Chapter Nineteen

 

 

Emerson

“Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Powers.”

“Please, call me Adam.”

Adam fidgeted in much the same way as his daughter, except with him I could determine his reasoning. I’d called him Wednesday morning to set up a parent-teacher conference, hoping to get a better understanding of Alexa’s quirky behaviors so I could help her achieve a more passable grade. Adam agreed to a Friday meeting, insisting it happen in the early afternoon, due to his schedule. Therefore, I’d had to find coverage for my third-period class to make it possible.

I’d chosen a conference room in the teacher’s lounge instead of using an empty classroom since there was more adequate, adult seating and a more intimate, private setting for talking. Plus, there would be less chance of interruptions.

We sat across from one another on a pair of loveseats stationed near a large window at the back of the lounge. There was a coffee table between us strewn with magazines, and that was where Adam’s focus had been locked since we sat down.

“Adam, I’ve asked you to come in so we could discuss Alexa’s progress in my class.”

“Is she failing again?”

I pulled a print-out from a folder that listed Alexa’s current grade and the results of all assignments and tests up until that point. “No, but I think she could be doing a lot better.”

His shoulders visibly loosened, and he let out a breath. “She's not disruptive, is she? I can talk to her.”

I considered my words carefully before speaking. I knew enough that parents could be sensitive when it came to discussing challenging behaviors. “Her attention is often elsewhere, and because she can’t seem to manage a full period without getting up and moving around, yes, it can be disruptive to the other students, but I won’t say she is causing problems specifically. She likes to linger near the window, sharpen her pencils at inappropriate times, or doodle art in her notebooks, ignoring the instruction altogether. Sometimes, if I change up my daily routine for teaching in the slightest, it seems to really set her off.”

“She doesn’t like disruption to her routine. Everything has to be ordered just right. The same every day.” I nodded, studying Adam who’d decided to meet my eyes, his defenses rising. “She’s a good student, Mr. Cartwright. She can be smart if given a chance. So what if she can’t stay sitting. Does that matter?”

“It does when the expectation is for my students to remain in their seats and focus on their work. Adam, I see a lot of great things with Alexa. She is capable of doing quite well, but she seems to struggle a lot at times, and I guess I’ve invited you here so I can better understand how to help her succeed. If there is anything I can modify in my—”

“She doesn’t need special help,” he snapped.

“I didn’t say she did, Mr. Powers. Modifications simply allow students with different ways of learning to be successful. We have a number of kids with IEPs in the school, and they are put in place so that those students meet their potential. It helps reduce their frustration with the curriculum.”

“That’s just a fancy way of saying she needs special programming, isn’t it? Trust me, I’ve been hearing it for years.”

“IEP? Perhaps you don’t understand the term. I assure you, that isn’t what I’m saying. An IEP is an individual education plan. All that does is provide us teachers with an understanding of any modifications in the curriculum that a child might need to complete the courses set out for them. For some kids, it means providing longer testing times, or quieter environments to do their work. Others might require an aide to ensure they understand the written work as it’s laid out, an interpreter, in essence. Each plan is different based on the student’s requirements. For Alexa, that might mean frequent movement breaks. It’s nothing shameful, and it doesn’t target her or make her stand out. The program is set up in a way so the students don’t feel segregated in any way. You’d be surprised how many students have their own IEPs. And willingly, I might add.”

When all he did was glare, I pressed, “How does Alexa do with homework at night? I’ve noticed a variation in the quality of what she returns. Some days, she does quite well. Others, it’s half finished and barely legible, almost as though something stood in her way of completing it. I’ve seen strong evidence of a smart student, yet, there are days when she seems to show serious struggles.”

“I’m a single dad, Mr. Cartwright, I can’t always be there to monitor her. I work shift work. She’s sixteen, she needs to be responsible on her own.”

