She had been trying really hard not to puke all over the hallway. Guess what?
Yep, the puking commenced. Now the front of my dress was also covered with red, yes red, vomit. I could only assume Hailey had downed massive doses of red Kool-Aid before school this morning. So my pretty white and pink maxi dress, well, let’s just say it had seen better days and would probably not see many more days in the future.
So, that was the beginning of the day that I now refer to as “Vomit-a-Geddon”.
That was just the beginning of the day. I hadn’t even made it to my classroom yet. At that point I should’ve just turned around and headed back to my car with the hope that my horrendous luck wouldn’t continue, but no, I did not do that.
Luckily, as a kindergarten teacher I was always prepared to need a change of clothes. I let these kids finger paint for god’s sake. I had a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in the supply closet in my room.
Carefully ducking into the back of the room, I waved at my TA, Amanda, and slowly headed to the closet. The moment I reached the closet I slipped. I don’t know what I slipped in, but it was slimy. My body hit the floor and I slid all the way across the back wall of the room. I pulled coats and backpacks off of the rack all the way down. I fell flat on my butt and yelped out in pain, thus causing the entire class to turn around and stare at me.
Madison Matthews stood up and walked over to me. “Ms. Kingsley, are you alright? What’s on your dress? Is that throw-up, Ms. Kingsley?”
Everything was happening so fast, but as I replay it all in my mind it’s like watching an old black and white movie in slow motion.
Madison’s little hand flew up to her mouth, which caused a flashback to poor little Hailey, and before I knew what was going on, she was puking all over me and the floor. This caused a small chain reaction. In the span of probably ten minutes, Thomas, Ian, Sierra, and Genevieve each puked. Some chose to sit at their desk and vomit, while others did it as they walked back to help me.
All I could think was poor Amanda. I mean obviously I was going to have to go home and she was going to be left to clean up the mess, right? Wrong.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I can’t handle vomit. Anything but vomit,” she squealed as she ran out of the room, letting the door slam behind her.
I was down a TA and had a class chock full of some wonderful smelling vomit, I had to do something. I pulled myself from the vomit covered floor and tried to calm down the poor gagging kids all around me.
Vomit is disgusting – FYI. It really, really is.
I had all of the children go to the front of the class and stand facing the chalkboard. Slipping into the supply closet I grabbed my change of clothes. I pulled my puke and coffee covered dress up over my head and tossed it in the trash. That sucker was never going on this body again.
Thank goodness I had a huge container of handi-wipes in the closet. When I finally stepped back into the classroom, I smelled like a bottle of rubbing alcohol mixed with a little bit of lemon juice. I didn’t care if I smelled like freaking Mr. Clean…at least I was sanitized.
Apparently, before Amanda left she did go to the office and let them know I was experiencing some technical difficulties this morning. When I stepped out of the closet Principal Baldwin was consoling the children at the front of the room and the maintenance guys were cleaning up the vomit. Thank god I wouldn’t have to take care of that too. After what had just happened I wasn’t sure I could’ve handled it.
“Having a good morning, Ms. Kingsley?” Principal Baldwin asked with a devilish smirk on his face.
I really wanted to slap that smirk right off his smug face. That man was the epitome of an asshole. If I didn’t love my job so much, I would’ve told him to kiss off three years ago.
“Just peachy, sir. Thanks for helping me out with the kids and…” I gestured toward the back of the room. “Helping with the clean up. I appreciate it.” I tried to smile at him, but he was slimier than the floor I had just slipped on.
My students were the reason why I continued in to work in this position. They were the entire reason. The money wasn’t great, the hours were long, the school wasn’t in a good district, and the principal was a grade a jerk. But my students were sweethearts and I needed them as much as they needed me.
Each day I would chant the same mantra over and over: “One day you’ll have kids of your own. You won’t have to work for some asshole. You’ll get married and raise your own family.”
That’s what I wanted more than anything. When I was only five years old I lost both of my parents in a fire. We had been such a normal, happy family and then a spark from our Christmas tree one week before Christmas, caught our house on fire. My dad got me out and sat me in the front yard while he went back in to get my mom.
Sitting in the yard I could see the flames shooting out of the windows and I could hear glass breaking. To this day when I hear a glass shatter I fall apart. I never saw either one of my parents again.
The only family member we had was my Aunt Diane. She was my mom’s half-sister and they couldn’t have been more different. Aunt Diane was not a good person, like my mom was. She only agreed to take me in because she found out she would get my mom and dad’s insurance money if she did.
That money bought her and her family a new house and me a small room in their basement. Since the day I lost my parents I’d hoped and dreamed that one day I would feel love and feel like I was wanted. I never felt that after their death.
My aunt never loved me, my uncle always looked at me like he wanted to do horrible things to me, and my cousins acted like I was taking away their family time or something. I think that’s why I always wanted to be a teacher. When I was little I would sit all alone in the basement and play house with my one doll. That poor doll was the only thing that I had from before my family died. I was cradling her in my arms the night my father sat me out in the yard.
