Instead of You(12)

I could feel people staring at me, their gazes tingling all over my skin, their whispers burning in my ears.

But this was different. There were way more whispers than I had anticipated, and the air felt almost electric. Something more was going on.

I pushed some hair behind my ear and glanced up.

Mr. White was at the front of the room.

With Hayes.

Hayes had his back to me, hands braced on his hips, and he was listening to Mr. White.

It all started to make sense. Well, not all of it. I had no idea what he was doing there, but it explained why the room was absolutely supercharged.

He was wearing a white cotton shirt, like my dad wore to work, but his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. My eyes travelled down his arms, noticing every bulge in his forearms and the strength in his fingers as they gripped his waist. He wore caramel-colored pants and a dark belt. The fit of the shirt barely contained the breadth of his shoulders, stretching around his biceps.

I hated the fact that my pulse raced from just looking at him.

I didn't know what he was doing there, but I was going to find out.

I walked to the front of the room, the whispers around me silencing instantly.

"Hayes?" I hated the way I said his name. It was hopeful and frail.

He turned when he heard me, and I was not prepared for what I saw. Hayes's hair had always been longer than a typical "man's" hairstyle. It was long enough to tuck behind his ears, but it was usually down, falling around his face until he swept it back with one hand, only to have it fall back down again.

Today it was pulled back into a neat-enough short ponytail. It had been years since that much of his face was on display for me to admire, and he'd changed a lot. His face was fuller, only emphasized by the ticking in his jaw as he clenched it. I noticed his eyes do a quick scan of my body, so I was hoping he didn't notice me take in a sharp breath at the sight of him.

His cheekbones were broad; his jaw wider than I could remember. Perhaps it looked bigger with the stubble covering it. All the dark stubble only made his light pink lips stand out, which explained why my eyes were drawn right to them. Sometime in the last two years, Hayes had gone from being the boy I remembered growing up with to a man I couldn't take my eyes off of.

When our gazes finally met, his eyes looked sad. The difference between his sad eyes and everyone else's was that his eyes weren't sad for me. They looked sad all on their own. And that made my hand itch to reach up to his face, to try to comfort him, do anything to make him look less broken.

"Miss Harris, I'm glad you're here a few minutes early," Mr. White said, pulling my attention from Hayes. "We should have a short discussion."

"What do you mean?"

"Mr. Wallace is going to be taking this class over. He'll be your teacher for the remainder of the school year." My heart, which had previously been racing, stopped suddenly. Halted. "This has all come together very quickly, and although we know this isn't the optimal situation, it's the only solution we found suitable."

"You're my teacher?" I asked Hayes, my voice shaky and weak. It was then I noticed the red tie around his neck. It wasn't tied terribly tight, loose enough that I could still see down the collar of his shirt. I spied his pulse pounding through the skin of his neck.

"Mrs. Anderson and Mr. White were kind enough to find room for me here. I need to finish my degree, but I can't go back to school just yet."

No, he really couldn't. Mrs. Wallace was a mess. I immediately felt terrible that I hadn't asked Hayes about school since he'd been home. I just assumed he was taking some time off, opting to stay in town to care for his mother. The decision to continue his schooling must have been a difficult one and I hated myself for not thinking about all the hurdles he'd been jumping.         

     



 

The truth was, I'd been avoiding him. My mind was jumbled. I was constantly dealing with the sadness of losing Cory and the shame of feeling like I'd been given some sort of sick and twisted second chance. I hated myself most of the time. And I seriously hated myself whenever I remembered the way it felt to wake up in Hayes's bed, and to feel his arms wrap around me.

Not to mention, for two years I'd been thinking about his lips pressed against mine.

So, I'd been avoiding him. And myself. And everything that didn't help me erase the thoughts that were drowning me.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he said quickly when I didn't reply. "It all happened so fast and I just found out yesterday."

I'm a shitty person.

"Hayes, don't apologize, please. I'm just surprised."

