A Proscriptive Relationship (43 page)

“I’m not!” I protested, glaring at Jeremy. “You’re sexually harassing me!”

“Jeremy don’t touch—” Mr. Heywood was interrupted by his own coughing fit. He swayed slightly and Jeremy quickly hopped off the couch to steady him.

“Careful,” he said, holding on to Mr. Heywood’s shoulders.

“This is so annoying,” Mr. Heywood muttered, irritation in his tone. He pushed Jeremy away from him and steadied himself. “I never get sick.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t run around in the rain for three hours,” Jeremy said with a laugh.

“It was important,” Mr. Heywood said, his gaze locking with mine.

My face immediately fired up. The image of Mr. Heywood and I kissing entered my mind, and I frantically tried to force it away. I couldn’t face him if I was thinking about that!

“Wait, what are you doing here, Jeremy?” Mr. Heywood asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Jeremy and I glanced at each other with blank expressions. Then we both burst out laughing.

“Topher, you should get sick more often,” Jeremy said, slapping Mr. Heywood on the back.

Mr. Heywood staggered forwards, collapsing over the couch. He groaned, putting a hand to his forehead. “I need Tylenol,” he said, his eyes piercing into mine again. “Holly, can you . . .? Please.”

He said please again!
“Yeah!” I told him, hopping off the couch.

He hadn’t even bothered to fix himself after falling onto the couch, so he was half-off it and half-on it. Jeremy was right. Mr. Heywood should get sick more often. It was really entertaining.

When I returned back to the living room, Mr. Heywood was asleep on Jeremy’s shoulder. A grin spread across my face as I took in the scene before me. Jeremy looked at me and noticed I was watching him. He blushed slightly, turning his eyes away from me.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t say it,” he warned.

“But you two are so cute,” I responded with a small giggle. “Mr. Heywood is so adorable when he’s sick . . . it’s a nice break from his usual attitude.”

“Should we wake him up?” Jeremy asked, prodding the side of Mr. Heywood’s head.

I shook my head immediately. “No! This is too cute.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes at me. “Holly, I’m not going to sit here all night while he sleeps on my shoulder.”

“Technically it’s the afternoon.”

“Holly, I know you know what I mean.”

I pursed my lips at Jeremy for a moment, and then sighed. “Fine, he has to take his Tylenol anyway.”

Jeremy began to shake Mr. Heywood violently. As I watched, I made a promise to myself never to fall asleep around Jeremy. If I did, I’d probably wake up with a broken neck. Just as I was about to tell Jeremy to be careful, Mr. Heywood’s eyes snapped open and he swung a fist towards Jeremy. Jeremy leaned back just in time to avoid being hit.

“Cranky Chris,” Jeremy teased, mussing with Mr. Heywood’s hair.

“I feel like shit.”

“Here,” I said, handing Mr. Heywood the cup of water and then the Tylenol.

Mr. Heywood took it without thanks. He sighed, slumping forwards. “Ugh . . .”

I watched Mr. Heywood nervously. What was wrong with him? A cold? The flu? He was only out for three hours . . . Guilt suddenly spread through me again. If I hadn’t acted like such a child, Mr. Heywood wouldn’t be sick.

“Holly,” Mr. Heywood said in a warning tone. “Stop thinking it’s your fault I’m sick.”

“Forget it,” I snapped, feeling my face grow hot. “Let’s not talk about me. Let’s . . . watch the news.”

I quickly grabbed the remote for the TV and squeezed myself between Mr. Heywood and Jeremy on the couch. The news was on. Just as I was about to change it, Mr. Heywood’s hand suddenly appeared on mine, holding it still. I looked at him curiously, but his attention was focused on the television.

“Mr. Heywood?”

“Shh, listen,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the TV.

Furrowing my eyebrows in confusion, I turned back to the screen. A reporter was talking, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. Mr. Heywood took the remote from me and turned up the volume, his mouth pressed in a straight line.

