“You should get a camera.”
“Maybe I will.”
We sat there for a moment, staring at each other, the air pulsing with electricity around us. It took a moment before I realized we were close…then closer still. Who was moving, I didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. We were being drawn together. Would he taste like he had that night?
We were a breath apart, his lips growing closer when—“Heads up!” someone yelled. We jerked back just as a Frisbee flew between us. “Shit. Sorry for the cock block,” the guy said, grabbing his runaway disk and heading away.
Zander scrambled to his feet. “I should, um…I should go.” He didn’t wait for me to respond, and then I was alone again, watching him walk away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zander
“Did you see I deposited money into your account?” I asked Mom when she called. It had been a busy few weeks and a while since we’d spoken. I’d been picking up as many hours as I could at the coffeehouse and spending my mornings jogging with Harrison. When we’d started, I’d expected it to be a one-time thing, which turned into two, three, and now close to a month had gone by, and we were still at it.
She sighed. “Yeah, I saw it. I wish you wouldn’t do that, Zander. Money is tight, but it’s not like I’m the only one it’s that way for. You’re the child, not the parent. You’re not supposed to be taking care of us. I’m supposed to be taking care of you and your sister.”
Supposed to didn’t mean shit. Dads were supposed to stick around, were supposed to care, and mine didn’t. You were supposed to be rewarded in life for how hard you worked, and it didn’t always go that way either. And in my world, no matter how hard Mom worked, she couldn’t get ahead. How did you raise a family and pay bills off minimum wage? She’d tried hard, always had, sometimes working two jobs, but since she got hurt, it was only disability pay, which wasn’t shit. Now she was in pain every day of her life on top of it.
While all this was going on, my dad was who knew where, living his best life, until he had nowhere to go. That’s when he would show up at home, and Mom would take him back—she always did. He’d promise things would be different, that we could count on him, that he’d help, and she would believe him, and then he’d prove her wrong. So yeah, I wasn’t going to bail on her and Molly the way he had on us. “It’s fine. I want to help. Plus, I’m living with Ross in a condo his dad owns, and we don’t pay rent.” I didn’t like lying, but in situations like this, it needed to be done.
“I’m glad you found such a good friend, and seriously, how did I get the best son ever?”
“You totally did,” I teased, and we shared a laugh. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. I’m getting by. Molly’s been helping the neighbor and babysitting—she really likes it—and Martha’s been helping me with things around the house. How are things going with you? You start at the school soon, right?”
The question made my pulse kick up uncomfortably and my chest feel too tight. One week, actually. I had exactly one week until I would be in my classroom, preparing for the school year, and…what the fuck had I been thinking? I couldn’t do this. I was a mess. How in the hell had I ever thought I could run a classroom? That I would be any good at teaching, and fuck…just having it all together?
“Zander?” Mom saying my name alerted me that I must have been quiet for too long.
“Sorry. Yeah. One week. I can’t wait. I miss you.”
“I miss you too, sweet boy. I’m so proud of you, the first of us to graduate from college, and now you’re going to mold young minds. You’re going to do great things. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you.”
“Thanks, Mama.” With each word she spoke, it felt like another block of pressure being added to my shoulders. She didn’t mean it that way. She was the last person to do something like that. I did it to myself. I could acknowledge that, see it, but it didn’t change the effect it had on me.
“Anything else? Any young men I should know about?”
A flash of Harrison flickered through my head. Harrison, who I was not supposed to be thinking about that way. Nope, totally didn’t want to have sex with him…which was a lie…and he was closer to my mom’s age than mine. Jesus, what would she think? Not that she would ever know, because Harrison and I weren’t fucking again, and even if we did, that was still no reason for Mom to ever know, but we weren’t and… Shit, my thoughts were spinning out of control. That didn’t happen too often anymore, not with my meds, but it did sometimes when I was really stressed out or emotional about something. That was usually a good time to go for a jog or do something physical. It always helped.
“Zander?” Mom asked again. “Are you okay? You’re taking your meds?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m feeling a little out of it, but it’s just because I have a lot going on.”
“Are you sure? Do you need something? You’re not trying to do too much, are you? Because—”
“No, no. I’m fine. I promise. And nope, there are no guys.” She always asked me that, and my reply was always the same. I hadn’t told her I’d sworn off relationships because I knew she’d feel it was her fault or that she did something wrong when she didn’t. It just wasn’t how I rolled.
We talked for a while longer before getting off the phone. I was still feeling slightly jittery and like I couldn’t calm down, so I cleaned the condo, which didn’t really need it, then headed to my room to organize some of the things for my classroom. I started thinking about clothes and what I was going to wear, and holy shit, should I get new clothes? And what if my car decided to crap out on me? What would I do then?
I picked up The Picture of Dorian Gray, which was by my futon, on the small table that was my newest thrift-store find. I tried to read, but it wasn’t happening.
I shoved to my feet, headed over to my dresser, pulled out shorts and a tee, and changed, then went to the park for a jog. I hated that everything was getting to me so badly. It made me feel like a failure, like I was going to screw up. Having my own class was totally different from when I was student teaching. This was real, permanent, just me.
Luckily, jogging helped, and I was able to clear my head and lower my stress level. I went again the next morning with Harrison. We were a bit ridiculous. So far, we just conveniently ran into each other every morning when we jogged at the same time, as if it wasn’t planned. We chatted about random things, laughed, then went on our way, still pretending we weren’t meeting up on purpose. Harrison must have been done with the games, though, because he asked, “Should we make this official?”
“Are you asking me to date you? I told you already—no relationships for me,” I teased.
“Don’t you wish,” he joked back. “Actually, I’ve decided I don’t even want to have sex with you anymore. I just like being friends.”
“Pfft.” I ignored the stab of disappointment that had no business piercing me.
“Pfft? Pfft, what?”
“Having trouble breathing while jogging?”