“SO EXPLAIN TO ME again, why you’re hosting a get together with people you have to see on a daily basis?”
“Because, as principal I have to show my support. And to support, I host get-togethers so staff can come together outside of a work setting and mingle. Share ideas, stress concerns. It’s a more laid back atmosphere.”
Everything that came out of her mouth sounded horrible. No way would I want to hang out with coworkers outside of work. I see them enough. Especially stuffy, old teachers. I pick up a box of ho-ho’s and toss them in the cart. Tessa smiles at me, approving my choice. When Agnes turns her head to reach for a box of Triscuits, I grab a bag of Oreo cookies and toss them too in the cart. Tessa giggles and she sticks out her tiny hand for us to high five.
“Now what are you two up to? Don’t think I didn’t see you put the cookies in there. Tessa doesn’t need all that sugar. She needs veggies to grow.”
I quickly put my finger down my throat giving her the theatric gag show. “Dude, Oreos have cream filling, which is kinda like milk, which is totally healthy for you!” Agnes rolls her eyes at me while she grabs a loaf of bread, and I toss a bag of Doritos in the cart.
“Knock it off.”
“Knock what off? I thought we were having a party? Chips are like the party food foundation.” I wink at Tessa who is smiling from ear-to-ear. I’m gonna be the best aunt ever by the time this grocery trip is over. Her smile brightens even wider. Man, if she’s this happy over junk food…
“Mr. Wessy!” She beams. My body goes rigid and I turn slowly to see Peter Parker standing behind us with his own cart. I try and growl at him but hot damn, he’s in a pair of jeans and a Guns-n-Roses t-shirt. “Mr. Wessy, Aunt Getty got me cookies!” I watch his lips perk at my nickname. Poor Tessa, being only three can’t say my name; so, ever since she could speak, I have been Aunt Getty.
“Ahh, well you must have one special aunt to get those cookies.” He steps in front of his cart. Smiling at Tessa.
“I do. She makes wots of noises when she sweeps.”
I whip around, “Tessa, I do not!”
“Yes, you do. Mommy says you wake up the angels in heaven you’re so woud.”
I can feel my face heating with embarrassment. I turn back to Peter. “I do not snore.”
“Yes, you do.” Tessa repeats.
Ugh.
I huff, shrugging my shoulders, “Whatever. What are you doing here? Buying more baking powder for your volcano experiment?” I laugh in my head, because let’s be honest, that was kinda funny. Peter’s eyes light up with humor. He agrees.
“I was actually just shopping for something to bring tonight to the staff get-together.”
NO! Why didn’t I think that he would be there? As if I don’t have enough problems dealing with him at work, now I have to deal with him on the weekend. My sister returns, placing a random jar in the cart and greets Peter.
“Oh, hello, Peter, great to see you. You’re still joining us tonight, right?” She says kindly. I really need to tell her to not be so nice to this guy.
“Of course, Agnes, I wouldn’t miss it.” And he breaks his connection with my sister to look at me. He doesn’t smile any different, but hell if I don’t see that mischief in his eyes. He is not going to win at this game, whatever it is he is trying to play here. I slap a winning smile on my face, and turn to Agnes, “Great, so then Ben should be there? We can get to know…”
“Jury Duty,” both Peter and Agnes say at the same time.
Fuck fucking Jury Duty!
I’ve been sitting here at this party for over an hour wanting to rip my ears off. These people. All they talk about is work, work, work. Don’t they want to talk about anything else, since they are NOT AT WORK? Betsy, the secretary, just went on a ten-minute rant about parents calling in that their kids won’t be in, after school’s already started. Jim, the second-grade teacher, just went off about how they need to add more curriculum, and Janice, who teaches fifth grade, is still complaining about the dress code and what the girls are showing up to school in. I mean, I do have Janice’s back on that one. A few outfits I actually thought I’d wanted to pull off, and I’m twenty-two if that tells you anything.