“Twenty-four-year-old Dan Daley has been convicted of assault and attempted murder. The incident occurred just last week, after a seventeen-year-old minor was assaulted in a back alley after his work shift. The teenager survived two bullets to the chest and multiple hits to the body. Daley has been sentenced to jail—”

An image of Dan appeared on the television and I gasped, my eyes widening in surprise. It was the man I had punched so long ago at the fair! He shot Lance? And they caught him? I turned to Mr. Heywood, who was still looking at the television, a smug look now crossing his face.

“This will show them,” he commented, quickly glancing at me.

“Dan, huh,” Jeremy commented, watching the TV thoughtfully. “I never liked him. He was always so cocky . . . sort of like someone else I know.” He looked at Mr. Heywood meaningfully.

Mr. Heywood glared at Jeremy and opened his mouth to reply, but instead of any words, he sneezed. Directly into my face.

“Ew!” I cried, shoving myself backwards and into Jeremy. “Mr. Heywood, what the heck?”

Jeremy burst out laughing as I wiped my face with my sleeve, making a face in disgust. No matter how much I liked Mr. Heywood, I didn’t want his germs all over my face.

“Sorry, Holly,” Mr. Heywood apologized, a smirk of amusement on his face.

I glared at him. How could I take him seriously when he was smirking like that? Mr. Heywood’s smirk grew and he laughed, which abruptly turned into a cough. My glare ceased and I looked at him in concern.

“Mr. Heywood, do you think you should go to the doctor?”

“Chrissy doesn’t like the doctor’s,” Jeremy informed me, grinning in amusement. “I doubt he’s been to one since the last time I forced him there.”

“You don’t like the doctor’s?” I asked, looking at Mr. Heywood in surprise. “Why not?”

“Never mind. Shut up and watch the television, you’re making my headache worse,” Mr. Heywood snapped, turning away from me.

Instead of feeling insulted, I became curious. There had to be a reason why he didn’t want me to tell why he hated the doctor. But I’d let him be for now since he was sick. I did as he suggested and turned back to the TV. There was no more information about Dan. I’d have to tell Lance the next time I saw him . . .

After thirty minutes Jeremy was slumped against me, asleep. Mr. Heywood glanced over at us with a frown. I returned his look with a sheepish grin, but immediately looked away, a blush spreading across my face. What was I doing? Couldn’t I even look at Mr. Heywood when he was near without blushing? It didn’t help that he looked incredibly adorable with his messy hair . . . I shook my head. I needed to break my blushing habit.

Suddenly I felt something against my lap and I looked down to see Mr. Heywood’s head there. My face heated up tenfold as I stared back up at me, unfazed.

“W-what are you doing?” I stammered.

“Resting,” he responded simply.

“Why on my lap?”

“Jeremy is using you as a pillow.”

“B-but that’s . . .”

“
I’m using you as a pillow too. Whether you like it or not. I’m sick, so just this once . . .”

I turned my face away from him, growing more embarrassed. “N-no . . . It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“
Good.”

“
And . . . I don’t mind if you want to do it again in the future.”

Mr. Heywood stayed quiet, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Why had I said something so embarrassing?
You could probably fry an egg on my face right now!

Finally Mr. Heywood chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now I’m going to sleep for a while.”

Well, since I was embarrassing myself already . . . I swallowed nervously, looking back down at Mr. Heywood. “Wait. I have, um, a question first.”

Mr. Heywood raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“
It’s about the . . . the, um . . . the kiss,” I said quietly.

“
Kiss?” Mr. Heywood echoed.

“Yeah. A while ago—”

“Oh, you mean in the classroom a few months ago?”

I stared at Mr. Heywood incredulously. Did he not remember kissing me? Was he just teasing me again? No, he looked completely serious. He was fever dreaming, wasn’t he? But wait, if he was dreaming, did that mean he was dreaming about me?

“That was just so you wouldn’t refuse to help me after school,” Mr. Heywood continued, oblivious to my furiously blushing face. “In retrospect, it was pretty selfish of me to do that, even though I really didn’t actually kiss you . . . I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” I said quickly. “It’s alright. If you hadn’t forced me to stay with you, we wouldn’t be where we are today, so . . .”

