Chapter Seven – Cici

“Right.” I wipe the perspiration away from my forehead, trying desperately to stop the headache from forming. Whoever thinks this is an easy job is an idiot. Some days it’s impossible. “Okay, so homework.” I had this all planned out, but now that I’m not feeling one hundred percent, my mind has gone completely blank. “Volcanoes… yes, that’s it. I want you to… create a flyer about everything that we’ve learned.”

“What size, Miss?” one of the most irritating kids, Tyler, calls out to me.

“Yeah, and what do we need to include in it? I don’t remember anything,” Pete joins in.

“Does it need to have a picture on it, or is it only writing? One side or two?”

This is why eight and nine year olds are such hard work. They’re at a really awkward age where they aren’t quite teenagers, so the hormones aren’t there yet, but they’re getting a sense of self awareness. They understand now that they can have their own opinions, and they exercise the right to practice that a lot. With attitude as well. And the dramas… oh my God, the dramas. Being a teacher really isn’t just about the teaching. There’s so much more to just communicating knowledge. There’s also the task of dealing with their friendship dramas. I don’t remember ever having so many dramas when I was that age. But maybe we did. I guess Annabelle might have.

Teachers learn how to pass information on, that’s part of the training, but the dramas are something else. That’s something you need to learn as you go along. The same with the attitude. None of the manuals cover that.

If I didn’t have such a throbbing pain in my head, maybe I’d be able to come up with a witty reply, but right now I’m watching the clock tick down, waiting for the end of the day. It’s only Tuesday and I’m already mad keen for the end of the week to roll around. Thankfully, I don’t have any plans this weekend, no stressful weddings on Saturday to take up all my free time, so I can just relax and make myself feel better.

“You know what?” I give up and toss my hands in the air. “I want you to use your imagination. Do what you want with it, as long as it includes everything that you can remember, that’s fine by me.”

I brace myself, expecting another million questions to fly my way despite the fact that I’ve just told them to do what they want, but thankfully the bell rings out signaling the end of the day. However much this lot want to wind me up, getting the hell out of here is more of a priority. Thank God, because I include myself in that. As the familiar babble of excitement rises up while they get out of their seats, I flop back in my chair, relieved. I’ve been shattered ever since the wedding, and it doesn’t help that I’ve struggled to sleep. The whole thing has had me on edge. Even if it was just a moment of fun, me succumbing to intense chemistry and blowing off some steam, I still feel a little strange about it. I am not the one night stand type and I dint think I ever would be.

Once my class is empty, I tug out my cell phone to check any communication I’ve had during the day. Almost immediately, I’m struck by two text messages from a number that I never thought I would hear from. I couldn’t even work out why he’d give it to me when it wasn’t supposed to be more than one night, but I went with it. And now… well, now I’m even more confused because despite all the odds being stacked against us, he’s text me.

‘Hey there sexy teacher, how is your week? I’ve been thinking about you. W x’

‘What I mean by thinking about you is that mini skirt and heels in the classroom… W x’

I chuckle to myself, imagining him sitting there and typing this out. He must be working, he pretty much told me that he’s a workaholic, but it’s much more difficult for me to imagine him at work. Everyone knows what a classroom looks like, pretty much everyone has been inside one, but I haven’t ever been in a police station, much less an office that’s all based in drugs. I can picture images on the wall with string tied between each one, linking them together like they do on TV while men in suits with their ties pulled lose pace the room… but I’m sure it isn’t like that really. I’m sure crime and punishment isn’t reflected fairly in the media. Probably.

‘Ooh, it’s been a long day. My feet are killing from the heels, but it’s all worth it just to look like something out of a male fantasy.’ I type rapidly, smiling to myself. This flirting things is fun and helping with the head ache! ‘I’m sure you’re topless while arresting people with those sexy, thick handcuffs… am I right? C x’

Very surprisingly, I get a reply right away. It’s weird to think of him being that keen to text me back.

‘Oh yeah, sometimes in between arrests we need to do strip o grams. All part and parcel of it. W x’

The day rolls off my shoulders in waves. The kids and all the crap that comes with them simply vanishes as I remember that warm glow that came with being with Will. If I’m honest with myself, it wasn’t just the sexual chemistry that I liked with him… he was good company as well. I don’t want to get my hopes too high, but just maybe there’s something there. It’s possible, isn’t it? Just as I’m about to reply, I get a text to confirm that.

