13. "here we go"

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Grayson Reid Jansen

   All day, Chandler was acting a little off. I wondered if it was something I did or if someone else had been bothering him. Either way, I was keeping my distance.
That distance, though, didn't last long because as I was leaving, he yelled my name and stopped me in my tracks.

"Chandler." I spoke to him like nothing was wrong - like I hadn't been inside of his daughter every night for the past week that she's been in town.

"Hey, son." There he went, calling me son again. I still didn't know what to think of it but I assumed that's how he talked, like some people said "man" or "baby". Still, it was a little unsettling, kind of sus.

"You okay, you been on edge all day. What's up?"

He ripped his hard hat off and walked with me to the parking lot. "Just stressed. You know anything about party planning?"

"Can't say that I do, chief."

He smacked his lips. "Figured. Well, uh, as you know, my daughter's back in town-"

"How would I know that, sir?" I almost blew my cover. Immediately, my mind thought Chandler knew about Brea and I which made me nervous.

"I told you. Remember?" Duh.

"Oh, shit. Yeah. What about her?"

"Right... Well anyway, I'm throwing her a welcome home party this Saturday - you're more than welcome to come."

At first, I wondered if I should accept the invitation but decided not to right away so I could ask Breanna first.

"Thanks, I'll have to check my schedule." I said for the first time ever, knowing damn well I wouldn't be doing anything.

"Hope you can come. I'll see you tomorrow, son." Son.

He patted my shoulder one hard time then started his truck and pulled off as soon as he got inside of it.

======

Hungry after work, I drove to a pizza shop in town.

It was somewhat short, but still a line. So, I waited and while I did, I whipped out my phone and checked all the notifications I couldn't get to while at work. Brea had hit me up asking to meet up later and that she wanted to tell me something which was never good news. Already knowing what she wanted to "meet up" for, I agreed and told her to come over whenever she was ready - not that she needed to ask, as she usually just barged in anyway.

"Grayson?" A female voice called my name. I didn't recognize the voice so it threw me off as to how they knew who I was.

I looked up from my phone and saw a ginger in my face, smiling devilishly at me. Then, I realized who it was.

"Ms.Price." I tipped my head at her, smirking. Ms.Price wasn't looking too bad, either. That push-up bra she had on was working for me, I wasn't mad at the tight black dress, either.

Oh, Ms.Price was an English teacher at the school where I coached. We had a few exchanges before; some looks, innocent flirting, but nothing serious because she had a boyfriend who also happened to work at the school (gym teacher).
Apparently, he'd be proposing any day now but if you ask me, any woman who looked at me the way she looked at me was no where near ready to be married to another man. That's just me, though.

"Oh, please, call me Bethany." She was flirting hard, it was all in the body language. I knew she was making her voice lower and drawing attention to her lips by subtly puckering them and applying more red, matte lipstick.

"Okay, Bethany. Can I help you?" In all fairness, I didn't mean for that to come off so asshole-ish.

She let out a chuckle and then unfolded her freckled arms. "As a matter of fact, you can."

"Oh yeah? You gonna tell me how?"

Got to admit, I was impressed. She was really doing her thing. I mean, she did have experience. What, she had to be like, thirty-three? Yeah, thirty-three.

I moved up in the line and was next, Ms.Price — I mean — Bethany followed despite already having her food... and a boyfriend... and two other women teachers waiting for her by the door.

"Hmm, I forget. But maybe I'll remember later." She said, confusing me.

"Well, call me when you do." I thought she'd leave but didn't.

"I'd need your number." She said.
Oh, I see what she did there. Clever woman.

As she handed the phone over, I looked around and then took it from her freshly manicured hands.

I quietly laughed at the picture of her soon-to-be finale on her homescreen then clicked away from it.

"How's Jared." I asked, smartly.

"Don't concern yourself with things that don't concern you." I had to think about what she meant but ignored it altogether.

Her brown eyes stayed on me the whole time I put my number in her Samsung Galaxy s9, thinking nothing of it. Hey, if Jared found out he might be mad but it's her who owes him loyalty, not me.

Roughly, I passed the phone back but she didn't let my hand go for a good minute.

You gotta figure something must be wrong with her relationship for her to be so open with cheating like that - I mean it's not like we weren't in a public setting in the town where she taught. Someone could've recognized us and caught her. However, something told me she didn't care, really.

"See you in school, coach." Now I know that was meant to come off sexy and it did - to an extent - but, I couldn't help but sense rapey and pedophilic undertones.

