All the Different Ways Read online

  “I know, Anden, I apologize. I didn’t do a good job for you today, and I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s right, you didn’t. You’ve been arguing with me and being exceptionally difficult. I wouldn’t have had to wake you up if you hadn’t made me so mad today. Don’t you understand? I’m trying to make you a better person—a better wife. When’s the last time you rewarded me for that? Said thank you? You haven’t worn any of that sexy stuff I got you in so long…or taken pictures. You know how bad my memory is. Don’t you think I need to go back and look at how hot you were?”

  I have to take a deep breath through my nose and out of my mouth to keep from vomiting. My legs are shaking under the covers and sweat is dripping down my back. I wish that I could push all of the air out of my lungs and just sink down into the mattress until it swallows me whole. I loathe the man in front of me. It burns like an open, decaying wound deep down in my chest just to look at him. I nod my head in agreement as I rot from the inside out.

  “Yes, your memories are so important, Anden. Maybe I can do something special for you this weekend? It’s only a few days away.”

  “You better figure out something. I mean, if you actually loved me, I wouldn’t have to bring it up for you to do it, but at least now you have a plan.”

  “Thank you, Anden, for waking me up to talk to me and remind me. It’s always so much better after.”

  “I shouldn’t have to at all.” He turns off my light and in a few seconds, I feel the bed dip with his weight. The covers shift, and he arranges himself on his side of the bed. I cautiously lay back down and remake my blanket burrito, but I don’t fall back asleep.

  Cullen

  “It’s way too early for this shit, Metz,” Elliot grits out.

  I roll my eyes, “Quit bitching. One more rep. There, done.” I almost mutter pussy under my breath, but Coach will probably make me run laps or some shit, so I just help him reset the bar and throw him a towel.

  Mopping off his face, he leans over on one knee, trying to look cool when I know those last three presses almost gave him a stroke. “So, did you call her?”

  “Nah, I’m not really interested. Why lead her on, you know?” I step on the treadmill and ramp up the speed to get in a quick run before school starts.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Play a little ‘Tag, you’re it’?” Elliot gets up from the bench and walks over to where I’m running. He hits the up arrow so I have to run faster.

  “Bastard…” I slow it back down. “Claire’s too commercialized for me. Not my style. Besides, how awkward would that be in a department meeting?”

  He shakes his head while I wipe sweat off my face with the hem of my shirt. “Your loss, man. Fifteen years ago, I woulda taken her up on her offer.” He flicks me with his towel and heads towards the locker room. “Thanks for the spot!”

  I call after him, “You mean, fifteen years ago and if you were me!” Ha! Claire. I know my style, my type, and she’s not it.

  ***

  Heading down the hallway to the staff bathroom in the Social Studies hall, I hear a set of heels clicking on the linoleum floor behind me, picking up their pace to match my long stride.

  “Fucking shit,” I mutter under my breath just as “Cullen, wait up!” screeches from Heels.

  I stop and turn and, yep, it’s Claire. All dressed-two-sizes-too-small Claire. Like I said, commercialized.

  “Hey, Claire, how’s it goin’?” I smile politely, cringing on the inside.

  She flicks her blonde hair over her shoulder and I’m pretty sure her boob almost pops out of her blouse. I keep from glancing down. The buttons are going to give at any minute, swear to God. I’m sure the boys in her class will love it.

  “Well, it would be better if I had gotten a certain phone call last night,” she traces her fingernail down my arm and I watch as it reaches my elbow. “But I’m sure you’re just busy with conditioning and everything.”

  “Yeah, I’m a little distracted right now.” Totally not a lie. “Bad timing, but thanks and all that.” I lean back on my heels and put my hands in my pockets. It gets my arm away from her claw.

  “Oh, well, it’s not like we can’t spend time together here and at games. Cheerleaders and football go hand-in-hand! Have a good day now, Cullen!” She winks as she walks off. What the hell? Take a hint.

  I start walking again, but go past the restrooms, rounding the corner and following the giant square-pattern of our high school’s second floor. At another intersection, I turn right. At this point, I’m just wandering, trying to stay clear of my end of the hall where Claire is probably still lurking, peeking out her door or some shit.