“All right. I understand. Have you noticed—”

“Look, I don’t want her labeled. It’s that simple. She’s a good kid. She does the best with what she’s been given. Cut her some slack. If I agree to this IE whatever, it’s just one step closer to the bullshit we dealt with at her last school, and I’m not doing that again. She deserves to be just a regular sixteen-year-old girl like the rest of them, doesn’t she?”

I quirked a brow. Something about his little speech made me feel like I was on the edge of a discovery. Adam jumped up and paced the small space, gnawing his thumbnail.

“Adam, I only have Alexa’s best interests in mind. I want to know how to help her. She’s a great kid, and like I said, she has potential. I just want to bring that out.”

“Then have patience and don’t judge her.”

“Why would I judge her? Has she been judged in the past? Who exactly is sticking labels where they don’t belong? I can tell you, it isn’t me.”

I knew all about labels and how they could affect a person. The last thing I wanted to do was be a labeler. Not after what I’d gone through as a gay teenager in South Bell.

He stopped pacing and faced me, the anguish on his face radiating loud and clear. He hesitated before speaking. “Can I say it off the record? I don’t want this anywhere near her personal file, and I swear to God, Mr. Cartwright, I will sue your ass if it comes out.”

Ouch. The man was incredibly defensive. I’d hit a nerve. His earlier discomfort shifted to me. I could honestly say, I’d never been threatened by a parent.

“Okay. Off the record.”

He stared for a long moment, and I began to think he’d changed his mind. Then, “Alexa has a form of Asperger’s. She was diagnosed as a kid after some teachers at her old school felt I needed to take her to a doctor because she didn’t conform to the normal expectations of an eight-year-old kid.

“Well, lo and behold,” he continued, “after all the bloody hoops and various assessments they put her through, they slapped a label on her. My mildly quirky daughter went from being unique to special needs.” He put air quotes around the words and spat them like they tasted bitter. “Do you know what that school did to her?”

I could imagine. Although I’d only been teaching a few short years, I’d seen and read about all the constant shifts in the school curriculum when it came to inclusion and moving away from segregating students with any form of disabilities. We’d taken leaps and strides forward, but when teachers like Mrs. Tremble were involved, old habits died hard. There were still too many teachers from the older generations who didn’t transition with the times.

“It wasn’t so much the aide they provided her with that was the problem, it was the way the teachers saw her and spoke to her. Their behaviors bled into the other students. Until then, Alexa didn’t have too many problems. She didn’t have many friends, and she was hyperactive and didn’t always pay attention, but the other kids left her alone, and the teachers didn’t judge her. Afterward, not so much. Alexa became ‘the girl with Asperger’s’ instead of being just Alexa. Everything she did, everything she said or didn’t say was excusable because of a label. By the eighth grade, I couldn’t take it any longer. I put in for a transfer at work, and we moved.”

Adam re-settled on the couch with his hands clasped in front of himself. Talking seemed to have a therapeutic effect. His anger, although evident when speaking about Alexa’s past, was no longer directed at my desire to help.

“There is nothing in her transcript. How did it not get transferred?”

“Because I didn’t want it transferred. I wanted a clean slate. She was becoming a young woman. She understands about her diagnosis even though she can’t always articulate what she needs. She’s not stupid.”

“Adam, I’ve not once called Alexa stupid. Please give me the benefit of the doubt here.”

He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry. I just want her to be a teenager like all the other girls. The last thing I want is a label on her head again.”

“And that’s fair.” I discarded the folder I’d brought on the table. Adam needed a more impersonal approach, and I needed a lesson about Alexa. “How is she doing in her other classes?”

Adam shrugged. “Much the same. She gets by. Her grades aren’t always perfect. None of her other teachers seem to notice or care.”

“Well, I care. I’d love to see her be as successful as possible. Tell me about Alexa, so at the very least, I can understand. My knowledge of Asperger’s is embarrassingly limited. I know it’s on the spectrum, but I also know it’s an extremely diverse and individual disorder. Help me out.”

