The teacher of nothing, p.4
The Teacher of Nothing, page 4
“Miss you, Mom,” I mumble under my breath.
The fire that destroyed our home and took my mother from us also nearly took my brother, Jude.
Don’t think about bad shit.
But that only leaves Willa and I’m trying not to think about her at all. Not her supple bottom strawberry lip as she bites down on it. Not her slightly pink cheeks that flood crimson when my gaze falls on her. Not her long, dark lashes that flutter when I’m near.
I pass Dad’s house and then Hugo’s next. Even after what my father did to me, I still couldn’t escape him. Our family populates Park Mountain Lane from the turn off the main road that runs through Park Mountain, Washington, all the way to Grandpa’s old house at the base of Park Mountain itself. My house is situated between Hugo’s and Grandpa’s, where Jude lives with him. Parked out front is Dad’s golf cart, reminding me no matter how hard I try to avoid him, he’s always there.
Maybe I should take a page from my uncle Theo’s book and move to the other side of the mountain, far away from Dad. Then I wouldn’t have to see him on a daily basis, constantly reminded of how wrong he did me when I was Willa’s age.
Willa.
Fuck.
The last thing I need is to have a stupid conversation with Dad while thinking of Willa’s tight, young body I remember with precise detail from those photos.
So much for that.
At least having to speak to Dad will kill my stupid boner.
I pull into my garage, attempting to keep my anger at bay. If living on the same street wasn’t bad enough, he infects my life as though he has the right to.
Hell, I suppose he does.
This is his town after all.
Sucking in a few deep breaths, I attempt to calm myself. Talking to Dad while I’m on edge is never a good idea. I’ll say rude shit and he’ll remind me of his authority over me. Jamie or Hugo will get involved, both of them peacemakers, and I’ll end up backing off like I always do. The chip on my shoulder will grow and the cycle will continue.
I step into the house from the garage to the scent of coffee. Taking my time, I pull off my coat and hang it, along with my laptop bag, on a hook before making my way into the kitchen. Dad—also dressed in an immaculate suit—is seated at the bar.
“Afternoon, Cal.”
“Dad.”
I toss my keys on the counter and then set to making myself a cup. Dad’s stare bores into me. For him to show up at my house like this, it means either he wants something or he’s here to demand something.
“It’s been a long day,” I say once my cup is brewed and I’ve dumped enough sugar in it to make my teeth fall out. “What do you need?”
Dad chuffs and sets his cup down on the black-and-white granite with a clink. He stretches his arms out in front of him, loosely threading his fingers together. His titanium wedding ring glints in the overhead lights, always mocking me.
“Have you spoken to Hugo?”
“About Spencer?”
Dad smirks. He doesn’t look a day over forty, often getting confused as our brother rather than our father. As if he needs anything else to make his head swell.
“Spencer. Ahh, that boy. So much like you at that age.”
Spencer is a shit starter. We both know this. Dad’s dig doesn’t hit where he intends it to. I’m able to ignore it, quirking an impatient brow at him to move the conversation along.
“No, Cal,” Dad continues. “About Washington State Attorney General.”
I frown, racking my brain for the information about who Washington’s AG is. Melinda something, I think. “He didn’t mention her.”
“Not her,” he says with a chuckle. “About the upcoming campaign.”
“I’m afraid he didn’t.” I scowl at my father, hoping he lays it on me rather than delivering his demand in tiny spoon-fed doses. That shit is annoying.
“Hugo’s running for AG. He’ll be making the announcement soon at a press conference.”
“Attorney General? You sure he’s ready for that?”
Dad waves me off with his hand and then picks his mug back up, slowly sipping. “Hugo’s been ready for politics his entire life. He’s always kept his nose clean and his past is flawless. The people of Park Mountain admire and love your brother. He’s ready.”
“But…”
Dad’s lips press into a firm line and his brow furrows. If he knew this expression aged him ten years, I doubt he’d do it. I’m not going to tell the bastard.
“But Spencer is not ready.”