Children need to be shown that someone cares for them, that no matter what they are living with at home, they aren’t alone. If they have a bad home life, they could at least come to school and know that their teacher is happy to see them. My students and I had an amazing bond. I loved those kids so much. They made everyday special.
Meeting Mr. Right was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Sure, I’d been on dates throughout the years, but I’d never met anyone with lasting potential. I wanted that white picket fence and that boring suburban life. I wanted that more than anything.
Maybe someday, but I was beginning to think I wasn’t going to be lucky enough to have that dream fulfilled. At almost twenty-six years old, if I didn’t hurry up and get on it, my child-bearing years would be over. God that was a depressing thought.
The rest of the day at work was actually pretty uneventful, in comparison to the morning anyway. All I could think about was getting home and taking a shower, washing my hair, putting on my warm and cuddly fuzzy pajamas and sitting down on my ratty old couch in my junky old apartment to relax.
I really should’ve expected my bad day to carry-on through the evening. I shouldn’t have been surprised in the least when I pulled my old Toyota Camry into the driveway at home and found a sign taped to my door.
Well what do ya know?
Apparently, there was a gas leak in my apartment building today and the whole building was evacuated. This meant that I wouldn’t be allowed back into my apartment until the all-clear was given, which very well might be tomorrow.
Are you kidding me?
Could this day get any worse?
I mean, seriously.
What had I done to deserve this horrible day?
Leaving my car parked in the driveway, I decided to walk down the block to “my” little park. Tonight, instead of curling up under my favorite tree I sat down on a park bench and pulled a book out of my purse. If I couldn’t go home and relax, at least I could sit here and read for a little bit, and maybe see my MM.
Reading had always been my favorite way to relax after a
crappy day. Romance novels made me feel like there was hope left for me to find my Mr. Right. Hope that love at first sight really could happen and that there was someone out there for everybody.
Before long, I was lost in my story and not really even looking for my MM anymore. The book I was reading was about some gorgeous man named Jaxon Daniels, who was tattooed and pierced in all the right places. He was such a sweetheart with his dark hair and bulging muscles. Jaxon immediately fell in love with Loralei. He just knew she was the one for him. That could happen in real life, right? Someone had to have experienced that, or they wouldn’t write so many stories about it, right?
Out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention. I peered up from my book and I saw him.
Holy hell!
This man’s handsomeness got me every damn time. I couldn’t tell if it was the hot romance novel I was reading or the fact that this beautiful man was standing in front of me, but I started to sweat a little. My heart was racing and I could feel the flush creeping up my cheeks. I watched him walk over to an empty picnic table. Bending over, he placed his hands on his knees. Obviously, he’d been running again, because his gray tank top was drenched in sweat and sticking to his six-pack like a glove. He had on black shorts and gray, black, and red running shoes. He was working on catching his breath, and to be honest I was too. When he ran his hands roughly through his dark hair, I so desperately wanted those to be my hands. I was having flashbacks to my dream that morning.
“Come on, Lilly. Get a grip.” I said to myself.
A grip?
Yes, I definitely wanted to get a grip on that gorgeous man standing a few feet away from me. A firm grip.
How long had it been since I’d had sex?
Had it really been that long?
Yes, it had. Like a really, really long time. Like years.
I wanted this man on me, over me, in me, anywhere I could have him. This was insane. I didn’t even know him. I’d only been staring at him every night for a week and fantasizing about him when I went home. I was going to blame the tingles in my lady parts on the book I was reading.
Damn you, Lisa M. Harley for making me all hot and bothered with your gorgeous fictional men!
When I finally got my wits about me, I noticed something. He was staring at me.
Oh my goodness!
He noticed me and I was so embarrassed. Could he tell what I was thinking about him? I just hoped that my face was not showing every feeling that I was having about this hot as hell man right now. That’s when he smiled at me and my whole world was lost. That smile melted me to the core. I was enamored by him.
As he walked toward me, I couldn’t pull my eyes from his. Those blue eyes were burning through me and I thought they could very well be the death of me.
The closer he got, the more I could feel him. I could feel the electricity between us. Why, oh why, did I have to look like this today? Mom jeans, an old faded out t-shirt, sneakers, and my hair…don’t even get me started on my hair today. I sat my book down beside me and ran my hands over my jeans. Then I rubbed the sides of my head to make sure any loose waves were in their place.
“Hi,” MM said in the sexiest voice I’d ever heard in my whole entire life. Not too deep, not too soft. Just absolutely perfect.
“Hi,” I muttered, almost unintelligible. I couldn’t be expected to think at a time like this. I was too sexually charged by this man to experience a coherent thought. Seriously.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked with a chuckle.
Pulling my purse toward me, I stuffed my book inside and then tossed it on the ground at my feet. “No, please. Have a seat.” Could I have sounded any more desperate? Nope. I don’t believe so.
He pulled his tank top up enough to wipe some sweat from his brow. Wow…all I can say is wow. When he pulled it up, he put his six pack on display for me.
