HEADMASTER

by Jaimie Roberts

  “Oh, yes,” he answers with his deep, roguish, Scottish accent.

  Oh my!

  “Do you dunk?”

  My eyes widen. “Do I what?” I ask, thinking he said something else.

  He laughs, like he’s just realised why I’m shocked. “Do you dunk your biscuits?”

  “Oh,” I answer, chuckling with embarrassment. Maybe I heard what I thought I did because it’s subconsciously what I want to hear. “Yes. I dunk too.”

  “Especially chips in strawberry milkshake.”

  “Definitely chips in strawberry milkshake,” I reply with a nod.

  He shakes his head like he still can’t believe I do that. “What?” I ask, trying to look offended. “Like you never have any strange quirks. I bet you eat haggis.” I shiver at the thought.

  “Have you ever tried haggis?” His eyebrow quirks in amusement.

  “No, actually.”

  “Never knock something unless you’ve tried it.”

  Knowing I practically said the same thing to him about my chips and strawberry milkshake fetish, I answer, “Touché.”

  He smiles at that. It’s a full-blown, beaming, melt-your-heart smile. In the brief silence, my heart rate kicks up a notch. The way he looks at me… My goodness, it’s no wonder all the women—young and old—in my school are lusting after him.

  “If you could have any super power, what would it be?” Totally out of the left field, but it was the quickest thing I could think to ask to get rid of this tension I feel between us. It’s probably just me and this stupid school girl crush I have on him, but I think I feel something more between us.

  At first it looks as though Easton’s taken aback by my question. It was completely thrown in there. But like a super trooper, he looks away, a little crinkle forming on his forehead as he’s deep in thought.

  “I think I would like to be invisible. You could play lots of tricks on people and get lots of enjoyment out of it.”

  I imagine for a moment what that would be like and giggle in thought. You certainly could have fun. Simply hiding objects that were once there, or moving things in the air and scaring the shit out of people. It would be hilarious.

  “What about you?”

  Snapping from my thoughts, I say, “I would like to teleport. Can you imagine the places you could visit without having to pay for plane fares?”

  He smiles knowingly. “Like Mauritius of New York.”

  I nod my head. “Exactly.”

  “You wouldn’t want to read people’s minds, for instance?”

  I vehemently shake my head, although—thinking about it—I would love to know what Easton was thinking right about now. “No way. Can you imagine if you could? You’d have no friends and the world would be a very lonely place.”

  Easton sips his tea, and then says, “I highly doubt that. I’m sure no-one would say anything bad about you.”

  There he goes again. And this time, I can’t seem to look away when he locks those intense eyes on mine.

  “It’s lovely,” he suddenly says.

  “What?”

  He holds his mug up. “The tea.”

  “Oh.” I chuckle at myself. “Thanks.”

  Talking with Easton has become my new favourite past-time. In fact, I’m so engrossed in our conversation, that I completely forget the time until I hear a noise outside and realise it’s my mum back from work.

  “Oh shit.” My heart rate picks up. I’m so nervous and frankly worried for Easton.

  “What’s the matter?” Easton asks, looking towards the door.

  “It’s my mum. She’s home from work. Now she’s going to see you here and ask you loads of questions. Sorry.”

  Dinner

  He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. “I’m looking forward to meeting the woman who raised such an extra-ordinary woman.”

  My tongue gets stuck in my mouth as I gaze at him. Doesn’t he realise the things that come out of his mouth make my insides turn to mush? Jeez, I’m never going to sleep tonight.

  “Sasha?” My mum calls as she walks through. At least she remembered my new name.

  “Hi, Mum!” I shout back and watch as she walks through, shutting the door behind her. She hasn’t looked our way yet, but when she does I know there will be questions. Lots of them. I’ve never ever brought a boy home before, so I’m extra nervous about how she’ll react. After everything that’s happened she’s extremely protective over me. And I can hardly blame her.