All this yapping and I’m still trying to figure out what Agnes gets out of these get-togethers, besides an ulcer.
“You know, maybe if you spent half the energy you do complaining about stuff that doesn’t even matter, on stuff like the kids, you would feel more accomplished. The art supplies for the kids is kind of pathetic. They’re using super old crayons and cheap glue. You also have half the amount of supplies needed. The library could benefit from some new books. Did you know that Peter Parker walks over to the actual library and brings back books for the kids?”
“Who is Peter Parker?” Janice asks.
“Ugh, not the point. But yes, Janice, the clothes, totally got your back on that one, but adding more curriculum? Those kids are drowning in it. You need to add more activity. Less smushing more work in their little, over-filled, brains.” I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of my beer. They all stare at me like I’ve grown a new head. Probably for the best. I have no idea why I even spoke up in the first place. It’s not like this is my school or like I’m a real teacher or anything. Ms. Evans will be back soon from her recovery, and I’ll be on my way to another adventure. I get up and walk into the kitchen. I dump my empty bottle and grab two more, making my way out to the back patio. Taking a seat, I bring my knees up to my chest and stare into the clear night sky.
I think about the past year and try to pinpoint where I went wrong. I try to deny the answer that screams in my head. It was the moment I left home, denying the opportunity to finish college, save money and allow myself a better life. I try and think of myself back then and wonder if I had to do it all over again, would I? Would I still be that irresponsible teen who just wanted to tell everyone to suck it and drive off into the sunset not wearing my seatbelt, just because I could?
My life as, free as it is, just isn’t as great as I thought it would be. I don’t regret my decisions, because that would mean everybody else in the world was right and I was wrong. But, I do wish things were different. I watch my sister be this great person. At work. At home. And it causes this little twitch of sadness inside me. Like maybe a small, tiny, weeny part of me kinda wishes I had that. But then I would have to admit that my life wasn’t all bells and whistles, and I just didn’t want to admit that yet.
I wonder how it would be if I stuck to school, got a degree and maybe ended up following my sister’s footsteps. Becoming a teacher and educating the little creatures of today. I think about how it’s been the past week, with the kids and how resilient they are. Sometimes I wonder who is teaching who. I mean, them teaching me more than vice versa. It’s kind of sad that I can actually picture myself doing this all the time. But, that’s where the fun ends. When I know that, sooner or later, I will be back on the road to nowhere trying to prove a point to who… I’m not really sure.
I hear the door open and close, and I peek to see the one and only.
“What do you want?” I ask, staring back up at the stars, taking a large sip of my beer.
He doesn’t answer, but takes a seat next to me. I turn to see he’s also drinking a beer. He’s back in his work attire, sporting a pair of kakis and a button up polo. “What happened to your Guns-N-Roses shirt? Don’t want anyone to know your alter ego? They might find out you’re really some sort of party animal who raves to heavy metal and goes on drinking binges instead of science fairs?” I laugh taking another swig. We connect eyes and something in them tells me that I might be on to something. “No way. Tell me I’m not wrong. The science teacher secretly has a bad side.” He stands quickly sticking out his hand.
“Come with me.”
Huh? “No way. Why? You gonna try and retaliate? Avenge all teachers I’ve tried to take out this week?” His laugh is like a tickle to my lady parts. I fight to admit that I seriously love that sound.
“No, but it would be fitting though, Peter Parker, saving the world from the reckless bad girl.” I give him my evil eye while he smiles wider. “Come with me. I promise, I’ll bring you back in one piece.” His hand taunting, I decide, what the hell. I stick my hand out, sliding it into his, the feel of his warm skin wrapped around mine. He walks me around to the front of the house and a few cars down, until he stops beside a Jeep. Unlocking the door, he says, “Jump in,” and walks around the other side. Knowing I have a pretty loud voice if he does try and kill me, I jump in. The inside smells just like him. Of spice and aftershave.