I didn't say anything, only watched with the corners of my mouth turned up as she exited the restaurant. As soon as she was out of sight, she was out of mind and the slight smile on my face disappeared.

"Can I help you, sir?" Asked the short, Hispanic cashier.

I stepped up to order after asking how she was doing. "Uh, yes. Can I get a-"

======

I had just left the bathroom when Brea went in to clean herself. From the floor, I picked up my boxer briefs and slid back into them.

As tired as I was, I climbed in bed and waited for Brea to join me again.

The room was dark except the bathroom light where I watched Brea through the mirror.

"Why'd you ask to come over earlier?" I asked, picking calluses off of my palms.

I looked at the mirror and saw Brea with her back turned to the sink as she tried reaching a spot. She ran the washcloth under the running water and put it on her back, gently scrubbing until it was clean. She dried herself and then pulled on the t-shirt she came over in.

After she turned off the light, she walked over and sat criss-cross on my bed.

"Isn't it obvious?" She laughed as she asked me that.

I started to rub her thighs but my phone vibrated on the nightstand. Curious as to who was texting me to late, I took a look.

It was Bethany:

I remembered what you can help me with

While Brea was distracted by Rick and Morty playing on the tv, I texted Bethany back:

What is it?

To which she quickly replied:

This orgasm 😩

I sat straight up and started choking on air. Brea broke her neck to look back and ask if I was alright.

"I'm fine," I laughed.

I didn't like Bethany. I didn't like how she talked to me, like she was single and I was just a horny, little boy. In the same token, I liked that she knew what she wanted even if it had potential to ruin her reputation and relationship.
She was a little older, that was kinda sexy to me. And I liked that she was a teacher, a freaky one at that. Thirteen-year-old Grayson was excited to have the chance to fuck a teacher. I started thinking about how it could go down, wondering if we'd take a chance and do it in the classroom, right there on her desk, in my office, or in the locker room. The idea was intriguing. They do have showers, I thought. That could be hot...

"Shut the fuck up, then." Brea joked with me, turning back around to watch the adult cartoon.

Changing the subject, I threw my phone to the other side of the bed. "So, am I invited to this welcome back party?"

She looked upset that I knew about it but that was her own father's fault. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want you to go."

"And why not?"

She turned the tv off so we could talk.

"It's just that I don't want you around my dad in that setting, you know? It's too hot anyway, what if he's onto us?" She had a point, and it would've been valid if I didn't think she was lying. I think she forgets that I know her. I noticed her eyes dart back and forth and she gulped hard like her throat was dry.

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Lie. Chandler invited me and for good reason, I'm sure.

"I should go." She said, hopping off of the messy bed.

"Damn, without cuddling? You love to cuddle."

"I used to, and that's when I liked you."

"Oh, you don't like me now?" She shook her head but that couldn't be true. Could it?

"I literally feel nothing for you." Brea said, putting her shoes and jacket back on. She looked emotionless in the face as she flipped the hair from her back.

That was harsh.

"Even after all we've done?" I asked coldly.

She flailed her arms and looked offended. Her eyebrows furrowed, wrinkling her forehead. "Jesus Christ," she started to pace as she ranted.

"Here we go." I grumbled angrily and prepared myself for her wrath. I always hated arguing with Brea, she was too good at it.

"—You give good dick, doesn't mean I'm supposed to be in love with you. Are you really that conceited?"

For one, "good" was an understatement, I thought. Two, I was confident - not conceited.

"I just thought-" Brea interjected.

"You 'just thought' what? That because I'm a girl I can't have sex without catching feelings? Well I can, but I won't anymore. And you're childish for thinking like that."

"I didn't mean it like that, Brea." I rubbed my temples. "You always have to fucking do this, don't ruin something good."

"You're telling me what to do now?"

"You're acting like I didn't before?"

She stopped pacing and inhaled deeply, frustrated. I could tell she was mad and to be honest, it was turning me on. What? She's sexy - even when pissed.

"I hate you." Brea stormed off.

"How many times have I heard that before?" I mumbled after her.

She gave me the finger as she neared my bedroom door.

"Come back." I laughed. "I was just kidding!"

Suddenly, there were no more footsteps.The front door slammed shut.

"BREA!" I yelled.

She wasn't coming back.

"Fuck." I groaned and reached over to turn the lamp off. Rolling over, I dug my fist in my pillow to make it comfortable how I liked. I lied down and stared up at where the ceiling fan was spinning.

"Fuck," I repeated and rolled back over.

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