Adam took a minute to decide—whether it was where to start or if he should be bothered, I couldn’t be sure.

“A lot of things you’ve noticed already. She struggles to sit still. Fidgets a lot. Her attention span is rather short most of the time unless it has to do with one of her obsessions, in which case, she can remain occupied for hours.”

“What kind of obsessions?”

“Art for instance. She loves drawing and sketching. Unicorns mostly, but I’ve noticed it changing recently to more realism. When something fascinates her, she can become obsessed rather quickly. Everything she does revolves around her new fixation. It ties in with her compulsive behaviors, too. Which is why she needs familiar and consistent routines. She needs to have control over her day and not be sprung upon with surprises. She reads the same book every night. Watches the same programs after school. Eats the same cereal for breakfast every morning. Routine. It’s really important for her.”

Adam paused and looked inside his head a moment before meeting my eyes. “Why do people see that as a bad thing? Who cares if she likes Chex for breakfast every day? Is she hurting anyone? Who cares if she’s been reading the same copy of Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing since she was younger than the kid in the book? She reads other things too, but that one has always been her favorite.”

“I don’t have a problem with that, Adam.”

“She doesn’t handle noise well. It can send her into behaviors. She’s extremely sensitive to sound. Too much, and she can’t filter or focus. I think a lot of her problems in school early on had to do with overstimulation.”

Adam opened his mouth to say more, then stopped himself.

“We’re still off the record here, Adam. Help me out. For Alexa’s sake.”

“Have you noticed she doesn’t hold eye contact all the time?”

“I have.” It was glaringly obvious to anyone who met her. Most people looked you in the eye when you spoke, and Alexa rarely managed brief contact. Lately, I’d seen it more and more, but it still wasn’t the same.

“It has to do with over stimulation. Direct eye contact is almost sensory overload for her. She can manage, but it’s more difficult with strangers and people she isn’t close with. It requires a lot of trust for her to hold your gaze for any length of time. She isn’t being rude.”

“Thank you. For explaining,” I clarified. “All this will help. As a friend, what can I do in my program to help Alexa be the most productive and successful?”

Adam thought for a minute, almost as though he was weighing his options on trust. Eventually, he guided me along through an ideal classroom experience for Alexa. We talked about things that could set her off, and he shared how best to bring her back in those moments I lost her focus. Adam suggested I meet with Alexa and have her explain certain things as well since she was more educated about Asperger’s than me. I agreed, and by the end of our meeting, I thought Adam felt better for having shared with me something that had been on his shoulders for too long.

For a brief moment, I considered bringing up the odd crush Alexa seemed to have developed for me but decided it wasn’t necessary. Based on all Adam had shared, I understood her obsession with me more and felt I could handle it appropriately on my own with the new knowledge I’d acquired. Besides, I worried my disclosure might embarrass her.

As we rose to say goodbye, Adam shook my hand. “Thank you. It’s not often I get a teacher who gets it or tries to.”

“Thank you for trusting me. It might not be a horrible thing to talk to Alexa about an IEP. It could help in her other classes as well, and I promise you, she won’t feel that same segregation she felt in elementary school. Students of all sorts have IEPs in place. Just a goal to help them succeed. High school is different.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Once he’d left the lounge, I collapsed again on the couch. It was too much for a Friday. At least I got the answers I was looking for. Alexa was a vibrant young woman, and I hoped to help her be as successful as possible.

I checked the time on my phone and noticed I had two texts from Kaiden. Third period was almost over, so I figured I’d let my coverage ride it out until the end of class and I’d jump back in for fourth.

I opened his texts with a wide grin, a tickle of fluttering goodness erupting in my belly as I did. The past week had been unbelievable. My entire life had taken a huge turn for good, and hiding my giddiness had been a challenge.

Kaiden: Cooper wants me to go out with him tonight to the bar, so I’ll be taking off right after the game.

The second read.