Mr. White cleared his throat. "I know there will have to be adjustments, and we're all kind of winging this, but it's still important to establish that Mr. Wallace is a teacher when he's in this building, Miss Harris. So, let's just be careful and make sure you're addressing him as Mr. Wallace."

"Oh," I said quickly. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Mr. White. Mr. Wallace." I met his eyes when I said his name and I watched that muscle in his jaw tick again.

After a moment thick with so much tension it felt like a rubber band, stretched so thin it would snap at any moment, stinging and snapping against my skin, I turned and went back to my desk.

As I walked through the room, I was sure everyone could hear my heartbeat pounding, loud like a bass drum, thumping wildly.

"Okay, class," Mr. White said a few seconds after the bell rang. "Quiet down." He waited a few moments for everyone to settle in their desks and for the whispers to die down. Hayes was four years ahead of Cory and me, so the last time we were all in the same school was when I was in first grade. That was not to say that people in my grade didn't know who he was; especially the female demographic. Hayes was practically high school legend. Him and his Mustang. Anyone who had a slightly older brother or sister had a pretty good idea of who Hayes was, and who his little brother was, too. "Class, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Wallace. Some of you may already be aware of the fact that Mr. Wallace, here, is the brother of our recently deceased student and friend, Cory. And although this is a very sensitive situation, I wanted to head any rumors off." His eyes did a sweep of the room, landing quickly but effectively on every student in the class. "He will be your acting teacher for the rest of the term. He is completing the last requirement for his teaching degree, and due to unforeseen circumstances, it must be completed here, in our classroom."

At his words, a few whispers flitted through the room. Mr. White cleared his throat again, silencing the class once more.

"I will be here to supervise, but all questions, concerns, and communications about the course should go to Mr. Wallace first."

With that, Mr. White stepped aside and swung an arm out to Hayes.

"Thank you, Mr. White," Hayes said first, giving Mr. White a tiny, unenthused smile. "I'm really glad to be here," he said, turning to the class. "As Mr. White mentioned, I am Cory's older brother." A somber silence fell over the room, but Hayes went on. "I recognize a few of you, but I'm glad I'll get the chance to get to know you all a little better. I've been at Central Florida University for the last four years. I've got my bachelor's degree in history, and as Mr. White mentioned, I'm working on the last piece of my master's degree and teaching license. At the end of this semester, I'll be a licensed high school history teacher. So, you'll all be learning along with me." He gave a nervous laugh, and the class responded with their own laughter. I couldn't help the tiny smile that pulled at my lips. Then, suddenly, a new emotion crept through me-pride. Hayes had gone off and seemingly conquered the world.

"So, it looks as though we are going to spend the first part of the semester covering the Second World War," Hayes said, and I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he said the words, even though a groan erupted from the students.

I spent the next hour watching Hayes in a whole new light. He wasn't the quiet, sullen guy I'd always been around. He was sure of himself, he was smart, and he was eager to teach all of us. It was refreshing and new, and totally distracting from everything that had plagued me all day long. The only thing that wasn't different was the pull I felt to him. If anything, watching him as a capable man only made him that much more attractive. So, it was no hardship to sit in that room for an hour, my eyes glued to his every movement, every gesture, and every single part of him.         

     



 

The worst part was, however, that even though my eyes were glued to him, his eyes never once returned to me.

When the final bell of the day rang out, I practically ran for the door. I didn't stop to wait for Holly or Becca, I did nothing except make my way to the bus that would take me home, find an empty seat, curl into the window again, and try to figure out how I was going to finish the year having to look at Hayes every single day.



When I made it home, an empty house greeted me and I was relieved. I needed a little time to decompress, to fool myself into thinking I could handle having Hayes as my history teacher for the rest of the year.

The selfish part of me, which I had realized was a much larger part of me than I had known, was hoping Hayes would leave town soon. That he'd disappear into the same oblivion he had four years ago and all the confusing feelings would disappear, allowing me to mourn my boyfriend without the distraction of him. I kept telling myself that as soon as Hayes left, all the confusing feelings would disappear and I'd be able to see the truth again, I'd be able to remember how much I liked being with Cory and how content I'd been with him.