  “God, work was shit tod—” she turns, noticing Easton sitting beside me with a grin on his face. “Oh my,” she says, stumbling over her words.

  Yep. She’s caught the Easton bug too.

  Like the pro that he is, Easton stands up and extends his hand out to her. “Hi, Ms Blakely. So nice to meet you. I’m Easton.”

  She frowns a moment as she shakes his hand, and then instant recognition crosses her face. “Oh, the man from the bar,” she sings in a teasing tone. It must have been his accent that gave it away.

  Easton starts laughing and then turns to me. “So your mum knows about the man from the bar, huh?”

  My cheeks immediately heat making Easton grin even further. Yeah, thanks for making me feel awkward, buddy. I shake my head on a laugh and say, “Yes, my mum knows about the man from the bar.”

  “Ah, but does she know who Brett the barman is?”

  I start chuckling, as my mother asks. “Brett the barman?”

  “It’s a private joke,” I explain. “Easton has—of course—met Brett too.”

  My mum’s cheeks are rosy from the cold as she rubs her hands together. “I do love Brett. Great sense for fashion. I suppose these asexual men are these days.”

  I start laughing hard. “I think you mean bisexual. There’s no way Brett is asexual.” I think about all the times I’ve caught him ogling men and women alike. It’s been mostly men, though.

  “He’s bisexual?” Easton asks, giving me a knowing look. “I thought he was gay.”

  “He is bisexual,” I answer, “but I think he prefers men over women as a general rule.” I swear I spot a touch of aggravation on Easton’s face. Surely he’s not jealous? “We’re just friends,” I blurt before remembering that Easton might not care, and I really don’t have to explain myself.

  A beautiful smile touches Easton’s lips lighting my face in flames. I think he can sense that we’re playing this honesty game again, but why we’re doing it still, I have no idea.

  My mum, not missing a beat says, “So, Easton, do you have any designs on my daughter?”

  “Mum!” I screech, making Easton laugh.

  “There’s no beating around the bush with you, is there, Ms Blakely?”

  After setting her handbag down and taking off her coat, my mum joins us at the table with a smile. “Not when it comes to my daughter. And, please, call me Laura. Ms Blakely makes me feel old.”

  Easton, seeming unfazed by her question, answers, “I think your daughter is extremely special. She’s intelligent, witty, thoughtful, and fun to be around. I enjoy every moment we spend together. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.”

  I sit, dumbfounded as Easton smiles at me. I can tell my mum’s watching the exchange between us.

  “That’s enough for me,” my mum says, breaking my trance. I know he didn’t answer the question, but how can he? If she knew who he really is, then I doubt she’d be as cosy about him being here as she seems to be now.

  When I see my mother getting up, I remember to ask. “Sorry, Mum. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  She shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. In fact, I think I’ll start on dinner. I’m starving.”

  I start to get up. “I can start on dinner. You’ve been at work all day.”

  “No,” she answers, cutting me off. “Stay and talk with Easton.” She turns her head to him. “You’ll be staying for dinner, won’t you?”

  Easton looks to me first before smiling up at my mother. “It would be an honour.”

 
“Great!” she chimes, offering me a wink. I shake my head, knowing what that wink means. She approves and obviously wants to keep Easton and I together.

  Once she disappears into the kitchen, I turn to Easton. “I’m sorry about that.”

  He chuckles. “No need to be. I already love your mother. Straight to the point and no messing.”

  I shake my head on a laugh. “I know, but that can’t have been easy for you. She still knows you as the guy I met at the bar rather than as my head teacher. If she knew—”

  “Sasha, don’t sweat it. We’re friends. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

  I want to ask, “Aren’t we?” but the words get stuck in my mouth. I’m enjoying this time with him, and I don’t want it to become awkward. So, instead, I smile, excuse myself, and ask my mother if she needs any help in the kitchen.

  “You told me he was handsome, but that guy … wow. He looks too good to be true.”

  If only she knew.

  “Yeah, he’s quite the catch.”

