Twissted Love

A loud beeping woke me up, causing me to fall out of bed, hitting my back on the cold hard floor. God, that hurts. This is a great way to start a morning. It's also a great way to start my first day at a new job. I glanced at the clock that rudely woke me up and the red numbers on the clock that read 7:30. Oh god, I'm going to be late. I raced out of my bedroom and hopped in the shower, not waiting for the water to get as hot as I usually like it.

The cold water hit my face, and I winced as it hit my skin, down my waist and legs. I didn't have time for that; I would just have to deal with the quick cold shower. I was in a hurry because, for some reason, my alarm clock didn't go off at 7 am and went off at 7:30. I quickly washed up, not even trying to wash my short brown hair. Making my way back into my bedroom, I grabbed the first shirt and pants I could find in my closet, including underwear. Boxers and an undershirt hugged my body as I wore the blue shirt and black pants. I didn't care about style right now; I had many more important things to worry about. After putting my clothes on, I looked at my hair in the mirror, and my brown curly hair was in so many different directions. Yikes. I need to fix this and stat.

I took some mousse from my dresser drawer, opened it, and ran through my already damp hair from the shower. I shook out my hair, and it looked better than it did when I first saw it, so I shrugged and left my room, grabbing my shoes one by one as I made my way toward the door. This would be a good day, and I'm not going to freak out over everything like I usually do. This is the start of something new. And now I sound like I should break out into a song. This is not going well. I need to stop thinking. I closed and locked my door, taking a couple of breaths and then walking toward the elevator. I dreaded that it would even open because I hate them so much. Still, it's better than walking up the seven flights that I would have to if my apartment building didn't have an elevator. As I was daydreaming about what I would try to get for breakfast before hitting the classroom, the elevator opened, and I peaked in.

The elevator opened to someone already in the elevator. I walked into the elevator, trying not to look at the man out of the corner of my eye. But how could I not glance at him? He was gorgeous. He was a tall mocha-skinned black man wearing a four-piece suit with a pocket square. I could tell that the suit was expensive by how it was made. His hair was gelled back but still curly and rested at the base of his neck, and his eyes were chocolate-colored, reminding me of hot chocolate on a cold day. I feel like I can swim in his eyes if I want to. And I'm talking this way about a total stranger. I must be nuts. Or you're in love? Nope, I'm just crazy, and my mind needs to keep its mind out of the love gutter.

My mind went somewhere else, and all I could imagine was his abs and me and him cuddling in bed. And here comes my vivid imagination to make that entire fantasy be played out in my daydream. Sometimes being gay causes me to drool at hot men, and I need to look away. This is getting creepy. I was in my little world, and I didn't even hear him say whatever he said to me. Oh, wait, shit, he was talking to me, and I was staring at him like an idiot. I blinked a few times and looked him in the eyes. And that was a bad idea. He was looking at me like I had two heads. Well, this is not going to go well.

"Are you deaf or something? I said 'Good morning" The man scoffed, not even waiting for a response. He walked off the elevator, and I knew he would never take me seriously as I stuttered, trying to find the words to say 'Good morning' back to him. Of course, I blew it; I made myself forget the whole interaction and just made my way towards the subway. It can be either a good day or a bad one, and I was going to make it a good one. If I have a good attitude about something terrible happening, maybe my day will be good.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I made my way up to the platform taking in the empty…platform except for Him. I wanted to go back down the stairs, but the sign said the train was coming in five minutes. I needed not to be late. If Catholic school taught me anything, it was not to be late. As I walked up to the platform, I remembered the principal giving me detention for being one minute late. I had to have detention with the creep of the school. Everyone thought he was hot, but he turned out to be a creep. We all heard him talking about sex with his wife in junior year, and from then on, we looked at him a little differently. Why did he have to say that it ruined the whole fantasy of being into him? I mean, it was a fantasy. No one would actually go for it, and I knew my little crush was over when my mom went to a parent-teacher conference and came back home and said he was attractive. I mean, it was just a crush. It wasn't that serious, and there was always the Spanish teacher who, to be honest, was a sweetheart.

Guess I'll have to bear it. I took a seat on a bench far away from him and buried my head in a book to escape until I heard someone, and I mean him say, "You gotta be kidding me." My face heated up, and it took everything in my power not to look up. I mean, what was his problem? I understand I was rude before, but this is too far. Even though I didn't tell to now, I'm the bane of his existence. The sound of the approaching train knocked me out of my thoughts, and I got up after putting my book in my bag. He approached me, and I just turned the music up in my headphones. I went through the train cars closing behind me. I do not want him near me. I closed the last door to the train car. I was at the front of the train. I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat down, taking a sip of my coffee. I had finally gotten away from him. "Next stop, 110 street." The announcement said. My excitement for my first day as a teacher came back like a wave, and I couldn't wait to meet my students.

The hustle and bustle of the hallways at MS Jones did not give me the whiplash I thought it was going to. There were a lot of students in the hallway coming from the staircase, yelling and screaming about not wanting to be there and why was school even invented. I mean the same, but could you get to class so it doesn't take me ten minutes to walk down the hall because I'm getting mad. I made my way through the hallways, saying 'Excuse me' to students in the hallway and not going to where they had to be in the next ten minutes. Which was class. I have no idea why they were still talking in the halls like they had nowhere to go. And then I saw a man at the end of the hallway but could tell who he was.