‘Would you like to go on a date with me sometime? W x’

So sharp, so direct, so sexy. Will isn’t messing around and I like that. I don’t imagine him being the sort of man that usually takes women out on dates, but something about me must have sparked a desire in him. If I ever got anything at all, which I didn’t think I would, I expected a booty call type thing. Never a date. But he’s asked, which must mean he wants to. That seriously intrigues me. I want to know what this could be…

“Hey, Cici!” my friend, and fellow teacher, Michelle, calls out to me. “I didn’t get to catch you yesterday.” She swans into the classroom, taking over it without even trying. Just like she does every room she goes into, even if it’s full. She just has this aura about her that I admire and envy in equal measures. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” I drop my cell phone on my desk, vowing to message Will back afterwards. “How about you?”

“Urgh, you know how it is.” She rolls her eyes. “These kids are brats. Although my class isn’t as bad as yours.” She narrows her eyes, zoning in on me. “They look like they’ve put you through the ringer today.”

“Erm, thanks.” I chuckle mirthlessly. I don’t even want to know how bad I look right now.

“I have been so looking forward to seeing you! How was the debacle of Annabelle’s wedding?”

My heart leaps up into my mouth. The wedding equals Will in my mind. None of the rest of it even matters. I haven’t been able to talk about it yet, but with Michelle, finally I can. She’ll love this tale.

“Oh, well, Annabelle was a right diva, as to be expected. She got wasted, argued with the groom moments after getting married, and created a massive scene. Standard Annabelle stuff.” Michelle might not have been there through all the school but she knows enough about it all, and she’s met her now. “But that’s not the gossip.”

“It isn’t?” She leans closer to me, her eyes lighting up at the thought of gossip. “So, what is?”

I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep the giant smile inside, but the heat that creeps up through my cheeks gives me away regardless. Michelle can tell that the news is hug. “I… met someone.”

“You did?” she squeals this a little too loud, so she immediately lowers her voice to a whisper. “You did?”

I nod, glad to actually have some good news for once. It’s been ages since I’ve been able to say anything good about my love life. It’s ridiculous. “Yeah, I did. Someone incredibly sexy… and good in bed too.”

“You did not.” She really can’t believe me. “There’s no way that you did.”

“Oh, I sure did.” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully. “And he’s just messaged me and asked me out on a date.”

“No way! That’s like, almost unheard of. Who is the lucky guy? Have I met him before?”

“This isn’t the biggest of towns, you might well know him.” It isn’t the sort of place where everyone knows everyone else, I didn’t know Will before the weekend, but Michelle is much more social than I am. She seems to at least know the names and faces of everyone. “He works for the police.”

“He’s a cop?” Michelle looks impressed. “Now that is sexy.”

“Really? I didn’t know that police officers were your thing.”

“Honey, any man in uniform is my thing. So, who is he?”

“Will Yoker.” Even saying his name fills my chest with a warmth. “He works for the DEA.” I drag my eyes up to look at Michelle and immediately I’m struck by the expression of recognition. “You know him?”

She nods slowly. “Yes, I do. I don’t know him personally, but one of the girls I do Yoga with does. Actually, a couple of them do.” This information stings. It’s obvious that he isn’t the happy ever after guy, and that he has a string of sexual conquests, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear about them. “I’m sorry, girl, but he’s a player.”

“He asked me out on a date though. Don’t you think that means something?”

She shakes her head, giving me a sympathetic look. “Trust me, I’ve fallen for play boys before. I thought that they were into me and that I’d be the one to change them and I just ended up getting crushed.” She rests her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

My blood runs ice cold, all of a sudden, all the good feeling that I’ve had evaporates. I don’t want to think of myself as the naïve idiot who’s delving into something head first, blatantly about to end up hurt, but that might well be what’s about to happen here. Maybe because it’s been so long, I’ve allowed myself to be blinded to the truth. There’s a very good chance that this isn’t what I so desperately want it to be…

So, why do I still want it? Why does my heart still yearn for the date?

“But at least you had some fun, right?” Michelle continues with a smile. “At least you got back up on the horse, so to speak. Perhaps now it’s time to really think about dating again, what do you think?” She checks her watch before I can answer. “Oh God, I have to go, but I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, okay?”

As she flies from the room in a flurry, I stare at my cell phone as if it’s the enemy. I need to give Will an answer, I can’t keep him hanging on any longer, but I don’t know what I want the answer to be. My heart desperately wants to say yes, it wants to believe that this might turn out to be everything that I hope and more, it wants to think that I can be the girl who gets it all, despite all the warnings. But my brain disagrees. It wants to run in the opposite direction where I’m safe and I won’t get destroyed along the way.

Head or heart? Heart or head?

Tentatively, I pick up my cell phone and I breathe in deep. Then I type out the answer that I so desperately hope will end up being the right one.

‘Sure thing, how does Friday night sound? C x'