  She squints at me not missing a thing. “Why do I detect a “but” in there somewhere? Is he really too good to be true? What’s wrong with him? Does he pick his nose or something?”

  I start laughing. “No, he’s perfect. Really perfect. I’m just taking my time with him. For now we’re friends.” I hate lying to my mum, but it’s as close to the truth I can get.

  “Friends, huh?” she asks, not missing a thing. “The way you two look at each other isn’t friend territory. I saw that in the way he looked at you when he found out Brett liked women too. But,” she says, coming closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I can understand your hesitancy. You want to make sure and I think it’s a very wise and mature choice for someone your age. When I was eighteen, I dove in head first and asked questions later.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I look away. “I really like him,” I explain, being honest. “I just want to—”

  “I know,” Mum says softly, interrupting me. “You’re just protecting your heart. I think I would too over a man who looks as gorgeous as he.” When I shake my head on a laugh, she starts giggling before she shoos me. “Now get, I have food to cook. I take it that Easton isn’t allergic to anything? Does he like chicken?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but I’ll go ask.”

  I find out that Easton does like chicken. I also find out that he’s allergic to shellfish. “Ugh,” I say in distaste. “We don’t eat that muck in our house, so you’re safe.”

  He starts to laugh as I wander back to the kitchen to tell my mum. I think to myself as I’m trailing back and forth how strange a situation this is. I’m getting my knickers in a twist over Easton and I, and the position we’re in, and yet he always looks as cool as a cucumber.

  “Would you like a drink of anything?” I ask, before I sit. “We have beer and wine.”

  Easton shakes his head on a smile. “No, thanks. I have to ride the motorbike home.”

  “Of course. Sorry,” I answer chastising myself. I certainly don’t want Easton injuring himself.

  “You seem tense,” he observes.

  I start to laugh. “I guess I don’t know how to act. I just find this whole thing bizarre.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “No,” I answer, a little too enthusiastically. I see his eyes widening making me smile. I relax my shoulders on a sigh. “I would like you to stay.”

  “Good,” he replies, getting up. “I’m just going to ask your mum if she needs help.”

  I watch as he wanders towards the kitchen, and I can’t help but stare at one particular area of his anatomy as he walks. My goodness his arse looks squeezable.

  As he disappears from sight, I shake my head and wait for him to come back, but he never does. I hear conversation and after a few minutes there’s lots of laughter and even music playing. Too curious for my own good, I get up as the lyrics of “Stamina” by Shia play in my ears, and walk towards the kitchen. There I find boiling potatoes on the stove and Easton cutting up some carrots.

  “Do you want a drink?” My mum asks.

  Shaking my head from my stupor, I walk towards the fridge. “I’ll just grab some water. Are you sure you don’t want anything, Easton?”

  He turns, brandishing a wolfish grin. “I’m okay, thanks.”

  Once he turns to get back to his job at hand, my mum looks over to me raising her eyebrow in amusement. I know that look. She likes him.

  With my water in hand, I ask one more time if I’m needed in the kitchen, but I’m quickly shooed out by both of them this time. I leave to take my spot in the living room, but every now and then I hear laughter coming from the kitchen. As time goes on, I start to smell the food and it makes my stomach growl.

  “Dinner’s ready,” my mum sings emerging from the kitchen with a couple of plates. Easton follows after with a plate of his own.

  As I take my seat at the table, I look down at the chicken, boiled potatoes, carrots and gravy, and my mouth starts to salivate. “This looks delicious.” I inhale the smell and close my eyes.

  “Easton knows how to cook. He gave me some great pointers on how to season everything.”

  Easton shrugs as he picks his knife and fork up. “I always loved cooking at home. My mum loves cooking too, but no one ever bothered to help her in the family. I guess I was the only one who was interested.”

  “I bet you mum misses you,” I say between bites.

  “I think she misses my cooking more,” he jokes.

  “Oh, I bet that’s not true,” my mum says, smiling. “I bet she misses you like crazy. Have you visited since being here?”

