"It's not that funny," I growled, slamming a box down on the counter in the biology equipment room.

"You're a senior, but haven't been kissed?" Mr. Heywood asked laughing so hard he was out of breath.

I felt myself blushing and I looked at the ground. "I mean I've done quick pecks and stuff."

Mr. Heywood started snickering again. "How many boyfriends have you had?"

"Five," I responded, frowning deeper.

"Only five?"

"What about it?" I demanded, glaring angrily at Mr. Heywood. "I can't help it if guys don't like me!"

Mr. Heywood looked surprised for a second, and then he smirked. "You're mistaken. I think a lot of guys like you."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "How would you know? This is only your fifth day here."

"When you're a young, handsome, kind teacher, people tell you stuff," Mr. Heywood responded with a shrug. "For example, your friend Sadie is going to be asked out today."

"What?" I gasped. "By who?"

"Some kid named Sam?"

"I knew he liked her!" I responded, slamming my fist down into my hand. "It was only a matter of time..."

"Senior," Mr. Heywood snorted once more.

"Oh, will you drop it!" I snapped, unpacking the box that I had just placed on the counter. "How'd you even find out about it anyway?"

"You're friend, Casey."

That little traitor. With unnecessary force, I ripped the tape off the next box.

"I'm going to go get a drink, do you want something?" Mr. Heywood asked, hopping down from the counter.

"I don't have any money," I told him.

He shrugged. "It's on me."

"Really?"

"Don't be so shocked, you make me feel like a mean person," Mr. Heywood responded with a sigh.

"You are though," I pointed out.

"I know."

"Bottle of water. Now go," I demanded, irritated again.

He left the room, and I continued to unpack in silence. There were only a few more boxes left before they were all gone. I'd probably finish today. If I finished, did that mean I was done helping him after school? For some reason, that thought made my stomach turn a little. Why was I sad about it?

I shook the thought away and continued unpacking. After my third box I frowned. How long did it take Mr. Heywood to go get drinks? I started on my fourth box and was halfway through when he walked in, carrying a coke and a bottle of water. He set them both down on the counter and ran a hand through his hair.

"Geez," he muttered, pushing himself back onto the counter.

"What took you so long?"

"I ran into some girl's at the vending machine," he explained, taking his coke and opening it. "It took forever to get away from them."

"Why didn't you just say you didn't want to talk?"

Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. I realized why he couldn't do that. He was the "nice, handsome, young, amazing" new teacher. He couldn't ruin his image. I grumbled as I grabbed my water. Why was it only me he was himself with?

"Thanks, Mr. Heywood," I said as I opened it and took a long drink.

"Call me Chris outside of class," he ordered, setting down his coke. "It's weird being called Mr. Heywood when school's over."

"Okay, Chris."

To my surprise I blushed. It sounded a little intimate; calling a teacher by their real name, that is. I faced away from him to hide my blush and continued unpacking boxes. I actually felt a little lucky that I knew his real self. The girls that already, or probably would, have crushes on him wouldn't know a thing, unlike I did. It was like a secret between us. I smiled to myself, feeling slightly happier.

After a half hour, I finished the last box. I frowned when I turned and realized there was no more. I turned to Mr. Heywood. "Mr. Hey— er, Chris?"

He looked at me, opening his mouth to speak, but suddenly his phone went off. He placed the magazine he was reading down and held up a finger to me. He pulled out his phone and looked at it. A scowl appeared on his face and he flipped the phone open, putting it to his ear.

"What now?" he demanded into the receiver. "How many times do I have to tell you no? No! I said I don't care, and I really don't care. Yeah. Do what you want, but leave me out of it. Go ahead. Whatever. Bye." He snapped the phone shut and glowered at it for a moment before tossing it onto the counter.

"Was that the same person from a few days ago?" I asked, my voice quieter than I expected.

"Yeah."

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure," Mr. Heywood responded with a shrug. "What did you want?"

"Oh, um, all the boxes are unpacked and put away," I told him, gesturing to all the empty boxes behind me.

"Oh. Well I guess you can go home for today," Mr. Heywood responded, looking slightly surprised, and a little disappointed. "That took less time than I expected."

I waited for him to say more, but when he didn't I frowned. Was this really it? Was I off the hook now? No more chores from him? I didn't know why, but not only did I feel sad, but I actually felt a little bit lonely. I hesitated by the counter, taking my time finishing my water so I didn't have to leave.

It was much more fun to be here than to be at my house all by myself since my mom didn't come home until late due to work. If I was here doing the work for Mr. Heywood, I actually had someone to talk to and interact work, even if it was just orders, and being made fun of for me.

When my water was gone I sighed and threw it into the recycling. I stooped down and picked up my school bag, lingering. I pretended to be interested in a poster on the wall. After a few minutes I heard the jingle of car keys. I turned to see Mr. Heywood holding them out to me.

"Want a ride home?"

I smiled to myself. "Sure."

