier. You carry on and I’ll have to do something about Harry and you.” She grinned. “I’ve seen you staring at him across my classroom.”

  He looked absolutely appalled. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.” She indicated their empty glasses. “Another?”

  He nodded, his gaze returning to the young man he had eyes for out at the bar. “I’ll get them.”

  Ollie rolled her eyes.

  As she retrieved her phone from her bag on the way up to clean her teeth, Anna noticed Ollie had sent her a text. Typical—the one time I leave my phone in my handbag, I get a text from her.

  She rested one ankle on top of the other and leant back against the headboard. She curled her toes inside her bedsocks before wiggling her shoulders into the pillows and opening the message.

  Hi. It’s Ollie. Hope your evening is going okay?

  The familiar warmth began in her stomach, similar to when they had spoken on the phone the week before. Why does the fact that a friend has texted me make me feel like a teenager? Grown-ups were allowed to receive texts, surely?

  And that was such an alien word for her. Friend. Did she actually have any? Patricia, whom she spoke to on the phone as often as she could with their conflicting schedules, but they lived so far away from one another these days it was difficult to actually meet up face-to-face. Most of the female staff at school were younger than she was.

  Ollie was about the same age. Perhaps a bit younger. Anna wasn’t sure.

  How should I reply? I’m going to need something to help me think. She pulled off her weekend clothes and put on her pyjamas. The brushed cotton felt soft and comfortable against her skin. She carried her phone back downstairs and went to the kitchen cupboard, found her bottle of red, and poured herself a glass. Once she was settled on the sofa, she reread the message from Ollie and typed out a response.

  Hi Ollie. My evening is going okay, just having a glass of red! What are you up to?

  Her insides squealing childishly, Anna sipped at her wine and picked up her book from the arm of the sofa, hoping to distract herself. She opened it to where the bookmark rested. She read one line. Her phone pinged and she snapped the book shut again.

  Helping Matthew pick up potential partners. Save me!

  Anna chuckled and shook her head.

  That does not sound fun. I’ve had a day of dusting and detailing the oven. I’m reading Jane Austen for the eightieth time. All my perishable plants are inside for the winter, cosy in my greenhouse. Perhaps I’ll do some more of my blanket.

  Another message reached her phone, and she kept it in her hand. Her book forgotten for the moment, she laid it on the arm of the sofa.

  Heaven. And well deserved after such a busy day. How is the blanket going? x

  Anna’s stomach fluttered as she gazed at her phone.

  Arthur trotted over from the armchair, meowing. He jumped up beside her on the sofa and she allowed him to settle down, his head curled by her hip. He stretched out a paw across her belly, his eyes shuttering in a human-like smile.

  She texted Ollie back while trying not to move too much and disturb the cat.

  Not too badly—I’m on my fifth row. I might change colours. X

  She tapped a fingertip against the side of her phone. Do friends use a kiss at the end of a text? She squinted and checked back. Ollie had used a kiss; she hadn’t imagined it. Maybe it was like punctuation. She put her fingers to her forehead but grinned. My old English teacher would have my guts for garters.

  Her phone pinged.

  Good going, Anna. Cream or navy next? X

  Anna’s breath caught. Ollie remembered which colours she had chosen.

  Navy, I think. X

  She rested her cheek against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. Both kids were in their rooms; she could hear Timothy’s television muffled by the ceiling. Harmony had descended over her little house, and she was glad. Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she sighed.

  She set her wine glass on the coffee table and reached for her cloth bag. Arthur meowed in irritation at the disturbance. She retrieved the next colour and found the end. How on earth do I join one colour to another?

  The Internet was fruitful with crochet advice when she searched on her phone. She didn’t want to bother Ollie every single time she needed help. All the tips seemed far too complicated for a wine-accompanied evening, however. She tied the ends together into a knot and leaned back to look at it. That seemed neat enough.

  Good choice. Be great to see how big it’s getting on Thursday. Hope you have a lovely evening. X

  Anna grasped her hook and blanket in one hand, typed out a quick reply with the other.

  Why thank you. I still expect the whole thing to unravel before my very eyes, but we shall see. See you Thursday. X

  She settled down for the evening, her mind too awake to go to bed just yet.

  Ollie waited, leaning against the counter by the classroom kettle and glancing at the big clock on the wall. She tapped her fingertips against the underside of the counter. I hope she’s early again.

  People filtered in one by one, greeting her with hugs and smiles. There wasn’t a single person she didn’t love to see at her classes, and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t
want to be there. Ollie had been in so many places she didn’t want to be in her life.

  Luckily, as the morose thought entered her mind, Anna walked through the door, beaming. She said hello to Christian and Matthew, who both hugged her.

  Ollie hung back. She waited for their eyes to lock. They didn’t say a word to one another, just glances for a while. Nerves overtook her, however, and she dipped her head, letting her hair fall to hide her eyes.

  Anna sat by Christian and started to talk with him. Her expression brightened as he produced his final product: a blue basket with handles and an owl’s face. She rubbed his arm in glee and her eyes shone with delight.

  A battle prickled inside Ollie for a moment. She enjoyed Anna making new friends, but yet wanted Anna all to herself. Ollie shoved the turmoil away. Of course she can have friends other than me. How selfish is that? She took a big breath and forced her insides to settle.

  Beside them sat Sarah. She was a short woman with wavy hair in a ponytail. Ollie remembered her wearing it up in a beautiful, intricate French braid when Ollie attended her fortieth birthday party a few months ago. Her large hazel eyes spent most of their time stealing glances at Christian.

  Watching their introductions, Ollie felt a twist in her stomach. She’s barely said hi to me. She screwed her eyes tightly shut. At least with Anna occupied, Ollie would have a chance to focus on the rest of the group anyway. And it would maybe stop Matthew being such a nag about her attraction towards Anna.

  She handed out a pattern to make button-up cuffs—quite a feminine article, but good as a Christmas present. “You’ll need a six for these and any yarn you fancy. I’ve made some with a sparkle in, which works well.”

  A few people went out to choose yarn.

  When she stepped up towards Sarah, Christian, and Anna with patterns in hand, Anna smiled up at her. Warmth seeped into Ollie’s bones as their gazes locked.