by Jordan Lynde
“So we’re all going to the fair tomorrow?” Sam asked, pulling my lunch towards him. “Are you going to eat your brownie?”
“Taking the roll of Lance, I see,” Sadie commented, rolling her eyes. “It’s Holly’s birthday. Let her have her brownie.”
Sam frowned at Sadie. “You spoil all my fun.”
“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to.”
I laughed as Sam grinned. “Sam, you can have my brownie. I don’t like them. And I have cookies from Danielle, anyway.” I shook the bag of chocolate chip cookies Danielle had baked me for my birthday. “I’m set.”
“Awesome,” Sam responded, taking my brownie off my tray. “You can keep the tray.”
“Whoa! Highlight of my day!” I responded with mock excitement.
“What are you doing tonight for your birthday?” Sadie asked. “Going somewhere with your mom?”
“Yeah. My mom is taking me, Jeremy, and Mr.—Mr. Ross, Jeremy’s dad, out to eat,” I corrected myself, blushing. That was too close.
Sadie wagged her eyebrows. “Who’s Jeremy?”
“Holly’s handsome elder companion,” Casey responded for me. “Holly likes older guys.”
“Casey!”
Sadie laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed about that!”
“I’m not!” I responded, my face still burning. “I not having a relationship with Jeremy, he’s just a friend.”
“Or is he?”
“Just a friend,” I assured Sadie.
She shrugged. “That’s too bad. You could use a boyfriend, Holly.”
Before I could respond someone tapped on my shoulder, making me jump. I twisted around in my seat to see an underclassman I didn’t recognize holding out a small, yellow piece of paper.
“Holly Evers?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah . . .?”
“This is for you, from Mr. Heywood. He wants to see you.”
He thrust the piece of paper closer to my face and I quickly grabbed it from him before he could stab my eye out. As soon as the paper left his hand, he turned and walked away. My eyes went from the boy to the note and I smiled at the sight of Mr. Heywood’s sloppy handwriting.
“Mr. Heywood is here today?” Sadie asked excitedly. “Yay! He’s been out sick for, like, forever.”
“What’s it say?” Casey prodded, looking at it over my shoulder at the note.
“Nothing much, he just wants to see me before lunch ends,” I told her, scanning over the note again. “I guess I can leave early . . .”
Casey smirked at me, coming closer, and lowering her voice. “You two alone, huh? And it’s your birthday . . .”
“Casey! Shh!”
“What? I’m just saying. You’re a legal adult now, Holly.”
Casey’s words sent a shock through my body. I was a legal adult now. I was eighteen. Mr. Heywood wanted me to go to his classroom, where we would be alone together . . . The perfect chance to confess?
“You’re blushing,” Casey chirped, a grin spreading across her face. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” I snapped, turning my face down.
“Sure, Holly, sure. What are you thinking?”
“Nothing!”
“You can’t lie to me.”
I blanked at Casey, who returned my look with an eyebrow raised. “Why does everyone say that?”
“Say what?”
“That I can’t lie to them!”
Casey laughed. “It’s because you’re so easy to see through, and you’re just not a good liar.”
I scowled, crossing my arms. “Gee, thanks.”
“No problem!”
“I’m going to go to Mr. Heywood’s room now,” I said, pushing myself off my seat. “I might be back, I might not . . .”
Casey raised her eyebrows suggestively, but I just rolled my eyes. I said good-bye to my friends, bussed my tray, and made my way out of the cafeteria. The halls were dead quiet as I walked along and I could hear my own footsteps reverberating against the walls. Anxiety suddenly filled me as I entered the science wing, and continued to grow as I headed for Mr. Heywood’s room. I stopped in front of it and took a deep breath before pushing it open.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as I stared at Mr. Heywood’s empty desk. I glanced around the room only to find it equally as empty. The supply room called me and I made my way towards it, opening the door and poking my head in. Still no Mr. Heywood.
“Where . . .?” I muttered, taking a step further into the supply room.
