That week flees without another marvel. Chores from mom and dad; remaining rejects from fall needed to be raked, escorting mom to Newton's Hardware to pick another paint color for the bathroom. Again. I suggest alabaster. I get shot down. I don't know why she brought me at all. I'm not a miracle worker. I can give her colors, but not a vision. Not what I see.

Counting Crows, Oscar Wilde and Quentin Tarantino bid for the times in between.

School is a blessing. When third period finally comes I can relax. He's there. I'm there. The universe turns in balance. His hair is shorter. His wife made him cut it. I'm sure. He enjoys pulling the whipped cascade, but no more. I mourn. I complete my assignment in record time while he sits at his desk, feet kicked back. I approach. For that entire five seconds while I walk the fake white tile I wonder what I'm doing. What I'm going to say. He tosses the green apple in the air and catches it. Faux baseball.

I hand him my paper, feeling my fingers cling tight to the paper while he removes his feet. He touches the other end. Pulls. I resist. I don't want to let go. I can't. This is how we touch. This is how we connect. This mute tug of war.

"Bella?"

"Sorry."

I release. He takes.

As usual.

"How'd you do?" He whispers. His eyes scan through his black frames.

I whisper, too, keeping our conversation private. "Okay. How'd you do this past week without school? Did you enjoy your vacation?"

He smiles. "Barely a vacation. You?"

"Cow goes moo."

He looks over the paper. Beautiful alabaster teeth appear. "What?"

"That's all I heard. One of those toys that tells you what animals say when you don't even know what the animals are in the first place."

He laughs silently, his shoulders giving me action. "I thought you were about to break into song."

"You know that song?"

"I'm twenty-eight, not a hundred and eight."

I nod.

"So how was your vacay anyway?"

"Boring."

"Boring?" He marks angry happy on my paper. One hundred. I hope he's pleased. He seems so. "I thought kids liked being out."

Kids? I dismiss it and shrug.

"I'm glad to see you rising to your full potential. You're one of my best students, Bella." He looks behind me. I glance over my shoulder. No one looks up from their papers. What he's said has been a secret. "Just don't tell anybody in here I said that."

I twist my fingers at my lips and throw away the key. "I can keep a secret."

I give him my sly dimples before turning to walk away.