"Everyone goes to your classes. What are you all doing in the hallway?" A loud voice came from down the hall that I had just come from. I turned around to see who screamed like that and saw Him. The guy from my building from the train glared daggers at me. I probably looked like a student with my short self, so I tried to follow the other students, but he made his way toward me. Nope nope, can he just leave me alone? The students scattered and went into their classrooms. I wanted to run away, but he seemed like an important person at the school, so I just stood my ground. I mean, he could be the principal for all I know. Oh God, I was an asshole to my actual boss. Yeah, so getting fired. I stood my ground and braced for impact.

"What are you here for?" He looked me up and down, looking at my cheap suit with my messenger bag at my waist, the weight of my computer making the bag droop a little off my shoulder. I fixed it and gave him a short once over because cause I mean, I'm not blind he's hot. I probably looked like a short twink compared to his height. Okay, mind out of the gutter. I fixed it, licked my lips, and looked at him. Ew, eye contact is anything but that. He looked back, and I had to keep my composure.

"Good morning. I'm the substitute teacher for 707, nice to meet you. I just started here today, and unfortunately, I had a run-in with someone in my building, and on the train, maybe it hit the news already." His eyes narrowed, and I knew he knew I was mocking him. "I'm Alex Matthews." I held my hand out to him, and he surprised took it and shook my hand, squeezing a little too hard for my weak self, but I grinned through it to spite him. He was the enemy even though he was hot. I hate people who are rude for no reason.

"For your information, Alex. I'm Matthew Harris, the principal of this school, and maybe you should get on my good side if you still want to keep this job." And with that, he smirked and walked off like he won, and to be honest, he did. I was left there with my mouth agape for a few seconds before I stepped away from the spot I was standing in. I just sassed my boss. On my first day, I sassed the person that could fire me for whatever reason he wanted, and I couldn't fight it if I wanted to. My mouth closed, and I bit my lip and walked briskly through the school, looking for 707. All doors were this white color with a gray outlined window, and then finally, I found the classroom tucked away in the corner of the school. Okay, that's not creepy at all. I walked in smiling on my face, but the kids in there grimaced as I walked in, put my bag down, and wrote my name on the board.

"Hey, I'm Mr. Matthews, or you call me Mr." I turned around, and all the students were silent, staring daggers at me. And that is not creepy at all. "Alrighty then. Today we're going to start on "To Kill a Mockingbird," one of the best books I ever read in high school." One student raised their hand, and I called on them. "You know we're in middle school, right?" I was taken aback by how she was talking to me, but I just shrugged. Some kids just speak their minds. It doesn't matter how they might say it. I learned that in college.

"What do you think students in high school can't read books that middle school students do? I mean, if that was the case, no one would read." The students groaned but took out the book from their desks and started reading. As they read, I wrote up some questions to answer when they were putting them on the smartboard. Ten minutes went by, and they were all done with chapter one and ready for the questions.

"Now we're going to play a game, and if you can raise your hand and make up your own questions, your row gets the point then. Whoever gets to three-point wins." A hand rose up from the back of a girl with short hair in pigtails.

"Yes, did you have a question?" I could tell that the girl stood in front of her seat, looking ready to say a million questions she had about chapter one. Aw, I used to be like that. "So why do they call their father by his first name? It's really weird." She then sat down, waiting for the answer. I took a breath and then started my speech.

"So, wait, was your name?" She stood again. "Alice." Then she started her little rant after a flip of her sandy blonde hair. "I just hate how they call their own father his first name. In my house, if we ever did that, my father would just look at us till we backpedaled. I mean, I know they were raised in the sixties, and people used to be different around their parents, but I think they're the only family to talk to their father like that. Would they have called their mother her first name?" I pondered the way I was gonna answer her and then started to talk about how it was a different time when Mr. Harris walked in. All the students sat ramrod straight in their seats, turning their grimaces into smiles.

Of course, they like him until he's yelling at them. God, why did he have to be the principal? Of all people, why did it have to be Him? He nodded for me to finish what I was saying, so I took a breath and went into my little rant. "Atticus is the kind of father who doesn't want to be feared by his children. He wants to be respected." My eyes reached his for a second before I glanced away. His smile fell slightly from his face as he realized I was talking about him. "Respect isn't really just given. It has to be earned. I think that is what Atticus is trying to tell the kids." I saw a hand shoot up, and it was Mr. Harris. "Yes, Mr. Harris?" He walked from the back of the room, took small steps, and said, "I was just wondering how you're going to edit out the violence in this book that is supposed to be for high school students." Oh, so he's trying to get me mad. "There's only a little bit of violence, and those parts do not even come up till later in the book." Harris nodded, a sly smirk forming as he made his way to the front of the room.

"Yeah, but is it appropriate for them to read it with all the curses it has in it."

"You're just trying to get under my skin. You probably don't care what they read."

"I do care, and to be honest, I think this book shouldn't be read in this classroom or this school. Is that clear?"

He has said that through gritted teeth, and at that moment, I felt like I hated him, but at the same time, he's my boss, and I just got this job. This was gonna make me so upset, but I knew what I had to do. "Class today, we're gonna watch a movie of "To Kill A Mockingbird" since you guys can't read it." Then I walked out of the classroom, and Harris followed me. Well, this isn't gonna be good. To be honest, I needed a break from the back and forth, but he followed me out of the classroom, so what could I do?