Teach Me (10 page)

             
“I got it,
Jer
, but thanks.” I pick up my bag, and I’m one of the first to get to the library. I pick a seat where I can be alone, though it is obvious that Jeremy wants to sit with me. I pull out my notebooks and start to work on my paper. It is almost done—okay, it is completely done. But I want to appear enthralled with it. We were each assigned a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay; mine was “I Know I Am but
Summer
to Your Heart.” It is intense and extremely appropriate. It starts “I know I am but summer to your heart, And not the full four seasons of the year.” You could say it hit home when I read it.

After about twenty minutes of rereading my finished paper, I roam the reference section just to move around. No one is back in this part of the library, and l take advantage of the quiet. I lean back against the bookcase and close my eyes. I feel like crying and talk myself into holding it together. I hate this so much. Cooper is all I can think about. Sure, Jeremy is being so sweet, and I should be enjoying my last year in high school. But I feel trapped in my heart and stuck in my brain. I bang my head against the spines of the books and let out a sigh.

             
“
You doing
okay back here, Ms. Starr?” I snap my eyes open to find Cooper standing next to me. He is holding a clipboard in one hand and a book in the other. I close my eyes and take in as much air as my lungs will hold. I will not cry.

             
“Yes, Mr. Perez,” I answer. He looks around, and it’s obvious we are all alone.

             
“Are you dating Jeremy Fisher?” he asks, moving closer. I can smell his aftershave, so I inhale as much as my lungs can hold, breathing him in. He is wearing a white button-up shirt
untucked
, with a tan sweater vest over it; it goes perfect with the brown corduroy jacket and dark jeans—he totally is pulling off the “sexy young teacher” look.

             
“I’m not dating anyone, Mr. Perez.” I swallow. “My boyfriend dumped me, and I am too heartbroken to move on,” I say quietly.
“Heard you are dating Ms. Sherman, maybe even a June wedding.”
Oops. I hadn’t expected that all to slip out.

Cooper takes in a sharp breath like I had hurt him. I wouldn’t normally be so bold, but I felt braver in a public place surrounded by all these books. I finally look up and see the pain of my words in his eyes. I want to tell him that I don’t how to do this or ask him what I should do. I plead with my eyes, “
Teach me, Coop . . . teach me how to not love you anymore
.”

             
“Maybe your boyfriend is just as heartbroken,” he says closer to my face. “I bet that he is still in love with you and barely making it through each day without hearing your voice or feeling your touch.” His words come out so fast I can hardly understand him. “And you have bad information if you think I’m dating Stacy Sherman. My girlfriend is busy
with school right now but had hoped she would have waited for me when she gets out in May.” I notice his hand is holding the shelf for support. Without my permission, I reach and touch it. Cooper’s eyes are closed, and he doesn’t move.

             
“I wish that were true,” I whisper, and before I know it, his face is in front of mine.
Is he going to kiss me? Maybe yell at me?

             
“I am still in love you, Ali,” he mouths the words, then is gone. I stand there, stunned for a moment until I can breathe properly. Having Cooper’s lips so close to mine has left me dizzy and my heart pounding. Back at my table, the world seems oblivious to my shattering experience. Jeremy slips into the chair across from me.

             
“You okay?” he asks. “You look like you are going to be sick.”

             
“I think I am.”

             
Christina drove me home from school, Jeremy following in my car, and I spent the rest of the week in bed. My stomach hurt so bad I was doubled over in pain; then my back would ache, and I wouldn’t be able to get comfortable. I have never missed this much school—ever. My dad is
superworried
, but I know what I am sick with.
Heartbreak.
I couldn’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with what Coop said to me in the deserted reference section. My hopes go up, then down. Up, then down again. A shattered heart can only take so much.

On Friday, Jeremy came over after school, bringing me all my homework. They were all separated into large envelopes and sealed to prevent the urge to cheat. I noticed the English envelope was the thickest. Jeremy and I sat on the couch as he filled me in on the gossip I’d missed. He confirmed what I feared—everyone assuming we were back together.

             
“I have really missed you this week,” he tells me after we have been talking for about twenty minutes. I smile weakly.
What is the right thing to do here?

             
“Yeah right,” I respond because I have been anything but “miss-able.” I’ve been a shell of myself. Jeremy moves closer and takes my hand in his, and again, I get that warm feeling.

             
“Your hands are freezing,” he remarks, then pulls me into his chest. It feels familiar, but not right, yet he is so warm that I just allow it. “I really have missed you, Ali. More than just this week,” Jeremy says closer to my ear.

             
“Oh,” is all I can say. Jeremy doesn’t say anything for a while; he just seems content to hold me.

             
“So did you think any more about the winter dance?” he asks. I wondered when he would bring that up.

             
“Oh . . . Jeremy,” I stutter. “I don’t think that is a good idea.” He turns and faces me.

             
“What about as friends?” His mysterious eyes plead with mine. I can see all the days and months we spent together in those eyes.

             
I sigh. “Let’s see how I am feeling next week.” I try to buy myself some time. Jeremy moves his face and brushes his lips against mine. I gasp and jump back, feeling sweat beginning to bead at my brow. Neither of us speaks—I think I’m in shock.

             
“I’m sorry. That was out of line,” he says, our lips still close. Gosh, I miss kissing. I debate if it is ethical to kiss Jeremy and pretend that it is Cooper.

