When Miles laughed, his entire face showed it. From the laugh lines on his upper cheek to the golden inflection in his eyes, it was everywhere. If I liked him, I would have been proud of the effect of my words, but I didn’t, so I just sat there…unaffected.
He leaned closer, his proximity almost begging me to allow just a quick scan of his strong jawline, long eyelashes, and annoyingly confident smile, but I stayed strong. Eyes on his. No need to stroke his already inflated ego.
“How’d you know I was up to ten? Don’t tell me you’re englishteacherbuttsdrivemenuts at Gmail?”
I racked my brain for a quick comeback, but all I could think of was Millie’s wildly inappropriate ham comment, and I felt my face flush.
Mr. Piper, the middle-aged balding man in front of us who was paid to teach American history but was really just there so he could coach football, turned back to Miles, picking back up on the conversation my arrival must have interrupted. “Hey, did you ski any black diamonds this weekend?”
Miles turned his attention toward him with a friendly grin. “A couple. I was almost too chicken to do that run you were telling me about. I was white-knuckling it the whole way down.”
A laugh exploded out of Mr. Piper as he turned back around in his seat. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
A large shadow suddenly loomed over us, blocking one of the harsh auditorium lights. I turned, grateful for more interruptions which would mean I wouldn’t be stuck talking to Miles—until I saw who it was: Kenneth Harvey, one of two biology teachers at Stanton. His light-brown hair was balding on top, which resulted in an impressive comb-over to the side. His fingernails were about half an inch too long for comfort. And he had breath that could kill a small rodent, which was perhaps fitting for a biology teacher. There had been rumors that someone once saw him eat something with a tail from the lab. I didn’t let my mind or my up-chuck reflex go there at that moment, however, and forced myself to smile up at him.
“Hey there, Olive—er, uh…Miss Wilson.” He threw me a shy grin. “You’re looking nice today.”
Did I mention that he had a massive crush on me? His eyes roamed curiously down my body, and I automatically folded my arms across my chest. He was a fairly harmless male species, and my discomfort stemmed mostly from him being socially clueless as to how long he allowed himself to ogle at a person.
Miles leaned across the empty seat, looking up at our visitor. “How’s the thesis going, Harv?”
Harvey’s attention shifted to Miles, and I felt my body relax, though it wasn’t long before his eyes flitted back to mine.
“Well, that’s what I came to talk with Miss Wilson about. Are you still okay to edit my thesis? You mentioned a couple of months ago that you wanted to.”
My heart sunk deep into the abyss of horridness. I had completely forgotten about agreeing to help with his thesis. That was months ago. And for the record, I hadn’t said I wanted to. I believe my exact words were, “Um…sure,” which, looking back, I could definitely understand the confusion.
With some effort, I smiled up at him. “Sure. I can do that. That’s great you got it finished.”
He grinned. “Thanks. I was having so much fun doing all the research I almost didn’t want it to end.”
“What did you write about?” Miles asked, seeming way too happy to be a part of this conversation.
“The reproductive habits of the African dung beetle.”
My face dropped.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Kenneth said, raising his hands up while he grinned at Miles and me.
“I doubt it,” Miles answered cheerfully.
“You’re thinking there’s no way I could get a hundred pages of material on the topic, but you’d be very wrong. There are actually a few different species of dung beetle, and they all mate in different ways. Did you know that the dung beetle actually buries its eggs in dung?”
“Fascinating,” Miles agreed while I shrunk further down in my seat.
“It really was.” Looking at me, Kenneth said, “Anyway, I finally finished and put it on your desk before coming here. I guess it’s a good thing we’ve got Christmas break coming up, so you’ll probably have lots of extra time.”
Yup. Extra time. I would definitely have that. Though, it would be hard deciding which was worse between spending Christmas with my mom and her new husband or the African dung beetle’s mating habits.
“I left my number on the first page in case you needed to call me about anything…or meet up sometime,” Kenneth said, staring at me hopefully.
Call him? Was it 1995? If I needed to ask him any questions—and I wouldn’t—I would text him like a normal human of my era.
“I’ll be out of town for most of the break, but I’ll let you know if I have any problems,” I said evasively.
The room was finally beginning to settle down. Pamela had moved onto the stage and was shifting boxes around near the microphone. Kenneth said thanks again and moved to sit in the middle of the room with the other science teachers.
We sat in silence for a moment. I held myself tense, begging Miles not to say anything for once in his life. But, of course, Miles could never NOT say something.
“One hundred pages all about the African dung beetle’s mating habits,” came the obnoxious voice beside me. “You’re a lucky woman with a fellow like that.”
“I think it will be fascinating,” I lied, brushing a piece of lint off my skirt before staring up at the stage, begging Pamela to begin whatever the heck this meeting was.
“Out of curiosity, how much do you charge for edits?” His low voice filtered into my ear, and my defenses immediately rose.
“Nothing. He’s a friend.”
“Really? I had no idea you two were so close.”
“Well, we are,” I clipped with a tight smile. “I’m happy to help him.”
Miles rubbed his face for a moment, looking toward the stage as though contemplating something. “Listen, it’s not my business, but just so you know, that many pages of a book to an editor costs me at least a couple hundred bucks. If you’re putting in the time, I think you should definitely be charging.”
“I’m so happy to have your opinion on something that’s, like you said, none of your business.” I leaned in closer to him and batted my eyes for effect.
He chuckled. “You know…you’re a lot nicer to everybody else but me. Why is that?”
Maybe it was because he stuck his nose in my business constantly. Or because he always made sure to tell me how I was living my life wrong. Thankfully, we were interrupted by Pamela, who was now on the stage, rainbows beaming from her round face.
“You’re all probably wondering why we called this staff meeting.” She paused and looked out at her audience, likely expecting more than the blank stares she got, but she wasn’t deterred. “Principal Harris and I were talking about how we appreciate you all so much. Every day, you show up and work so hard. The students here are so blessed…”
I zoned out after that. Pamela was a gusher. She oozed emotion. Not just emotion, but flowery emotion. Normally, that was great. She was a friend of mine, and her positive nature was usually contagious. But today, my patience was spent. Miles seemed to have zoned out as well. He leaned back in his seat with his head resting in the palm of his left hand. I’d bet if I listened closely enough, I’d hear some light snores eventually. He had to snore, right? He needed some sort of outer flaw to show the world he wasn’t perfect. Since I was almost certain he had his eyes closed, I allowed my side eye to trail disdainfully across his long, folded body squished in the auditorium seat. It pained me to admit it, but those ripped jeans fit him like they would the mannequin at one of those hip teenage stores in the mall. A store that was too cool for me even when I was a teenager. He also wore a flannel shirt rolled at the sleeves. My eyes lingered on the veins in his forearm. Miles was tall and lanky, but I suddenly wondered if there were muscles hidden underneath all the flannel.