But it wasn’t Mr. Roberts standing there.
No, standing in front of me was Connor Tomlinson.
Oh, how the years looked great on him. His long, blond hair was now cut short, and his beige dress shirt, black tie and dark navy jeans showcased his well-toned body. How old is he now, I wondered. I’m seventeen, so he’s … twenty-four? Oh my God, Connor is a twenty-four-year-old man.
He was all man now.
He dropped the folders onto the desk and glanced up, meeting my eyes. He blinked, then glanced down quickly.
“What are you doing?” Amber called out to me.
Everyone turned to look at me, so I had no other choice but to walk away. When I got to the desk and took my seat, I shoved my letter into my messenger bag angrily.
He left me. He should have stayed away.
“Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said, pulling out my notebook and distracting myself from her wondering stare. Amber didn’t know about Connor or the secret life my dad lived. No one knew… except Connor.
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she pressed.
“I’m fine,” I said softly, but adamantly. “I’m just a little shocked not to see our regular teacher up there.”
“Yeah, I know, but hey, subs are easy.” She smiled and relaxed in her seat.
Connor walked towards the students, his eyes landing on me for a second before he scanned the room. My heart beat erratically.
“Class, I have some bad news.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Mr. Roberts will not be returning for the rest of the year. His cancer has returned, so he’s taking the time off to battle the awful disease.” He glanced at me, his gaze uncertain before he quickly looked away again. My heart lurched in my chest.
“A couple of the admins are visiting him later this week, so if any of you would like to send him something, please drop it off with me and I’ll make sure he receives it.” He nodded slightly before turning back to his desk. Picking up a stack of papers, he handed them to a female student who was seated in one of the front desks.
When he walked to the chalkboard and wrote down his name, phone number and email, I had to swallow the lump in my throat as a ping of jealousy formed. Now all the girls in our class had access to him in such a private way, anytime they felt like it.
“You can address me as Mr. Tomlinson, but Connor works just as well." He angled his head and pointed behind him. "That’s all my contact info. I have an open policy with my students, so if you need help with an assignment, or you’re unable to attend class, just shoot me a text. "
His gaze fell on me again. His eyes blazed with every second that passed as if he were trying to confess something to me, dying for my understanding. When he finally looked away and explained the first page of the syllabus, I zoned out. My cheeks were hot and my body coiled with need and anger. I needed to be alone with him. I wanted answers.
"God, our sub is hot, like really hot. Are you looking at him? Because I can’t seem to look away or think straight," Amber whispered, staring ahead at Connor. “I’m going to call him with a made up problem about our homework just to hear how he sounds on the phone. And from the look of all the drooling girls in this room, I’d say he's going to get a lot of calls tonight." She smiledwickedly.
Without thinking, I raised my hand to get his attention. "Mr. Tomlinson," I interrupted, “May I have a moment outside? There's a personal matter I need to discuss with you."
Amber gasped.
He glanced up from the paper in his hand slowly and blinked in surprise. "Are you able to wait until after class?" he asked, his eyes slanted slightly.
Rejection.
I swallowed down my hurt. "Yes, it can wait." I hung my head and pretended to read the syllabus as all eyes remained on me.
"Uh, what the hell was that?" Amber hissed in a whisper, turning to face me.
I shook my head, refusing to answer her.
“What is going on with you today?”
I pretended not to hear her as I continued to look at the syllabus.
Connor continued reading and explaining the syllabus, glancing my way often. He picked up another stack of papers and handed them to a male student. “This is your homework assignment. Read it over and I’ll answer any questions after I talk to Mrs. Wakefield.”
I stood and followed him to the door. He opened it, holding the door for me, and we walk outside together.
Connor stood as far away as possible from me, waiting for me to speak first.
“When did you get back?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“A while ago,” he answered softly.
“Were you ever going to let me know?”