It was sort of awkward sitting in Mr. Heywood's car. He had a pretty fancy BMW. It made me wonder how he could afford it. I didn't say anything though, I knew better than that. I sat in the passenger's seat with my hands on my lap, staring straight ahead.

"Do you mind if I stop for gas?" Mr. Heywood asked, quickly glancing at me.

"No," I responded quickly.

He looked over at me suspiciously. I regretted answering so quickly. He probably thought I liked him or something now.

"I, er, don't really want to go home yet," I started, fiddling with my fingers. "No one is ever home, so it's boring, you know?"

"I see," Mr. Heywood responded, his eyes on the road again. "Where are your parents?"

"My dad died about two years ago," I explained while looking out the window. "Some car hit him, and killed him."

I waited for Mr. Heywood to say the clichéd line, that everyone else had told me when I mentioned my father's death. But to my surprise, he didn't even mention it. However his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"What about you mom?"

"She's alive," I told him. "And she works her butt off to support the two of us. She's got this crazy idea in her head that I need to live in a big house and wear brand name clothing like all the kids at school. But I don't really like taking money from my mom. It feels weird."

"I know what you mean," Mr. Heywood responded.

I stared curiously at him. "You do?"

He nodded. "I never had a good relationship with my parents. It was always weird asking them for money. I felt like a moocher or something since I never really saw them."

I realized Mr. Heywood was speaking in past tense. "They're dead?"

Mr. Heywood nodded. "Both of them died in a car crash about two years ago," he started slowly. "They hit a man in the street, and my dad, who was driving, veered to the right, straight into a telephone pole which killed them both."

My mouth went dry. I remembered my mom telling me that the couple in the car that had hit my dad had died as well. I swallowed, licking my lips. Did this mean what I thought it meant? Did Mr. Heywood's parents kill my dad?

"I'm sorry," I apologized out loud, hanging my head in shame. "I'm sorry, Mr. Heywood, I just thought something really bad."

Mr. Heywood chuckled. "I said call me Chris. And I'm sure I just had the same thought as you."

"You're parents killed my dad?" I whispered, staring at him.

"Your dad killed my parents," he responded, rolling his eyes. "But I promise you that's not what I think. The thought just popped into my head."

"Same with me!" I told him quickly. "I couldn't help it."

"It's fine."

"It's weird though," I said, looking out the window again. "When I thought about the other two people in the car crash, I never thought about if they had a kid or anything. I just thought 'those people killed my dad'."

"That is what's normal to think," Mr. Heywood responded. "I thought the same thing. I never thought about you or your mom. It's in the human nature only to think of yourself."

"I still feel guilty."

Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow at me. "You're an interesting person, you know?"

"Eh? Why do you think that?" I responded, staring at him.

He chuckled. "No reason."

"Okay..."

"It's a small world, no?" he suddenly said, his lips twitching.

For some reason, it sounded like Mr. Heywood had a double meaning to his words. Some kind of inside joke only he got. I pushed the thought aside and nodded in agreement, glad for the change of subject. "Yeah."

I stared at Mr. Heywood thoughtfully. So he had gone through the same grievance as I did as the same time I did. Except while I only lost one parent, he had lost both of his. I couldn't imagine what I had gone through being doubled. The thought of losing my mom was horrible. But losing both my parents at the same time? I couldn't even begin to imagine what Mr. Heywood had been through? To my surprise, tears were starting to form in my eyes. I tired to subtly wipe them away.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Heywood asked, glancing over at me.

I blushed; embarrassed I had been caught. "Nothing, I was just thinking..."

Mr. Heywood smiled gently at me. "It's all in the past now, so don't worry, okay?"

I stared at him with my mouth open. What was that smile? I took a mental picture of it, because I doubted I would ever see it again. Mr. Heywood noticed me gawking and smirked.

"I knew you would fall for my good looks."

"Who did?" I muttered, rolling my eyes.

He pulled into the gas station and pulled up next to a pump. He turned off the car and waited, staring at me expectedly. I returned his gaze with a confused look.

"What?" I finally asked.

"Go pump my gas."

"What? No!"

A minute later I was out of the car and pumping the gas while rubbing at my arm, where a bruise was sure to appear later. That guy was abusive. But somehow I was relieved that we had managed to stay away from the awkwardness of finding out how our parents were connected. If it was anyone else, I'm sure it would have been awkward. But I was very glad it was Mr. Heywood.

When I finished pumping the gas I got back into the car while Mr. Heywood put his credit card into the machine and paid. We were silent on the way back, arguing slightly at a dumb comment every now and again. When we pulled up at my house I got out of the car and leaned over before shutting door.

"Well, it's been fun working for you after school," I said, trying to sound sarcastic, even though it was the truth for me.

"What are you talking about?" Mr. Heywood replied, leaning over the seat to look at me. "This is just the beginning."

With that, he shut the door and with a small wave, began driving away from me. I waved after him for a moment, a smile slowly spreading onto my face. He was right. It was just the beginning.

________

The year is 2018, I, the author, am struggling to read through this and facing some serious second hand embarrassment. I can't believe I wrote this LOL