Page 48 of Teaching the Teacher's Pet

“It’s allowed to upset you,” he replied. “And you’re allowed to want an apology—one that’s more detailed than a simple ‘sorry.’”

The entire weekend, I wanted to make Alex work for my forgiveness. It wasn’t often that we came to a disagreement like this—nothing this important had ever come up before. We’d stumbled upon that road, and maybe Connor was right. Maybe I let it go too quickly. But if the choice was letting Friday go or having to explain the nitty gritty past of Jade and Madison and cheer squads, I’d choose the former.

And explaining that to Connor…it meant delving deeper into the situation than I wanted to.

So I shrugged. “Well, I already forgave him. What now?”

“You can still play hard to get,” he said. “Nothing major. Nothing bad. Like, maybe the next time he offers to hang out, say you’ll think about it before instantly saying yes. Sometimes just that ‘I’ll think about it’ line is more exciting than an instant yes, you know?”

No, I didn’t get it. “Why would that be exciting?”

“There’s a sort of anticipation to it. Will you say yes? Will you say no?” Connor’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Exciting.”

There was anticipation in that? Excitement? It all sounded stressful, complicated, and super annoying. I wondered if this was how students felt trying to learn math.

Before I had a chance to respond, a voice coming from the hallway had me freezing—more specifically, aname. “Madison, I’m so glad it was you who stopped by. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, sweetie.”

Connor and I both jerked toward each other, our thoughts following the same trail at the same rate.Madison.

I shot up so fast that it was a wonder my chair didn’t tip over, but I wasted no time before grabbing Connor’s wrist, dragging him toward the only door in the room—the storage closet. Praise God it was unlocked. It was pitch black, the perfect space to hide in.

The only problem was that the area, packed with boxes and mid-sized sculptures, was the size of a measly coat closet, and there was hardly room for two teenagers to squeeze into. As soon as Connor tugged the door shut behind him, he shuffled directly into me, nearly knocking me over. I bumped into a shelf, causing the contents to clatter. There probably was a light switch, but I was afraid the glow would be visible from underneath the door, so we stood in the dark.

“You didn’t have to hide,” Connor whispered, his voice startlingly close. His warm breath tickled my neck, his sandalwood scent was everywhere. The combination of the two caused a shiver to bolt across my skin. “It wouldn’t have been weird for her to see you here.”

“It was instinct, okay?” I hissed back, shoving blindly. My hand connected with something firm—his chest? “Do you have to stand so close?”

“I currently have a sculpture poking where pottery shouldn’t poke, so, yes, I do.”

“Oh, I wonder where she went.” Mom’s voice seeped through the thin walls, causing Connor and me to tense. “She was tutoring someone in here.”

“That’s great that she’s still doing that,” Madison told Mom kindly, but the discomfort in her voice was clear. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Where do you want me to put this box?”

“Oh, any of these tables,” Mom replied, and her voice sounded a bit louder, as if she drew nearer. “Thank you for dropping off these drawings. I was going to ask Maisie if she could pick them up for me.”

I couldn’t help but huff, and Connor jumped at the soft sound.

“I’ve been meaning to stop by the gallery for a while. This totally suits you, Mrs. Matthews. I know doing something with art has always been a dream of yours.”

She was doing with my mom exactly what her mom had done with me once upon a time—bringing up history that had long since been buried.

When Connor drew in a breath, his chest brushed against my arm, and there wasn’t any more room to inch backward. However, in the buzzing white noise of the quiet, my heart kicked up in its beating. Surely it was because Madison was on the other side of the door, seconds from stumbling upon us, and not because I was literally chest to chest with Connor. It made me think of earlier today on the staircase, how he’d hauled me back against him. Now, it was the same sensation. I couldn’t tell if it was his heart beating fast or if it was mine.

He shifted again, only this time when his chest grazed my arm, I jumped. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Shh!” I slapped both of my hands against his chest, as if the action would chase the sound out of the air. But it only brought us closer, and I could feel all the firm, taut muscle of his torso underneath my splayed fingers. Rachel had mentioned how nice Connor’s butt looked in his football uniform when she really should’ve been talking about how toned his shoulders were.

Holy…

And then—horror. Icy horror, washing all over me like a bucket of ice water. Because my fingers still pressed against his body and my thoughts still hiccupped on the verge of insanity, and I actually audiblyswallowed. I snatched my hands back and crammed as far from him as possible, debating on whether walking out of the closet and facing Madison would be as bad as staying in it.

“Well, I should get going,” Madison said. “But I’ll be sure to swing by again soon so you can give me a proper tour.”

I closed my eyes. Thank God this was almost over. And thank God that the closet was dark enough to hide my no-doubt flaming cheeks.

“Let me put this box in the storage closet and I’ll walk you to the front,” Mom said, and it took me several seconds to realize that she meant this closet. The same one we were standing in.

And before I even had a chance to react, the closet the door was already shuddering, trying to open inward but getting stuck. I didn’t move, waiting for her to unjam it and stumble in, finding us in the awkward, compromising position.

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