Hot damn.
When he dropped his shirt back down, my eyes actually hurt from the loss of the amazing view of his abs.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
How was I supposed to tell him I was reading a romance novel? I didn’t want him to think I was one of those women. You know the kind that read books instead of living lives. Oops, I guess that’s what I was.
“A book,” I responded.
Laughing he said, “I kinda figured that. What kind of book? It’s not a kinky book is it?”
I could feel my cheeks getting red again. “NO! It’s not kinky. It’s a romance novel.”
“In my experience those can be pretty kinky.”
“In your experience? Do you read a lot of romance novels?” I asked.
He laughed, shook his head, and asked, “A little warm out today, isn’t it?”
It was clear that he wanted to change the subject and that was fine by me. “Yeah, uh, I guess.” I sounded like a total moron, but I couldn’t help it. He was doing wicked things to my lady-parts.
“My name is Asher, what’s yours?”
“Lilly. Lilly Kingsley.” I responded.
“Do you live around here, Lilly?”
“I live pretty close. You?” I was proud of myself for being able to almost string together an entire sentence.
“I’m just traveling through for work. I’m actually staying not too far from here. The Mayan. Have you heard of it?”
“Oh, sure. That’s a really nice hotel.” Yep, back to sounding like a complete dork, but how was I supposed to act? I was actually talking to MM. He was talking to me and I was talking back.
Lily, calm the hell down, that’s called a conversation. You are conversing with him. Chill out.
“I guess so, but it’s kinda lonely.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“You know what might make it a little less lonely?”
“What?”
“The company of a beautiful woman at dinner.”
“Well, maybe you can find a beautiful woman somewhere to ask.”
He looked over to me and a sexy smile spread across his luscious lips. “I already did.”
I looked all around and said, “Really? I don’t see anyone else around here.”
There was that killer smile again. “Lilly, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
OH MY GOD!
My head was literally going to explode. What if this man was a traveling serial killer? He could be, right? Preying on some weak woman he met sitting all by herself in a park.
Like he read my mind, he said, “We could meet at the Mayan. Public place equals safe place, right?” He leaned over and tucked a wave that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear. “I promise I’m not a crazed serial killer, Lilly.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I think that’s exactly what a crazed serial killer would say, isn’t it?”
He laughed, “Point taken, ma’am.” Standing up he acted like he was going to walk away. I was so scared that he was going to leave. I couldn’t just let him leave. I knew I was going to agree to dinner, so why didn’t I just say yes?
“YES!” I practically screamed at him. I couldn’t let him get away. “I mean, yes, Asher. I would love to have dinner with you tonight.”
“Whew. You scared me there for a minute. I thought you were going to make me eat all alone again.”
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” I asked with a small smile.
“How about we meet at seven? Does that work for you?”
“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”
“Me either, Lilly. I’m so glad I ran through this park today.”
My stomach did a little nervous flip. “Me too, Asher. Me too.”
Chapter Two~
What the hell was I thinking? I hadn’t thought this through at all. I couldn’t go home and get ready for our date because of the stupid gas leak.
What horrible timing!
What was I supposed to do now?
There was only one thing I could do…call my best friend.
“Morgan’s house
of debauchery, how can I serve you?” Morgan never answered her phone the same way twice. I absolutely adored that crazy girl. We’d been best friends since we were nine years old, and I thanked my lucky stars everyday that she was part of my life.
“I need your help. I have a fashion crisis. Can I come over?” I asked.
I could hear sheets crinkling and under her breath, I heard Morgan say, “Wake up, sleepyhead. Time for you to go home. I’m needed by someone much more important than you are.”
Then I heard her bed partner say, “But baby, we only did it twice. I never leave before the third time. It’s like a rule.” I could hear him kissing her. I was going to be sick.
“Remember me? The best friend in need of your assistance,” I asked.
“Give me thirty minutes,” she moaned. “Damn, better give me an hour. Be here in an hour and I’ll help with whatever ails ya.”
“Thanks, Morgan. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
Then I heard her tell her latest boy-toy, “You better hurry it up, buddy. You got thirty minutes to satisfy me.”
He responded with, “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.” Then the laughing ensued and I had to hang up before I vomited. This day was apparently all about the vomit.
I stopped by the local coffee shop and picked up a frozen coffee drink before heading over to Morgan’s place. As I was walking up the steps of her beautiful old colonial home, I met her latest fling. They were making out on the porch and he was whimpering something about “the best he ever had”. My friend definitely got around. She loved men and she had no problem with everyone knowing it. She was standing on her front porch in a little silky hot pink shorty robe, her long blonde curls falling all around her, making out with a man with a red mohawk and more piercings than I could count. She had her legs wrapped around his waist and he was grinding his hips into hers. She was definitely not shy.
“Lilly! My Lilly Bug is here!” She yelled as she dropped out of the grasp of the mohawk man and ran toward me. She threw her arms around my neck and just about knocked me off the porch.
“Calm down!” I tried in vain to pry her off of me.
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