Mr. Heywood smiled at me. “True.”

“Um, anyway, you should rest,” I said, looking away as embarrassment got the best of me yet again.

“Okay,” Mr. Heywood responded with another chuckle.

After a few minutes of silence, I looked down at my lap to find Mr. Heywood’s eyes closed. I gently prodded his cheek to see if he was still awake. When no response came, I figured he was out. Glancing at Jeremy to make sure he was still asleep, I brought my face down to Mr. Heywood’s.

“Sleep well,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his forehead.

I was surprised at my own boldness. I focused my attention on the television so I wouldn’t think about the man resting on my lap. It was a hard feat, but soon I was over come by tiredness, so I just closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the sofa. Within minutes, I too was asleep.

LESSON thirty

 “
Holly
,
como estas
?”

I glanced at my Spanish teacher for a moment, trying to comprehend what she asked. After a second, I realized she was asking how I was. “Ah,
bien
. . .”

“
Estabas enferma
?”

“
Si
,
” I responded, stopping by her desk so she could interrogate me.

Casey stared me down from the back of the classroom, a frown on her face. I returned her look with a questioning one.

“
Lo siento
,” Ms. Elliot started again. “
Bienvenida
.”

“
Gracias
.”
 

“
Tienes la tarea del viernes
?”

A small sigh escaped my lips. Of course the one homework assignment I didn’t do was the one she wanted to see. “
No, lo siento
.”

“
Tráemela mañana
,” she told me with a smile.

“
Claro
,” I responded, returning her smile. Before she could say any more, I hurried to my seat.

“
Where have you been?” Casey started in an accusing tone.

“
Sick,” I responded honestly. “Didn’t you hear my conversation with the teacher?”

Casey snorted. “As if I understood that.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “How do you manage to pass this class again?”

“
Don’t change the subject. Something’s up.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“
Mr. Heywood has been out for three days now, and two of those days you were out as well?” she started, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t tell me you two were skipping together.”

“
What? No!” I responded, my eyes widening slightly. “I really was sick. Mr. Heywood—”

“
Is sick too?”

I nodded. “When I left his house on Sunday he still had a fever . . . I haven’t talked to him since because after I went home I ended up getting sick too. What?”

Casey was grinning at me like an idiot. “When you left his house on Sunday?” she repeated. “What is that supposed to mean?”

With a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was listening, I beckoned Casey closer to me. She leaned in, her eyes wide with excitement. I almost laughed at her.

“
My mom asked Mr. Heywood to take care of me for the weekend while she was gone,” I informed Casey. “It ended up being the other way around though.”

“
Really? You stayed the whole weekend at his place?”

“
Yep.”

“
Did anything happen with . . . you know?”

My heart skipped a beat. “W-what do you mean?”

“
Between you and Mr. Heywood,” she said slowly, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you think I mean?”

“
Um, nothing,” I responded, looking away. There was no way Casey could know about the gangs. What was I getting so paranoid about?

“
Oh, Holly, you can’t lie to me. Tell me!”

“
Dime
.”

Casey jumped in shock and my eyes shot up to see Ms. Elliot hovering behind her. Casey grinned sheepishly. “Sorry . . .”

“
Lo siento
,” Ms. Elliot corrected again.

“
Right,” Casey muttered under he breath as Ms. Elliot went back to the front of the room.

We spent the rest of class learning new vocabulary, which was easy. Five minutes before the bell rang, Ms. Elliot let us chat together quietly. Casey turned back to me.

“
Are you going to visit Lance today?”

I nodded. “Yeah, since I haven’t been able to while I’ve been sick.”

“
Who’s bringing you?”

“
Um, Jeremy, why?”

Casey looked at me pleadingly. “The guy I talked to on the phone before? I want to go visit Lance too, so can you ask him if I could have a ride too?”

“
I don’t think Jeremy will care,” I told her. “But we’re leaving right after school—”

“
That’s fine!” Casey said quickly. “I’m ready to go now. Are you sure he won’t care?”

I shook my head, grinning. “No, Jeremy’s pretty cool.”

“
Awesome.”