“And you want me to keep Spencer in line? You know that kid doesn’t listen to anyone. He’s as bad as Dempsey.”
“I’ll handle Dempsey,” Dad bites out. “Your baby brother will step in line. You all will.”
“Does Hugo even want this position?”
“Hugo knows what’s best for this family. It’s why he went into law, like me and your grandfather.”
It’s always about control with our family, my dad being the one tugging on all our strings.
“I’ll speak to him about his grades,” I grunt out. “Is that all?”
“Our family, more than ever, will have a magnifying glass upon us. We don’t need anything popping up out of the blue. Hugo can achieve this, but it’s going to take everyone doing their parts to get him to the top.”
“Noted. Is that all?”
Dad slides off the bar stool and stands. He’s not nearly as tall as me, but he’s just as solid. I sip my sweetened coffee, attempting to relax my muscles. Whenever he’s near, I get tense as fuck.
“Your mother—er—stepmother.” He chuckles. “Jamie wants everyone to meet at the house on Sunday for a celebratory dinner honoring Hugo’s new endeavor. You’ll be there of course.”
My hand tightens around the handle of my mug, my knuckles turning white. “Of course, Dad.”
He studies me for a beat, clearly disappointed that his little jabs haven’t resulted in an outburst he can belittle me for. With a quick nod, he excuses himself and leaves the kitchen, exiting through the garage door. Every time I change the code, the fucker cons one of my brothers into giving it to him. My bet is on Hugo.
I whip out my phone and fire out a text to him.
Me: Thanks for the warning, dick.
Hugo: Yeah, about that. I was going to tell you the news over a drink. Guess Dad beat me to it.
Me: Waiting eager as fuck in my house like a kid on Christmas Eve.
Hugo: I’m sorry, man. I should have known better.
Me: AG? Really?
Hugo: Not all of us have big dreams of being a high school statistics teacher.
I send him several middle finger emojis.
Hugo: Seriously. This could be good for me. For our family. I didn’t tell you because you always get pissy when Dad is involved.
He’d get pissy too if Dad stole the love of his life, put a couple babies in her, and then married her, making her his stepmom.
Me: What do you need from me?
Hugo: Get along with Dad. Be happy for me.
Me: I’m happy for you.
Hugo: Liar.
Me: I’ll get there. As for Dad…I’ll work on it.
Also a lie.
Hugo: Just help me keep an eye on Spencer. The last thing we need is some scandal popping up when I’m knee-deep in this campaign and have dumped a shit ton of money into it.
Me: Spence isn’t going to cause trouble. I’ll keep an eye on all three of those brats at school. You have my promise.
Hugo: Let’s have that drink soon. Tonight?
Me: Long day today. Friday?
Hugo: I’ll pencil you in.
Asshole.
Me: What did Jude say when you told him?
Hugo: Jude is Jude. He rarely replies to my texts and never responds to my phone calls. I’ll feel him out on Sunday.
We text back and forth for a bit while I make dinner. It’s not until he’s done chatting and I’m alone with my thoughts that they drift back to Willa.
Is that monster of a stepbrother of hers going to take more pictures?
My blood boils at the thought of him lurking over her sleeping form, moving the covers away to reveal naked parts of her. If he wasn’t seventeen, I’d whip his ass for the hell of it.
I should check on her.
Grabbing my laptop from my bag after dinner, I make my way into my home office and sit down. I have assignments to load, but first, I need to make sure Willa is okay. I open up my inbox, skip over some student questions for the time being, and draft an email to Willa.
Just making sure you’re okay. If you ever need to talk, my number is on the syllabus.
I should delete the email, not send it. But I’m not being perverted. I just want to know that she’s okay. It’s platonic. Any teacher would check in on their student after going through something like Willa did today. It’s completely normal.
She doesn’t respond, so I busy myself with my work. If I let my mind drift, I’ll get pissed at Dad or annoyed with Hugo hiding shit from me, or obsess over Willa. Once I’m finished for the evening, I grab a quick shower. I’m just coming out of the bathroom in a towel wrapped loosely around my waist when I hear buzzing from my phone. I pick it up, expecting more yammering from Hugo, but instead discover a number I don’t recognize.
