Loving Mr. Daniels - Page 30/83

When we’d bumped into each other outside my classroom, I’d seen the confusion hovering in her gaze. Then, when I’d waited for her to leave Henry’s office, I’d seen the sadness implanted there.

“First day of school already got you drinking alone?” Randy joked, walking to the fridge and opening it to pull out two beers. He slid one my way.

“Yeah,” I muttered, still staring out the window.

“You need to get laid.”

I shot my eyes to Randy, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m good.”

“No.” He shook his head back and forth. Grabbing a chair from the table, he swung it around and sat. “You need sex. What happened to that chick who came to the concert on Saturday?”

I cringed. “Don’t call her a chick.” A chick was what you called a girl who you didn’t give a crap about. Ashlyn wasn’t a chick. She was so far from just a chick.

She was smart.

She was funny.

She was intriguing.

She was so, so far from being a chick.

“I’m telling you though. Your aura is all off.” He waved his hands around my head, and I sighed. Randy was talking his mumble jumble again. “It’s f**king depressing.”

I took a chug of my beer and placed it back on the table. “And to fix this, you suggest…”

“Sex. Lots and lots of sex.” He said it so matter-of-factly that I had to laugh. “Seriously, Dan. When was the last time you got laid? I’m not even sure if you have a dick anymore. I’m telling you, it’s not healthy. I should know. I studied this in college.”

“One class, Randy,” I stated. “You took one online course on human sexuality and now you’re a professional?

A loud clap came from his hands and he sat up straight in his seat. “A naked music party!”

“No,” I said, pointing at him.

“What?! Come on! We haven’t had one in years!”

“Exactly.” When we were younger and I had my first apartment on my own, Randy and I would have jam sessions with some beautiful women who…would be naked. After Sarah passed away, I’d been a little lost, and Randy had been positive that the best way of getting my mind off of death was to replace it with sex and music. One of his many different beliefs. It wasn’t my proudest moment of my past. “No naked music parties.”

He laughed. “Fine, fine. Well, I also took a course on aromatherapy and can prescribe you with some essential oils to help ease your stress levels.”

“I’m not stressed,” I argued.

“A little eucalyptus oil, rosemary, and sweet almond oil in a bath would do you wonders. In the bathroom closest, I have jars of different types of flowers that you can float in the bath, too. Each one is labeled with its healing descriptions.”

My mouth hung opened and I narrowed my eyes. “Are you sure you have a dick?”

He chuckled and shrugged. “I get laid at least five times a week. I have healthy skin and a calm, peaceful lifestyle. Plus, my sexual performance is—”

“Shut up. Just…stop talking. Please.”

“Okay okay… What about”—he held his hands up—“massage therapy 101. Straight guy to straight guy—let me loosen up your back muscles.”

“Oookay, on that note…” I leaped from my seat and tossed the beer down on the table. “I’m going for a run.”

“It’s pouring outside!” Randy argued.

“The best runs are in the rain,” I said as I headed toward my room to change into my running gear.

“Oh, right. Of course. Well hey, if you happen to run into a vagina, ask it to invite you in for a little conversation. And by conversation, I mean sexual intercourse!”

The rain clouds lifted, leaving puddles that I ran through until I returned back to the property. I stood in front of Dad’s boat shed and opened up the doors. The boat hadn’t been out of the shed since Mom had passed away. I’d thought about selling it a few times. Hell, I’d thought about selling the house altogether, too.

But who would sell their parents’ dream?

The place was already in jeopardy with the taxes and all. My teaching job and my weekend band gigs were the only things that were helping me keep the possibility of holding on to the property. I felt like there were so many times I’d let my parents down—I couldn’t lose their house on top of losing them, too.

It wasn’t an option.

I walked into the dark space. My fingers traced the edge of the landlocked ship and my lips involuntarily frowned. This beauty wasn’t supposed to be locked away, kept from the one place that made it feel free, alive. The water was its home. Yet I kept it locked up, trapped inside a wooden box.

“Sorry, buddy,” I muttered, pounding my hand on the side. “Maybe next summer.”

Maybe.

No promises.

Chapter 11

Getting along fine with my here friends,

Don’t give a damn if the world decides to end.

~ Romeo’s Quest

“I don’t understand why we’re still going,” I argued to Hailey, who was pulling me toward Theo’s house party. He’d been caught cheating on her in the lunchroom, yet she still found the need to drag me to his place two weeks later.

Peeking through the windows, I saw a bunch of people from our high school, drinking, making out, and doing everything one would expect to see at a high school party.

Why didn’t anyone ever throw reading parties?

I would be all over that crap.

“I told you. He texted me last night apologizing. I think I just misunderstood.” She’d misunderstood his tongue in her ex-best friend’s mouth? “Besides, Ryan is here, too.”