  I’m going to do one more lap, then go back. This is fucking stupid; I have work to do before loud, raucous teenagers appear in my classroom.

  I’m by the center stairwell leading to both the Science and Social Studies wings when feather-light footfalls on the stairs from the only teacher over here whose room is still dark has me backing up around the corner and out of sight. Apparently, I forgot my balls today.

  TWO

  Violet

  I head into work achy from my fall and dead-ass tired. The lights automatically turn on when I walk in my room, and I say good morning to Pierre, my box turtle. Crossing over to my desk, I throw my bag beneath it and sit. The chair groans. I’m staring at a black computer screen when Renee walks in looking way more fantastic than I could even dream of right now. Her dark skinny jeans are rolled up twice at the ankle, showing off what appear to be the Steve Madden quilted slippers she’s been dying to buy the last week and a half. I smile as her silk cami shimmies under her canvas jacket while she cruises through my room.

  “Hey, girl!” Renee chirps, then frowns. “Now what did he do?” She stops at my desk and leans into it with her hand on her hip. I adore my best friend, but sometimes she is way too perceptive.

  “What? Nothing, I’m fine.”

  “Honey, you forget that I know you and those eyes. Despite being incredibly gorgeous today, even Maybelline can’t hide those dark shadows.”

  Swiping some of my dark hair back from my face, I offer another weak smile and raise both hands in surrender.

  “Fine, you win. Last night was sleep deprivation. Oh! And I fell on the porch again.”

  “What the shit. Why? And is he completely fucking useless? Can’t he use a hammer and nails?” Renee sits on my desk and folds her arms tight across her middle. She is clearly pissed and I love her for it.

  “I’m supposed to be more grateful to Anden for making me a better person but instead, I complain about being called ‘Letty’ and argue too much,” I bat my eyelashes then roll my eyes. “I want to laugh at how stupid it sounds, but I’m pretty sure my sense of humor is going sour. I’m going sour, Renee.” I feel my eyes getting glassy, but I know I won’t cry. Renee knows I won’t, too, but she unfolds her arms and leans forward to give me a hug anyway.

  “You know he’s full of shit, right? And that’s not your fucking name.”

  I tell Renee I know he is, but inside I tell myself that it’s easier to just agree with him. I can make my life more peaceful by just doing what he wants. If I could just be more agreeable and do the things that make Anden happy, maybe he wouldn’t criticize me so much. The thought of conforming to his ideals, though, makes me want to vomit.

  As she releases me, I reluctantly decide to do more to accommodate Anden’s needs and make sure that there isn’t anything he can complain about. As I start to change the subject to Renee’s fabulous new shoes, I catch a glimpse of one of life’s little pleasures lurking in my classroom doorway.

  I whisper to Renee, “We’re being watched.”

  She pulls back the rest of the way, stands and turns to see who is there. Then, with a mischievous smile, she peers over her shoulder at me, “I think it’s for you.”

  She heads out with a wave over her shoulder and pats my visitor on the upper arm in way of a farewell. It looks like she mutters something to him but I can’t hea
r from this far away, so I just offer our sexy coach the best smile I have. I think it’s a pretty good one; it almost reaches my eyes, I think.

  I switch on my laptop while he enters my room. I’ve got ten minutes before my first class of kids arrives, and I don’t like the pressure of not being ready—even if Cullen Metz did just walk in.

  “What’s up 2 Color?”

  I chuckle at the nickname. This one I don’t mind. Two years ago when I got married, a couple of senior linemen from my AP Bio class took it upon themselves to deem me “2 Color” having put “Violet” and “Black”, my new last name, together. It didn’t take Cullen long to figure out who they were talking about in the locker room and took it as an opportunity to tease me. One day, I was faxing in an order for Planaria and he stepped up behind me and whispered, “2 Color” right behind my ear. Not only did my startle reflex cause me to elbow him right in the stomach, but I also yelled, “What the shit!” very loud in the front office. My principal thought it was hilarious, as did our secretaries and Cullen. However, although I was embarrassed to have yelled shit in front of everyone, it was way more humiliating to have spent the rest of the day fantasizing about how rock-solid Cullen’s abs were. It was like slamming my elbow into marble, and I wondered all afternoon what other hidden treasures he had under all those clothes.