Unknown Number: A little freaked out if I’m being honest.
A flash of heat ignites in my gut, burning its way through every nerve. It’s Willa. She responded. It’s such a simple text, answering my question. Benign. It assures me she’s fine. No need to delve further.
Except, I do.
Me: That’s natural. It was an invasion of your privacy, and quite frankly, criminal.
I quickly save her name on my phone. I’m waiting on pins and needles for her reply like a desperate teenage virgin talking to a girl for the first time.
Willa: Thank you for what you did today. It means a lot. I don’t have anyone who cares enough to fight for me.
Her words are a punch to my chest. How can someone so sweet and beautiful be treated that way?
Me: You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.
Willa: Good night, Mr. Park.
Me: Call me Callum when we’re not at school.
Fuck.
The dots move and stop a couple times, making me regret my last text. It’s too late to take it back now.
Willa: Does this make us friends, Callum?
My dick thickens at her text. I can almost imagine her lips curling into a flirty smirk. This is wrong. We’ve crossed a line here and I need to gingerly step back over it, creating distance between us.
But she just fucking admitted she has no one.
No. One.
Me: Yeah, I suppose it does. Get some rest.
Willa: Yes, sir.
Me: Good girl.
Jesus Christ. Do I have to keep flirting with her?
Willa: See you tomorrow. Thanks again.
I toss my phone away from me onto the bed. The last thing I need to do is reply and call her sweetheart or beautiful or anything else to get my ass in trouble. With a grumble of annoyance, I yank off the towel around my waist, grab a bottle of lube, and fuck my fist in an effort to relieve some of this built-up tension.
All it does is make me crave her more.
Fantasize about my dick inside her and her lips on mine.
I’m going to have to figure out something to get this girl out of my head. This is getting out of control.
Willa
Friends.
Such a loaded word, especially for someone who doesn’t ever make friends. Maybe to someone like Mr. Park—er, Callum—it’s a word that’s tossed around easily. But for me, it actually means something.
A friend is someone you can depend on.
Yesterday, not only did he defend me and do his best to protect me from what Levi had done, but he also checked on me later.
I’m sure texting with your student is a big no-no.
I certainly won’t be telling anyone. It can be our secret.
My skin flushes. I’m going to see him soon. With thoughts of Callum next period comes the dread of having to see Levi. I’d managed to escape this morning without a run-in with anyone in my family, including Mom, but I can’t avoid my stepbrother forever.
As the clock ticks by too slowly, I agonize over texting Callum again. Was our conversation last night just a one-time thing? Would he reply if I texted him today? I’m itchy with nerves, once again confused about this thing between us.
“Psst.”
I jerk my head to the left to find Dempsey Park smirking at me. He’s like a younger version of Callum—same floppy dark hair, though minus a few grays at the temples, same icy blue eyes, same intensity that clearly runs through the family blood. But where Callum is all fitted suits and impeccable perfection, Dempsey is the opposite.
He wears a lot of black. Black concert tees. Black, holey jeans. Black boots. Even the leather bracelets he wears around his wrists are black. Every bit the bad boy his reputation warns of.
“What?” I mouth, frowning at being the object of his attention in the middle of class.
“Got a pencil I can borrow?” His eyes flash with mischief. “Pretty please.”
I study him for a moment, wondering if he’s messing with me. Hot guys like him don’t normally talk to me. But, then again, hot teachers don’t talk to me either. Seems like it’s just one of those weeks.
“Uh, sure,” I mutter. “In my, uh, bag.”
For some lame reason, my skin flames red-hot. I lean down and dig in my bag, hunting down a pencil. A cool draft skates across my chest. It’s then I remember the V-neck shirt I wore today in my effort to be “sexy” for Callum.
And I just gave Dempsey an eyeful.