Kaiden: That’s cool, right? You and Jagger can come. I’m sure Cooper wouldn’t mind.

A seed of apprehension grew at the idea of Kaiden hanging out at the bar. Visions of the last time we were there trickled into my brain. I knew things were different now, but I also knew we had a front to uphold. Just how far would he take things when his focus would be on making sure Cooper believed he was single and looking?

I toyed with each scenario in my head. If Jagger and I went, would that mean I’d have to sit there and watch Kaiden dance and flirt with other people? I’d barely contained my jealous rage last time we went out. However, I couldn’t expect him to sit complacently at the table with me all night. That in itself would raise suspicions. On the other hand, if I didn’t go, would all that flirting and grinding happen behind my back? Would Kaiden toe the line and behave? Add a few drinks to the mix and just how solid was our connection? Where did he draw the line?

I didn’t want to be a dick, so I typed out an answer that I knew was the only right thing to say.

Emerson: Gonna pass. You guys have fun. Before sending, I added, just not too much fun.

What was the reality of things remaining as they were between us? Was monogamy something I could expect? Carrying a secret like this around every day for who knows how long, was that possible? Was it fair to ask of Kaiden? I knew what I wanted, and I knew I could fake my way through life if that was what it took, but could Kaiden? He still had a lot of growing up to do. When he found his direction in life, it may not point toward me in the end. How destroyed would I be if he decided to walk away?

 

* * *

 

Our first game of the season kicked off at five that evening. It was a home game, and the bleachers were filled with swarms of students and just as many proud parents, everyone cheering. Kaiden shimmied up beside me before we began, shoulder nudging me as he scanned the court.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m concentrating.”

“Mmm, okay.”

He didn’t press and took up a position at the far end of the court to cheer the team on. It was a close game. The girls played hard, keeping the other team on their toes, but sadly, we lost by five points in the end. I rallied everyone together for a pep talk and sent them all packing for the weekend.

The gymnasium emptied slowly, the only people lingering were parents of the girls still in the locker room. Kaiden came and found me again as I sat on the bottom row of bleachers, waiting for the gymnasium to clear out so I could lock up. He plunked beside me and kicked his feet out as he leaned back against the seats behind us.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us tonight?”

“Positive.” There was a clipped tone to my voice, and Kaiden caught it, side-eyeing me. I refused to meet his gaze.

When I didn’t say more, he turned his attention back to the emptying gym. When the last stragglers left, I gathered my gym bag and heaved it over my shoulder. Kaiden stood as well.

“I thought you were going to Cooper’s after the game?”

“He’s busy until later. Change of plans. Can I catch a ride home?”

“Of course.” I darted around him, heading to the hallway. “I have to run upstairs and get some stuff from my classroom. Wanna wait in the truck?”

Kaiden shrugged when I offered him the keys. “Nah, I’ll follow.”

We went in silence, our feet echoing in the empty halls. Everyone generally cleared out immediately on Fridays, and the only person we came across was a janitor pushing a broom down the second-floor hallway. In my classroom, I rifled through stacks of papers, gathering some work to do over the weekend. I’d need something to keep my mind occupied tonight, or I’d probably be disturbed with thoughts of what Kaiden was doing at the bar.

Images flooded my mind, and I peeked up to see him only to find him staring back with a furrowed brow.

“What? Why are you scowling?” I asked.

“Why are you in a mood?”

“It’s nothing.” I dropped my head and re-checked the papers in my hand, deciding they would do and shoving them in my bag.

“Liar. You think I can’t tell when you’re pissed or bothered?”

“Fine, you want to know what’s on my mind? I can’t shake the disturbing images of you and Cooper at the bar tonight, dancing and grinding up against some random woman again like you did before. Do you know how nauseating that was to watch?”