  He shakes his head on a bite of food. “Not yet, but I’m planning to for Christmas. My brother visits from time to time, but other than that I haven’t seen them since I left a couple of months ago.”

  “I think it’s so brave of you,” my mum says, making both Easton and I look her way. “You’re so young and on your own. You’ve moved halfway across the country to a place where you have no family and friends. I think it’s extremely courageous.”

  My mother’s right. I had never thought about that until now. Surely he must have felt terribly lonely when he got here. Maybe he still is.

  “It was an opportunity not to be missed. I’m the kind of person who likes to—”

  “Carpe diem,” my mother replies on a smile.

  Easton chuckles. “Exactly. Never live life with regret. I would rather seize the chance and realise it wasn’t for me than wonder for the rest of my life if I had lost an opportunity.”

  “That’s a great way to look at it,” I muse. “I suppose it’s too soon to tell whether your decision to come here was a good one or not.” I tilt my head slightly waiting for his answer.

  “So far I’m enjoying it. I’ve met some really nice people.”

  “What do you do?” My mum asks, making me stop chewing. My heart sinks when his eyes flit to me first before answering.

  “I’m in teaching,” he answers, not elaborating.

  “What a fantastic vocation. What do you teach?”

  He shrugs. I can tell this conversation’s getting him uncomfortable. “All sorts really, but I’m a big fan of poetry.”

  “Sasha’s dabbled from time to time. She has a flare with words.” My mum smiles, but I’m just relieved that she’s off the subject of what Easton does for a living.

  “I would like to see them one day,” he answers, fixing his eyes on mine again.

  “It’s nothing great. Just a couple of poems.” I avert my eyes because it’s getting harder and harder not to lean over and kiss this man.

  “You’re so modest,” my mother chimes on a chuckle. “They’re brilliant. I keep telling her to write more, but she won’t listen to me.”

  My face heats at the compliment and I notice Easton smiling. “She should. You should always do what you’re good at.”

  He smirks sending my pulse through the roof again. Luckily, my mum starts asking questions about Edinburgh, an
d for a while the conversation was flowing even well after dinner. It’s only when Easton checks the time on his watch that I do the same. It’s after nine. Shit, where has the time gone?

  “I best go,” he says, getting up. “Thank you so much for dinner, Laura. The food and the company were second to none.”

  My mother and I both get up together. “It was my pleasure, Easton. You must come for dinner again some time.”

  “I will hold you to that,” he jokes, making my mother chuckle. She looks from Easton to me, and then excuses herself. “Take care, Easton. I’m sure Sasha won’t mind seeing you out.” She winks at me before leaving the front room.

  Once out of earshot, I say, “I’m sorry about that. Again. My mother obviously has no filter.”

  Laughing, Easton makes his way towards the door. “That’s okay. I think your mum’s brilliant.”

  I think you’re brilliant.

  With his hand on the door, he turns opening it before looking back at me. “I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you. The food was amazing. I think I need to come round yours for dinner from now on.”

  Closing my eyes, I only realise what I’ve just said. “Shit. Sorry. It looks like I have no filter too.”

  Easton starts laughing. “You have to stop beating yourself up over everything you say. You’re being honest. I like that. If I’m being honest, there is nothing I would like more than to have you come to my place for dinner. But—”

  “That can never happen,” I say, answering for him.

  He sighs. I’m sure I see disappointment in his eyes. “Unfortunately not.”

  Easton smiles sadly before suddenly leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. It’s so unexpected that I catch my breath. Easton notices, lingering close to my cheek a bit longer than he should. Everything about him from the feel of his breath on my skin to his smell is making me lose my mind. In that split second, I know that if I turn my head towards him, I’ll lose myself. I can’t get close to this man—no matter how badly my heart and my body want to.

  “See you tomorrow, Easton,” I finally manage to say, breaking whatever this is between us. I know the moment he pulls away, the knowing soft smile encasing his lips.