Jerking my head up, I discover him peeking right down my shirt. He bites down on his bottom lip, clearly satisfied at the show. I gasp, pressing my hand to my chest, ending his view. Mortified, I grab a pencil and offer it to him.
“Here.”
He takes the pencil, a grin tugging at his lips. “Red bra. Nice. Who are you trying to impress today, Reyes?”
Oh my God.
I want to crawl into a hole and die. Kill me now.
If I were like his sister, feisty and confident, I might tell him, “Your brother.” But I’m not. Instead, I discretely flip him the bird. He barks out a laugh of surprise, earning him a warning from the teacher.
Thankfully, the bell rings and I’m rescued from this whole stupid incident. It’s a reminder of why I wear baggy clothes a lot of the time. I don’t like bringing attention to my appearance. I like blending in and going unseen.
Except with Callum…
“Wait up!”
My hasty exit out of the classroom was a waste of effort. Dempsey easily catches up to me, slinging an arm over my shoulders. He smells like a hint of tobacco mixed with blueberry muffins, which is an odd, yet nice combination.
“Sorry,” Dempsey says with a chuckle that begs to differ. “I swear I didn’t do that on purpose.”
“Right,” I mumble. “Everyone knows you’re a manwhore.”
He laughs again. “Do they now? My reputation precedes me. I bet my dad’s super proud.”
I’m not sure why Dempsey is showing a sudden interest in me, but it unnerves me. People don’t notice me. I’ve managed to fade into the background for years. Why the sudden interest in Willa Reyes, school nerd?
“Can’t you go bother someone else?” I say, making the mistake of peering into his blue eyes that match Callum’s almost identically.
“Technically, I am.” He winks at me before turning his attention down the hallway. He does a chin lift and says, “‘Sup?”
I follow his stare to Levi. My stepbrother. His narrowed stare is on me, furious and accusing.
“Willa,” Levi growls, coming to a stop in front of us. “Stay away from Park.”
My skin burns hot. How dare this prick. He photographs indecent poses of me while I sleep, gets caught having them by our teacher, and then has the audacity to act like the moral hero in my story. Excuse me, but no.
“I can see whoever I want, Levi.” I adopt the bitchiest face I can muster. “Walk me to class, babe?”
I don’t know what’s possessed me to poke at Levi, but it actually feels good. Dempsey could blow my cover and I will die of humiliation.
Dempsey kisses the top of my head. “Yeah, babe. Of course.”
Being called babe, even by the wrong Park brother, does wonders for my ego. I stand taller and face off with the monster I live with. Levi blinks at me, a mix of confusion and rage.
“When you get knocked up or crawling with STIs, don’t come home looking for support,” Levi snarls at me.
“Don’t be a prick,” Dempsey snaps, his easygoing persona disappearing in an instant. “And stay away from my sister.”
Levi’s nostrils flare. “Is that what this is about? I fuck your sister, so you fuck mine?”
Dempsey vibrates with anger and drops his hold on me. He steps forward until he comes nose-to-nose with Levi. If I don’t do something, there’s going to be a fight.
“Stay. Away. From. Gemma.”
“Or what?” Levi taunts.
“It’ll be the last thing you do.”
A crowd has formed around us, a combination of curious students and those who are laughing, entertained by the impending fight.
“Come on,” I say, grabbing Dempsey’s bicep. “He’s not worth it.”
Dempsey considers my words and then steps back. He takes my hand, threading our fingers together. It’s all a ruse, but Levi doesn’t know that.
I tug at Dempsey’s hand, dragging him past my fuming stepbrother. The eyes of every student in the hallway are on me and Dempsey, quickly forming their own shocked conclusions. That we’re a couple.
“Care to fill me in?” I ask when we’re no longer in Levi’s earshot.
“Your brother is a dick.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. And he’s my stepbrother.”
Dempsey squeezes my hand. “Right. Step. Sorry about all that. I just…” He huffs. “He pisses me off.”
“That’s something we both have in common.” I glance up at him. “Is he really messing around with your sister?”