Kaiden flinched and his scowl deepened. “Is that what you think I have planned?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? It should be. Cooper’s single, and as far as he knows, so are you. That’s the idea behind the night out, Kaiden. To have a fun time and to pick up. And I get it, we need to play it cool and not draw attention to ourselves, but excuse me if it makes me a little…” I waved a hand around my body, unsure how to describe the feelings rolling around inside me.

“Jealous?” he provided.

“Is that unfair?” It was an honest question, because what was right and wrong anymore? There were no rules or guidelines to follow when you were fucking your goddamn brother.

“Only because you think so low of me. I told you to come, and you turned me down.”

“I don’t want to watch it happen. That’s even worse. No thanks.”

“Em, I’m not going to be an idiot. Of course, I’ll talk trash with Cooper, but I’ll keep the dancing and flirting respectable. You don’t think I can do that?”

“Add a gallon of alcohol to your system, and we’ll see how that works out.”

“Fuck you. I am not a fucking cheater. Never have been. It’s not like this is a normal situ—”

A clatter in the hallway brought us up short, and we stared at each other a beat before mutually deciding this was a terrible place for our conversation. I secured my messenger bag and slung it over my shoulder.

“Come on.”

I breezed past him and jetted into the hallway, scanning both ways to see if anyone might have been lingering too close and overheard us. It was as barren as when we’d arrived. The janitor was about because his large roller garbage bin was sitting at the far end of the hallway, but otherwise, there was no indication of people.

We raced outside and to the teacher’s lot without another word. A small group of students was gathered near the front corner of the school, clearly smoking where they shouldn’t be, but when they saw me, they dispersed.

We got in the truck, and I backed out of the parking space. As I pulled into the street, I caught sight of another student sitting against the wall of the building, face in a book, right by the exit we’d used.

Kaiden chuckled and followed my gaze. “It’s your teenage crush. Maybe I’m the one who should be jealous. She’s stalking you.”

I smacked his arm and scowled. On closer inspection, I noticed he was eerily right. Alexa peeked up, and her gaze followed the truck as we pulled away. I probably should have mentioned this to her father when we’d met earlier. Understanding her better, I hoped I could successfully deter her from her little crush. If it didn’t work, hopefully, it would go away on its own. Summer was approaching, a few months out of school should do the trick.

At home, Kaiden skipped away to shower and get ready for his evening, and nothing more was said. I made a sandwich, not feeling all that hungry, as I settled at the table to do lesson planning for the following week.

A half an hour later, Kaiden strolled in looking amazing in a snug T-shirt and distressed jeans. He’d styled his dark hair off his face and smelled like the sandalwood body wash he’d bought the other day.

He rifled through the cupboards, his back turned, and I stared at his fuckable ass where it sat snug in his jeans. All I could imagine were other people’s hands on it. Other people burying their face into his neck and scenting his unique, manly essence.

I pushed back from the table and snuck up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him back against me. He went willingly, releasing his hold on the cupboard, and collapsed in my hold.

I traced my nose along his nape, inhaling the fresh shower scent as I squeezed him tighter.

“You’re so jealous.” He chuckled like the notion was ridiculous.

“Put yourself in my shoes. How would you feel if Jag and I went out and I let another guy hang on me, grind against me, and suckle my neck all night?”

Kaiden dipped his head, and I decorated his neck with soft kisses and licks. “I’d fucking kick his ass.”

“See.”

“We need to cover this up, Em. I’m not going to be stupid. I swear to you. I’ll keep it innocent.”

I slipped a hand lower and squeezed his growing erection through his pants. He groaned and pushed against me. “I have no choice but to trust you, Kai.”

I pressed my palm harder, smoothing it over him with more determination.

“I’m yours, Emerson. I already swore it.”

“Let me fuck you before you go. I want you to smell like me when you walk out that door. And when you get home, I want to do it all over again.”

I popped the button on his jeans and slipped my hand inside.

“Fuck, yeah.” He rocked into my hand when I gripped him, forcing more friction and moaning with each thrust.