  I must have an odd look on my face from reminiscing because Cullen is over at my desk a bit faster than usual. He squats down beside my chair. I look down at him, one of the rare times I’m not bent half-backwards gazing up into his face, and raise my eyebrows. As a former college quarterback for Wisconsin, the man is huge.

  “Hey, are you ok?”

  “Sure, I’m fine.”

  He squints at me, “Are you?”

  I take in the dark stubble across his squared off jaw. It looks like it would be as soft as his hair. I wonder if the rest of him is covered in that rich darkness or just a few spots… I meet Cullen’s eyes and we’re quiet for a little too long. The air seems to stretch like a tightening rubber band.

  “I must really look like shit if both you and Renee are on my ass this morning.” With a light slap on his shoulder—damn, he’s made of some kind of rock—I swivel towards my computer. I have to break the connection.

  Cullen stands and puts his hands in his pockets, “Not what I meant, Violet… You never look like shit…um…”

  His discomfort makes me smile, and I steal a look in his direction. Despite his tan skin, there is a rosy blush creeping up his neck. Cullen runs his hands over his short hair.

  “So, anyway…”

  “I’m screwing with you, Metz,” I interrupt, “but seriously, I’m good. Really. I just need my coffee to kick in. So, unless you want to chime in on a Socratic seminar about DNA fingerprinting for prenatal disease detection, which I would totally love by the way, I gotta get organized here.”

  I wink playfully and get the smile I was after. Cullen Metz is beautiful, and my stomach flops over on itself.

  “Yeah, ok, no I don’t wanna be in on that conversation because I don’t even know what you just said, but thanks,” he taps my desk and then starts to walk out of my room. He’s at the last lab table when he stops and turns around again. I avert my eyes and quickly pretend to type on my laptop so it doesn’t look like I am watching how his ass moves when he walks out of my room. I think he knows anyway.

  “Oh, 2 Color?”

  “Yep?”

  “I like that you’d love for me to be in your class,” his grin shows off his perfect teeth from all the way across my room. I laugh and shake my head.

  “Good God, man, why did you come in here again?”

  He backs out of my room with a smartass shrug, “See ya!”

  I roll my eyes and try to settle my butterflies.

  ***

  It’s the third block of the day, which also happens to be my plan time. After grading labs for the last forty minutes, my neck is sore, my knees are sore, and I want a break. I stand to go wander the building and get the blood flowing back into my limbs but Myah, a Junior in AP Bio, comes sneaking into my classroom. She’s a hot mess with a crazy bun for an updo, well-worn yoga pants, and a t-shirt tied off at the side. It’s surprising and all I can think is What the hell?

  “What’s up, Myah? You ok?”

  “Mrs. B, I need to talk to you. Can I talk to you?” She scurries the rest of the way in.

  “Well, yeah, I always have time for you. Come here. Have a seat.” I pull a chair up to my desk and sit back down. Circulation will have to wait.

  Myah fidgets with her hands as she sits down. She’s taking shallow breaths so I assume she’s trying not to cry. I inch the tissue box closer, fold my hands, and sit back in my chair—waiting.

  “So,” she begins, “you know I’m going out with Jason, right? For a while?”

  “Mmm hmm.” I don’t like where this is heading. There are so many awful things that can go down when a conversation starts this way. I continue to wait, however, and give her time to continue.

  “Well, a couple days ago, Hannah saw him hanging out like close and stuff at soccer practice with Mia…”

  “Wait. I’m sorry, but what’s ‘close and stuff’? I just want to get a picture in my head.”

  “Like, talking real close to her face, hugging her, touching her and sh—stuff.”

  “Ok, got it. Go ahead.” I start thinking that Jason sounds like kind of a douchebag and I’m glad I only know him by face.

  “And I was mad about it but then I was like well, they were really just talking and if they’re friends or whatever, I guess it’s not that big of a deal. And that’s what Jay said when I asked him about it, so I just let it go.”