             
“It’s okay,” I mumble, and as I say this, they touch again. “Thanks for bringing me my homework.” I lean back. He runs his hands through his hair, and I stand up, Jeremy following my lead.

             
“Feel better, okay?” Jeremy says, bending down and kissing the top of my head before
he
leaves. I sit stunned on the couch for a few minutes once he is gone. When I stand, my legs are so cramped it is hard to walk, but I stumble into the kitchen to make myself some hot tea.

             
I take my tea and homework envelopes to my bedroom. It takes me all of two seconds to rip open the English one. Inside are just a few sheets of paper regarding my actual
classwork
. The
remainder are
handwritten notes from Cooper. They are dated starting back at the first day of school until now, which means there are almost eighty notes.

             
Three hours later, I am more confused than ever. Cooper’s words were a mixture of love and uncertainty. He writes about how hard it is to see me every day, but how this arrangement is necessary. His last letter is the most troubling. It says:

If you love someone enough you should let them go. This is what I will do. I release you from feeling obligated to stick by me. Ali, it is over. Go live your life

             
I read these four life-changing sentences a dozen times. I didn’t know my heart could hurt any more, but it did.

             
I reluctantly go back to school on Monday. Everything seemed to look different, feel different. Jeremy walked me to English every day that week, and I let him hold my backpack and hand. So I’m a terrible person—I just needed some strength, and he was willing to provide it. I watched Cooper look at us every time we came in together. Hey, if he wanted me out of his life, then fine. I made a split-second decision scribbling some words on a scrap paper and tossing it on Jeremy’s desk. He snatched it and read it under his desk. I watched as his eyes widen; then he smiled, writing something back.

             
No to the dance-yes to a date.
Tonight.

             
Pick you up at seven.

             
The dance is tomorrow night, and today is the last day before our two weeks of winter vacation. I held the paper flat against my desk, not noticing
the class was absolutely silent. I looked up to find Cooper standing over my desk.

             
“Is there something more interesting than my lecture, Ms. Starr?” His voice was strained.

             
“Mr. Perez, that is my paper,” Jeremy said, quickly defending me.

             
“Then, Mr. Fisher, why is it on Allison’s desk?” The way he said my name was brutal. Like a bitter taste he couldn’t get out of his mouth. Our papers were due today at the start of class, and Mr. Perez spent the remainder of the class lecturing about, you know, I can’t even remember. The bell rings, and the rest of the students flee before any homework can be assigned over vacation. Now it was just me, Cooper, and Jeremy in the empty classroom.

             
Cooper never took his eyes off me while he spoke. “Mr. Fisher, have a good vacation. Ms. Starr, I will need to speak to you regarding this behavior.”

             
“But, Mr. Perez,” Jeremy tries again. Our teacher looked at him.

             
“That will be all, Jeremy. Please shut the door as you leave.” Jeremy gave me an apologetic look but left as he was told. I sat staring at the note on my desk, noticing how silent the room now was.

             
“I’m sorry”—I swallow—“Mr. Perez, about the note.” He sat on the desk in front of me.

             
“So you are going out with that tool tonight?” I looked up into his bright blue eyes.

             
“I was told to go live my life,” I spat and stood face-to-face with the man I still loved. “You didn’t even call me on my birthday.” My voice dropped. I know that he couldn’t, but it still hurt. I had some expectations of celebrating my day into adulthood. I had a lot of expectations that I know will never be met, and the thought is shattering.

             
“I should give you detention,” he said, and I felt my jaw drop open.

             
I felt my blush burn my
face,
and I moved closer. “Then do it.” Cooper grabbed my face and pulled me into a fierce kiss. It was filled with anger and passion for the brief seconds it lasted. I pulled his face to mine and let a thousand memories flood me. My fingers wove through his longer hair, and all I could think was,
Finally
. When he released me, I stumbled backward, and he stood. Just looking at him, hair messed up and eyes a little wild, all I wanted to do was jump him and take him on the classroom floor.

             
“Don’t think for one second that this has been easy for me, Ali.” He swallowed, and I could see tears in his eyes. “I have wanted to hold you”—his voice low—“to kiss you, to make you happy. Just be with you every single day. It is killing me.” He put his hand on his chest. “Can’t you see?” Cooper bent to meet my gaze. “I will always love you.” His fingers trace my
cheeks and touch my neck. Our gazes lock, and I want to kiss him again. “You will always be the only one for me.”

             
I’m too afraid to say anything, so I act on impulse and let my lips come back to his. This time the kiss is gentle and sweet, the anger gone and the true emotion of the situation remains—love. I pull my face away from his and find his eyes open. I am so overwhelmed that I just need to get out of here. It feels like the walls are closing in on us. I grab my stuff and make a beeline to the door but stop before I push it open. I turn to have one last look at Cooper.

             
“Coop,” I choke out. He is watching me, and I can see his eyes are filled with tears. I swallow back my own emotion. “You are the only man who will ever hold my heart.” My courage subsides, and I just about run to my car. I’m not surprised to find Jeremy leaning against it, waiting for me.

             
He walks toward me and cups my face in his hands. “Are you okay?” His face is full of concern, and I’m positive I look like a complete mess. I sure feel like one. “Did Mr. Perez . . . did he do something to you?” He holds my gaze to make sure I answer honestly.

             
I shake my head. “No.
Of course not.”
I have to pause to breathe. “I’m just not used to getting into trouble.” A smile pulls across Jeremy’s lips.