 I spun him around and pushed his pants and underwear down as I dropped to my knees.

“Oh, shit…” He gripped the counter as I stroked him and looked up into his eyes. Eyes which were filled with anticipation.

“Who owns this, Kai?”

“You.” He gulped and thrust his hips forward.

“Fucking right I do.” I licked around his head, tasting the slight spill already accumulating at his tip. “You taste incredible.”

I jerked him a few times as I toyed at his crown with my tongue, flicking the sensitive slit and watching his reaction. Then, I sucked him down my throat, humming and letting the vibrations course through him. He gripped my hair and guided my movements. I took him at a steady pace, licking, sucking, and savoring his every reaction.

I undid my pants and jerked myself as I worked at drawing moans and grunts from deep within him. Every noise was a treasure that fueled my own pleasure. Kaiden pressed into my mouth, urging me to take him deeper, faster. His fingers tightened their hold the closer he got.

When he verged on finishing, I pulled off and stood, lining us up together and using the spittle I’d left behind for lubrication as I jerked us together. Our mouths collided in a hungry, eager pairing. Kaiden whimpered into my mouth as I tugged us faster, tweaking and twisting my wrist on each upward stroke.

His hips jolted forward, and his teeth nipped aggressively as we danced the brink of orgasm. His lips parted, no longer able to kiss as he grunted and trembled, gasped, then, “Ah, fuck. Coming… oh shit.”

His hot seed coated my hand, his dick twitching and pulsing more and more with each pull. He dropped his head to my shoulder and cried out, fingers squeezing my sides, threatening to cut flesh. With the added slide, I came a few seconds later, thrusting against him, sucking in a breath and holding it as the waves of pleasure tried to drown me. I’d barely finished shooting when the chime of the doorbell startled us apart.

“Fuck!” Kaiden’s gaze darted to the door of the kitchen, his eyes widening, and cheeks flushed. “That’s Cooper. Shit.”

He peered down at himself. Cum covered his thighs, and a little bit had spilled onto the hem of his shirt. I was a bigger mess since I hadn’t got my pants down far enough.

“Get the door,” I snapped, breaking through the horror on his face. “I’m a bigger mess than you.”

Scrambling to right his clothes, Kaiden made his way to the door as it rang a second time. I couldn’t help chuckling at his momentary panic like he’d expected Cooper to walk into the house and catch us with our pants down.

I cleaned up as quickly as I could, trading my work clothes for joggers and a clean T-shirt once I’d wiped away all the evidence of our little kitchen foray. Then, I took off back down the hall to relieve Kaiden, because I knew he’d be tripping over himself in an effort to shed all the guilt from his face and look normal.

“Hey, Coop,” I said as I entered the living room where they were chatting. Kaiden’s cheeks were still highlighted, and his stance was awkward like he was trying to cover something… like a cum stain on his shirt. I pushed away a snicker.

“Hey, Mr. C. Are you joining us?”

I shook my head and nodded toward the bathroom. “All yours,” I told Kai. He paled and scurried off, mortification threatening to take root. He needed to work on nonchalance, or we’d be in trouble. Cooper knew nothing, but Kaiden’s shame-faced escape screamed for attention.

Cooper’s gaze trailed after him, and he tossed a thumb over his shoulder once Kaiden disappeared. “Is he all right?”

I waved it off and smiled. “Yeah, he’s fine. Keep him in line tonight, yeah?”

Cooper laughed, and his brows shot to his hairline. “No promises.”

I pushed down the rising aggravation as Kaiden returned wearing a clean shirt, his cheeks less rosy. At least I knew I was sending him off smelling of sex. Hopefully, Cooper didn’t notice.

“Let’s split,” Kaiden said, grabbing his keys and eyeing me. “See ya later.”

I silently reminded him of our chat, and the corner of his lips quirked. I trusted Kaiden, and later, I would spend the rest of the evening buried in his ass, reminding him of what we had.