  She keeps talking, but I zone out. I’m fixated on the fact that I know “Jay” is a douchebag because of course that’s what he’s going to say to save his ass, especially if he’s up to something. And I’m a little irritated with Myah because she’s excusing him. I started doing the same thing with Anden in the beginning, and look where I am now.

  “Last night, though, we were, like, um…” She pauses and starts picking at her nails.

  I clue back in and can guess what she’s hesitating to say, so I cut in with a sigh to spare us the awkwardness, “Yeah, ok, I get it. I don’t need the details. What did Jason do, Myah?”

  “We were making out and he called me ‘Mia’, twice!”

  “What an ass!” I clamp my hand over my mouth and mutter “sorry” behind it. Myah giggles but it’s short lived.

  “The first time was while we were kissing and I pulled back like ‘Huh?’ and then he says ‘Don’t go, Mia’ and I shoved him and called him a dick. Then I left!”

  “Good—I’m proud of you, Myah!”

  “Yeah, but today he’s all ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Your names are similar and I slipped because I was just talking to her at soccer’ and I’m like, he’s a dick!”

  “So, did you break up with him yet?”

  “No, I had to talk to you first. You’re the only one I trust to help me. I mean, I’m right, right?”

  “Yes, he’s definitely a dick. I probably should use a more creative word but you’re seventeen so whatever.” I pause and hand her a tissue. “Do you have anything of his? Like, gifts or any of his stuff?”

  “I’ve got a keychain he gave me a few months ago.”

  “Good. Take it, walk up to him in the hallway, shove it into his chest, hold it there, and say, ‘Since you seem confused, I’d like to reintroduce myself. My name is Myah, and I’m your ex-girlfriend.’ Then either wink or blow him a kiss as you walk away, it’s up to you.”

  “Yeah, that’s good, I can do that.”

  “Today, Myah, no waiting around.”

  “Ok, I will. Have you ever been cheated on, Mrs. B.?”

  “No, not that I know of, but I do know what it’s like to be called by the wrong name and it sucks. Make your point, Myah, but don’t get all crazy on him. Strong, beautiful girls don’t need crazy. They need the
boys who screw them over to learn regret.”

  “I get it, thank you. I knew I just had to talk to you to get my head right.” We both stand and she surprises me with a hug. “I just adore you, Mrs. B.”

  Well, somebody does. I watch her bound out of the door and decide to use my last fifteen minutes for a speed walk through the Science Department. I exit my door and smack my forehead right into Cullen’s chin. His hand swings out and catches my retreat…and my lower back. My skin is hot in the shape of his hand.

  “Ow, shit, Metz, what the hell?” I start to giggle because this whole day is getting more ridiculous, right down to the fact that I’m never going to get out of my room.

  Cullen must realize that his hand is still on my back because with a quick twitch, he removes it. I am wondering if he just felt the heat, too, but then I mentally start kicking myself because I shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.

  “I’m sorry, are you ok? I was just coming to see if you’re feeling better since this morning and if you are gonna make it to graduation or not, but then I heard you with a student so I decided to wait in the hall for you…” He runs his fingers through his hair like he did this morning. I watch. His throat contracts as he swallows. I watch. His eyelashes sweep over his cheeks when he blinks. I watch.

  “Violet? Was that girl ok?” He bends down a little closer so he can whisper something to me, but all I can focus on are his dark eyes and the clean smell of soap. The day is almost over. How does he still smell like clean soap? Mmm… “Did you call some dude a dick?”

  He’s still talking? I blink, “Oh, yeah, he called Myah by the wrong name, twice! He’s totally a dick.”

  Cullen straightens up but crosses his arms and leans his thick shoulder against the cement wall. “I don’t always call you by your name. Am I a dick?”

  “That’s a good question, Metz.” I flip my hair back over my shoulder, trying really hard not to smile, and put my hands in the pockets of my short denim jacket. “We aren’t in the same precarious situation that those two were in when you call me by a different name, so no, I suppose that means you’re not a dick.” He smiles. “However,” I continue, “lurking and spying outside my door twice in one day? Well…”