April
I stretched behind my desk. My body wasn't what it was in my teens, but this level of joint pain was comical. I was only in my mid-twenties, not my early seventies. With only four full weeks of school left before finals, I was overworked with so much to do, but so little time. To say the least, I was stressed.
The bell had rung moments before, signaling the end of school. I glanced at the clock, then to the pile of papers I had to grade looming over my desk like a tower. It looked like it would be another late night at school.
Diving right back into the thick of it, a knock on the door pulled me away from the horribly worded, argumentless thesis I was grading. It wasn't even a universal claim like it was supposed to be. It was things like this that made me question if people even read the book or listened in class.
Shane walked up to my desk with a shy smile on his face.
"What's up, Shane?" I asked, glad for the break. Covering the paper with an empty rubric, I watched as he slowly walked up to my desk.
With a slight pause, he asked, "I just wanted to ask if you were gonna come to the game next, next Thursday? The one after Thanksgiving break. It's my first time as a starter, and it's also against Mercy West."
Seattle Grace has a long-standing rivalry with Mercy West. Every game in every sport was a heated battle between the two schools. This year, we were on a winning streak, which undeniably, was quite exciting.
As the only freshman on varsity, Shane had become quite the figure on campus. Even though I was busy with my own things, I wasn't blind enough to not notice the relationship blossoming between him and Stephanie. It was the only reason that they were seated next to each other in the seating chart. I had seen Shane play before, but after my mishap with Jackson, I had stopped attending basketball games. "No pressure. I know you have a lot going on Ms. K. With school and with Coach, so I won't hold it against you if you can't come." Despite his words, I felt his disappointment. I shoved my automatic "no" down and masked my hesitation with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
"Wouldn't miss it, Shane." The teen erupted with energy. "You won't regret it!" he yelled, sprinting out the door.
Then his words hit me like a pile of bricks. "...and with Coach..." What the heck did that mean?
Now, I wasn't oblivious to the obvious tension between the two of us, but I didn't realize that the screen-addicted teenagers I taught, who couldn't bother to proofread their essays, would notice that.
Chastizing myself, I swore to be more careful. I either needed to fix my relationship or hid the tension between us better. It was imperative that I didn't become the next hot topic to some schoolyard gossip.
Grabbing my stack of essays, I piled them in my arms, ready to make the mad dash to the car in the rain.
Picking up my phone, I looked at who was calling me. Just an unknown number from Boston. Ignoring it, I reached for my things and ran as fast as I could.
Once in my car, my phone buzzed back to life. It was the same number. Waiting till it went to voicemail, I listened in on whatever the other person on the line had to say.
An all to familiar voice boomed. Quickly, I picked up my phone, pinning the cold, damp piece of metal between my shoulder and cheek.
"Hello?" I said softly into the phone.
"April," Catherine said with a hint of agitation beneath her sweet tone, "how nice of you to finally pick up the phone."
"Dr. Avery, I'm sorry. So sorry. I- uh I thought you were a telemarketer because I don't have your number saved."
"Rookie mistake, sweetheart. I hope you've saved it now because I don't want this to happen each time I call." I bit my cheek to stifle a scream.
"Sure," I drawled on. I felt my face crawl with displeasure into a frown. With my joints cracking as they did, I wouldn't be surprised if I got wrinkles from this too.
"Good," she declared triumphantly, " Now, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" I sighed, knowing full well that if I told I didn't, I would get roped into spending the weekend with her, and quite likely, Jackson as well. But I couldn't lie. For some reason, Catherine was able to see through all of them.
"Nope!"
"Then it's settled! You're spending it with us."
"I'm- What?" I stammered. She was joking. She had to be. I grabbed my phone, stretching my neck and praying I didn't develop a knot. It wouldn't pair well with the migraine I was getting from this call.
"It's depressing to eat alone on Thanksgiving, April."
Even if I wanted to go, I couldn't afford the flight. I accidentally let that slip while trying to refuse the offer.
"Oh, don't worry about that. We have a private jet." This conversation was spiraling into chaos. How rich do you have to be to casually mention that you have a private jet? Rich. I decided. Really stinking rich. "Jackson can tell you more about flight details. I have to get back to work, but I can't wait to see you." Catherine disconnected the call before I could edge in another word.
I sat shellshocked. What just happened?
Looking at the clock, I realized that it was time to go, or I would be stuck in traffic. Running back to lock the door, I scanned the room one last time, a red binder under one of the seats clashed with the gray carpeted floor. Bending over, I grabbed the spine, flipping it over once or twice to find a name. When I couldn't find one on the outside, I opened it, colorful worksheets spilling out of the overstuffed pockets.
Pulling out a homework assignment, I searched for a name. In some ugly chicken scrawl, I finally made out who it belonged to. Shane Ross.
I peeked into the gym, expecting to see a group of children running around, but only one person remained in the dimly lit room. Jackson.