“Boo.”
My heart leapt into my throat as someone grabbed my shoulders and whispered into my ear. I twirled around, coming face to face with Mr. Heywood. He grinned at me, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. I scowled at him.
“What do you want?” I asked moodily.
“You jumped so hard,” he commented, grinning wider.
I blushed and quickly turned my head away from him. “Ha ha, so funny.”
“Oh, don’t be a killjoy.”
“What do you want?” I repeated, my face still hot.
I heard Mr. Heywood sigh. “I need you to tell your mom that I’ll have to meet you guys at the restaurant because I have something to do first. I won’t be late, but it’ll just be easier to meet there.”
“Okay,” I responded, turning to face him again. He stared at me intently and I raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “What?”
“You have a little something . . .” He raised a hand up to my face and gently brushed his finger along my lower lip.
Immediately I turned red and slapped his hand away in surprise. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, a smirk appearing on his lips. Doing my best to ignore his expression, I quickly ran the back of my hand over my.
“So what are we celebrating tonight?” Mr. Heywood asked in a confused tone.
I stared at him blankly. By now I could tell when he was kidding, so he didn’t fool me this time. Mr. Heywood smirked as I did my best to ignore his teasing.
“Oh, that’s right,” Mr. Heywood continued, nodding. “This is a thank-you for watching you last weekend. How nice of your mother to invite me. Osaka is my favorite restaurant.”
“What a coincidence, mine too,” I responded, smiling. “Though I wonder why my mom would invite you since it is my birthday and you’re just my teacher.”
I did my best to keep a straight face and hide the smirk that wanted to slip onto my face. Mr. Heywood frowned, obviously not expecting my response. He teased me all the time, so wasn’t if fair that I could tease him back sometimes?
“It’s not that weird,” he told me with a shrug.
“Yes, it is.”
“You don’t want me to go?”
“That’s not it!” I said quickly. Mr. Heywood smirked in triumph and I realized my mistake. Another blush appeared on my face and I looked at the ground in defeat. He played dirty.
“I have a confession to make,” Mr. Heywood started. “It’s not a big confession, but a confession nonetheless.”
Immediately I understood what he was trying to do. He was trying to hint that I should re-confess to him! My eyes widened in shock and I stared at him for a minute, trying to form a coherent sentence. He returned my look with an innocent one, trying to act like he was oblivious to what he was trying to do.
“What is it?” I finally managed to ask, keeping my voice steady.
“I have to confess that I feel bad about forgetting that today was your birthday.”
I narrowed my eyes. Sure he did.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said.
“Do you have anything you want to say to me?”
“Nope.”
Mr. Heywood’s expression became confused for a split second until he quickly rearranged it into his normal smug one. “Is that so?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
If he thought I was going to confess twice, he was dead wrong. I was going to take Jeremy’s suggestion. It was only fair that Mr. Heywood sh
ould be the one to confess after the disaster last time. My face heated up slightly from the memory, but not enough so that anyone could tell I was blushing.
Suddenly the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over. Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow at me and I returned his look with a shrug.
“Time for class,” I said, moving around him toward the classroom. “We can talk again tonight.”
“Right,” I heard Mr. Heywood respond, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he sounded a little annoyed.
This brought a small smirk to my face. Oh, this was going to be an interesting night.
*
“Holly, are you almost ready?”
“In a moment!” I called down to my mom, quickly coating my eyelashes with a thin layer of mascara. When I was finished I tossed my mascara back into my makeup box and made sure my eyeliner hadn’t smudged. Everything looked okay.
My mom had ordered me to wear something dressy to the restaurant, since it was a fancy place. Eventually I chose the crimson dress I had worn to my junior prom. It wasn’t too elegant, but it wasn’t too plain either. It was strapless and seemed to fit to my curves perfectly. There was a small dip in the neckline, showing off just enough skin to look attractive and appropriate. The hem of the dress came to about an inch longer than mid-thigh, and I ran my hands over it, trying to make it go a little further. Short dresses usually weren’t my style, but tonight was a little different. I was trying to get Mr. Heywood to confess to me. I knew it was a long shot since my mom and Jeremy would be there, but it was still worth a shot. I would have to find a way to get Mr. Heywood alone . . . maybe Jeremy could help me with that.