Climbing in himself, he puts the key in the ignition and fiddles with some dials on the stereo. Before I know it, Taylor Swift is blaring through the speakers.
“Oh my god!” I yell, slapping my hands on my thighs. He starts laughing, “I’m kidding. This is my sister’s CD. She barrowed my car earlier. This is what I wanted you to hear.” He pulls the CD out and replaces it with a new one. Before long, Guns-n-Roses is playing loudly through the speaker.
“Ahh, it’s true. Secret rocker. So, is the science teacher just a facade? Kinda like the real Peter Parker? Do you secretly save the world on your off time?” I’m smiling at him, enjoying the banter. His frame seems so much bigger, being in the small space. He’s not saying anything, so I go on. “Did I just bust you out? You gonna have to keep me quiet now?” I laugh. But he doesn’t. He leans over and wraps his strong hand around my neck, bringing our faces close, our lips pressing together.
The feel of him sparks something inside me. I can’t put a finger on what it is, but there’s something that Peter Parker wakes inside of me. He doesn’t rush the kiss. More like waits to see if I’ll stop him. Instead, I part my lips allowing our tongues to collide in a super-hot kiss. I can’t remember the last time I ever made out in a car, if that’s what we’re doing. The old-school French kissing outside the parent’s house until the lights go on and we have to break apart. But this time, I’m an adult and no one’s going to stop us.
Not sure what comes over me, but I lean forward, letting him know I want more. His response is just want I want as he pulls my body over the center console to his side, my legs now straddling him. My body is on fire, being in this position. I shamelessly grind forward, loving the friction the hardness between his legs brushing against my covered clit causes. His grip around my ass tightens and he growls into my mouth. Our kiss becomes brutal, my hands working their way up his tight chest, up his neck and into his thick, dark hair. I grip handfuls into my fists and, as I cock my head to the side for a deeper kiss, I accidently knock his glasses off.
“Shit, sorry,” I moan into his mouth. He doesn’t skip a beat, grabbing my ass cheeks tighter and grinding what feels like a gigantic sized monster against my sex. This is not how I saw this going, but man, am I glad. His mouth, his strong hands, his hard cock, everything has become a pleasant surprise. The sound of Axl Rose singing in the background while we kiss and grind, our teeth scraping, our tongues dancing around one another, while our hands explore, squeezing, pulling and pinching. It’s almost becoming too much and the buildup is going to cause me to orgasm. I should stop this; this is immature what we’re doing. Dry humping in a car, god, what’s wrong with us? His grip is strong and intense, pushing, pulling, as our bodies grind.
“Fuck,” I moan. I’m just at the peak, trying my hardest not to let go, when his phone begins to vibrate in his front pocket. The sensation intensifies and the vibrations are an added bonus to my already throbbing clit. I lose my battle and I bite down on Peters lip, letting my orgasm shoot through me.
“Shit, shit… Shiiiiit,” I repeat, forgetting how good it feels to let go. The buzzing stops. But then starts again, tickling my sensitive center.
“Sit up,” Peter says, digging his phone out of his pocket, he looks at the screen. “It’s your sister.”
Shit!
He presses the green button, and puts the phone to his ear. “Hey, Agnes,” he speaks, but you can tell his voice is strained. “Yeah, I know where she’s at.” What! My sister would kill me if she knew what I was doing! I slap him on his chest! I mouth no, while shaking my head.
Smiling, he says, “Agnes, hold on, I have another call.” He pulls his phone away to mute it.
“Go out with me.”
“What?”
“Go out with me. Let me take you to dinner. Or… I tell your sister you’re in here with me and I just gave you an old fashion orgasm.”
I gasp. “Are you blackmailing me, Peter Parker?”
He laughs, “Its Wesley, and yes. Yes, I am.”
I can’t believe him. I call his bluff and shake my head no. When he asks me if I’m sure, I stick to my ground and say yes. He just shrugs his shoulders, and brings the phone back to his ear and tells my sister that I am currently sitting on his lap.