His shoulders flexed as he jumped for an alley-oop. Even from the distance, I could see the slight sheen from his sweat. The ball rolled around the rim for a second, as if it was debating whether or not to fall. Once it did, Jackson picked up and dribbled the ball before spotting me.
"April." I'd been made. His voice echoed in the empty gym. I stepped out of the shadows and into the harsh light. My heels clicked on the polished hardwood floor, the rhythmic ticks buzzing in my head.
"Jackson." I swallowed my nerves, but they came rising once more. "I-I was just here to give Shane his binder, but clearly he isn't here, so I'll just go... now." I backpedaled, edging my way towards the darkness I emerged from.
Jackson caught up to me in a matter of seconds, his ball neglected and rolling behind him. He stood in my path, trapping me in the middle of the basketball court.
"Can we talk?"
I gave him a polite smile, racking my brain for a reasonable excuse. "I'm sorta busy right now. I mean... you know what I mean." He stood there, arms akimbo, looking at me with in pure adoration. I didn't know how he did it. How he just managed to melt me with just a look.
"Stop it, Jackson." I looked away to the round orange ball sitting in the shadows of the gym.
He stepped in closer, his bead of sweat rolling down his chiseled chest making me feel like a fool for resisting. "Stop what?" he said, flashing me his blinding smile.
I faltered, "Don't look at me like that. You can't look at me like that."
"Why not?" he countered, the playful smile slipping off his face only to be replaced by a ridiculous sexy smolder.
I pushed him back, "I'm working on boundaries. If you want to talk, stop trying to seduce me. I can't do this. Not here, not now. I know I'm being irrational and playing you hot and cold. I'm sorry, but I have a couple of things I need to figure out on my end. Okay?"
"Fine." Jackson picked up the orange ball, cautiously running his fingers over the tiny bumps. He dribbled a couple of times, shooting off another shot before speaking again. "My mom called."
"Already? I just got off the phone with her."
He chuckled, "She moves fast. Are you really coming to Boston?"
"I guess," I answered with a small shrug. Jackson's eyes light up, but I continued. "I'm going for the jet. I've never flown in one before."
"Ohh, you're in for a treat. There are champagne and seats that lean back."
I moaned, "Compared to all the papers I have to grade, that sounds heavenly right now."
"Yeah" Standing there in the dimly lit gym with the rain pelting the roof, we looked anywhere but at each other. "You know we're going to have to talk about what happened that night. Once you figure out your end."
"I know."
"April," he said with a clarity I didn't have. "You know I'll wait for whenever you're ready. I just want to know what's going on."
"I know," I echoed with a whisper. "I just don't know how to tell you what's going on when I don't even know what's happening."
He huffed in slight annoyance, "Can you even clue me into anything that you're thinking? Because it sucks being in the dark."
"You know how we almost..." he nodded. "My mom told me that my resolve was crumbling. And I guess she was right, but I don't want her to be right. Not about this." I ran my finger on the pages that spilled out of the binder, pushing them back in every so often.
"If the whole thing is about almost hooking up, we can go back and take it slow. It doesn't have to be this big thing, April."
"Jackson, I don't know how to go back there. Now that we've crossed that line. I just don't know if I can go back to before that."
"So you're saying that now that you've gotten a taste, you want more." "Well, if that's the case, then why don't we just set the record straight. Kissing is good. Sex is bad. Yes? No?" I laughed, not surprised that he could make everything seem so simple.
"Yea."
"Well then, this should be okay," his voice dropped back to a suggestive whisper. Stepping into my space, one hand in mine kept me from running, but my feet had no intention of moving. His fingers traced my jaw, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"It seems a little wrong to be doing this a school," I muttered, barely able to breathe under Jackson's spell. When his lips landed gently on mine, my knees did their best not to buckle.
With warm puffs of his breath traveling across the expanse of my neck, he pulled me in for a hug. Wrapped in his scent, I surrendered myself to his control. "Nobody's going to see us, April."
"It's the matter of principle, babe." He held a little tighter, just a smidge longer. "You do realize that the kids already suspect things."
"I don't care. I missed you."
With my hand clutching onto his sweaty shirt, I echoed his sentiments. Jackson reluctantly let me go. "I guess I better let you go do your super important teacher stuff."
"Hey, you also have super important teacher stuff to do!" He cracked a dazzling smile, that washed over me like the rain. We were going to be okay.
"We'll my test are multiple-choice, but your essays aren't going to read themselves. Night, April."
"Good night." With a dash, I ran back to my room, dropping off the binder into the lost and found bin. Like I had meant to twenty minutes before, I shut off the lights and locked my door.
A/N
What's up, dudes and dudettes. Lol I finished my first draft of my common app essay. YAY! I'm super stoked about this. Now, about this story. I had the concept imagined in my brain, but like that was two years ago and my dumb ass decided not to write down any of my thoughts. Who knows what's going to happen with this. If this makes no sense, I blame not remembering what the heck I wrote a year ago. The writing styles are so drastically different as well. Oh well. I blame English class for making me care about symbolism in writing and the nuances in writing.