A stray piece of hair fell into my face and I quickly brushed it back, frowning at myself in the mirror. My hair didn’t look horrible, but the only thing I had done with it was to straighten it, so it looked the same as it did every day. Luckily my chestnut hair matched well with my dress.
“Holly!”
“I’m coming!”
After one last glance in the mirror I grabbed my small red purse off my bed and hurried down the stairs to where my mom was waiting by the door. She appraised me with her eyes, a smile spreading onto her face.
“You look hot.”
“Mom,” I muttered, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment. “Don’t say that.”
“But it’s the truth.”
“You look great too,” I told her, looking at her modest black dress. It was a lot like mine, except not as tight.
“Well thank you,” she responded. “Now let’s go.”
On the way to Osaka I stayed quiet, my nerves getting the best of me. I drummed my fingers on the window mindlessly, chewing on my bottom lip. Why had I dressed up so much? I should have gone for a more casual look. Were Jeremy and Mr. Heywood dressing up? Knowing my mom, she had probably told them to. Maybe they would show up in tuxedos.
We arrived at the restaurant far too early. My mom smiled at me as she shut off the car. I tried to smile back, but it probably looked more like a grimace. My heart was pounding so hard I thought my chest was going to burst. I didn’t have anything to be so nervous about. My mom was taking Mr. Heywood to dinner, not me. This wasn’t a date. This was a birthday and thank-you dinner. Sure, I was dressed up, but I didn’t have to be so nervous about that!
“C’mon honey,” my mom urged, opening her door. “Mr. Heywood and Jared are probably here already.”
“Jeremy,” I corrected her, letting out a rush of air. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath.
“Jeremy,” mom repeated under her breath. “Jeremy, Jeremy.”
Together we made our way towards the entrance of Osaka. It felt like the butterflies in my stomach were having a raging college party. I swallowed nervously, clenching my fists. Why was I so nervous? It was so annoying! I was only going to dinner with my teacher . . .
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Why did you invite Mr. Heywood?” I asked bluntly, finally getting off my mind the question that had been on it for the past few days.
My mom looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “I thought I told you. As a thank-you.”
“But don’t you think it’s a little weird . . . since he’s my teacher?”
My mom smiled at me. “You know, your father and I were seven years apart.”
I stared at my mom dumbfounded. “W-what?”
“I was seventeen when I started dating him. He was twenty-four,” my mom continued. “When I was in high school he was my American literature teacher.”
“What?” It was the only thing I could say. My mind racing with this new information. My dad was my mom’s teacher at one point?
My mom laughed, turning to face me fully. “Isn’t it scary how much mother and daughter are alike?”
“Wait, wait,” I said, shaking my head. “Mom, Mr. Heywood and I aren’t—”
“But you like him right?”
I blushed, giving myself away. My mom laughed again, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Holly, you don’t have to lie to me. I’d be a hypocrite if I said you couldn’t be together. Besides, I’d have to be blind to not realize how you feel about each other.”
“Wait. How do you know?”
My mom suddenly looked embarrassed. “Don’t get angry, but remember that time I quote, unquote, ran into Mr. Heywood at the grocery store?”
“Yes . . .”
“I listened in on your conversation after that for a little bit,” my mom admitted, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, but I was curious.”
My eyes flew wide open and I stared at her in shock. She had listened to our conversation? But we had talked about the gangsters! “Mom, did you hear everything?”
My mom shook her head. “No, I actually was making some phone calls. But I sort of also sneaked a peek into the room and that was all I needed to know. Then when I said I was going home, I also listened in again.”
“So, wait, is this dinner . . . Are you trying to set us up?”
Once again, my mom blushed and nodded. “In a way, yes.”
“So that’s why you’re so calm about the ‘he’s my teacher’ situation,” I commented, still a bit surprised.
“Holly, it shouldn’t matter whether or not he’s your teacher,” my mom told me. “Trust me, when I was in high school I thought it mattered and it only put a rift between your father and me for a time.”
“How come you’ve never told me Dad used to be your teacher?”
She laughed, scratching the back of my head. “I didn’t want you to be creeped out.”
“Well, I’d be a hypocrite if I was,” I told her, smiling slightly. “But I have another question. Why are you so eager to get Mr. Heywood and I together?”
My mom smiled. “Because I got the feeling that you two were meant for each other, as cheesy as that sounds. You two reminded me of your father and me when we were younger. And I know the situation you’re in now. I just want to help you out.”
“What would you say if I told you that you were wrong and I didn’t like him?”
“Well, I’d be pretty embarrassed.” We both laughed at that and my mom put an arm over my shoulder. “Come on, let’s go in now.”
The warmth in the restaurant was a welcoming feeling compared to the chilly air outside. Delicious scents of Japanese food and other cuisines filled my nose, making my stomach rumble. We made our way up to the waiting area and Mom went to get our reservation.
I wondered around the waiting area, looking at the paintings on the walls. Half of them looked like a small child had drawn them. A small grin made its way onto my face as I distracted myself by finding funny images in each canvas. Art was really entertaining sometimes.
Suddenly something hard hit my side, sending me staggering in the high heels that I was not used to wearing. Luckily I managed to stop myself from falling by grasping the edge of a very convenient bench.
I heard a familiar laugh. “Dude, be careful. You almost just knocked over this fine, young lady.”
“I’m so sorry,” an even more familiar voice apologized and I felt a strong grasp on my upper arm, supporting me as I righted myself in my heels.
I didn’t turn around right away, suddenly too embarrassed to face Mr. Heywood. However, his hand didn’t leave my arm and I felt him tugging me around to face him. My eyes were on the ground at first, but I slowly raised them to his face.
Mr. Heywood was staring at me in complete shock. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see his jaw on the ground. I quickly glanced at Jeremy. He was looking back at me just as surprised, except his jaw was practically on the floor. I almost laughed at his reaction.
“Holly,” Mr. Heywood finally breathed, letting my arm go.
“Mr. . . . Chris,” I corrected myself boldly.
Now his jaw did drop, but he quickly closed it again and turned his face away from me. Which was good, because a blush appeared at my face from my bold use of his name. While his head was turned I used the opportunity to check him out.
To my pleasant surprise, he was wearing a tuxedo. It was black and he was wearing a white shirt underneath the jacket and a red tie that was the same shade as my dress. I smiled at the coincidence. When Mr. Heywood turned back to me I realized just how handsome he looked in the tux. I almost forgot how to breathe.
“You look . . .” he began. “You look . . .”
“Gorgeous!” Jeremy cried, gathering me up in a bear hug. “Damn Holly, I could have mistaken you for Miss America.”
I blushed as Jeremy crushed me to death. “Don’t exaggerate,” I managed to choke out.
“Ow!” Jeremy cried, suddenly pulling away from me. “What was that for, Chris?”
“Couldn’t you tell you were killing her?” Mr. Heywood responded, frowning at him.
Jeremy smirked smugly. “You’re just jealous that I thought of the best compliment.”
I blushed, looking away from the pair of men. “Just forget it . . .”
“Let’s go find your mom now,” Jeremy suggested. “I want to meet my future mother-in-law.”
“Don’t get your hopes too high,” I heard Mr. Heywood mutter to Jeremy.
I started walking back towards the reservation area and I could hear Jeremy and Mr. Heywood follow me. My face was still hot from Jeremy’s comment and my palms were sweaty. As much as Jeremy’s opinion mattered to me, Mr. Heywood’s was more important.
