Love, Milo

With my hands in my pockets and a pang of embarrassment in my chest, I step ten minutes later into the kitchen to see Genesis, Raelynn, and Mom talking amongst themselves.

Raelynn, bronze skin glowing under the kitchen light, holds a bright grin on her face, laughing at something Genesis said. Mom stirs a pan filled with whatever she’s cooking. Neither of them seems to notice me yet.

‘Pass me the syrup behind you, please,’ Gen tells Raelynn.

I watch intensively as Raelynn turns to face my direction and freezes with her hand around the syrup.

My lips part and I try to find it in her face that shows she heard what I think she heard. Any sort of hint that she had been listening to me in the shower.

But she grins. ‘Milo, what took you so long? Your food is almost cold.’

I squint at her, confused by her question. Could it mean something, or maybe nothing at all? My head drops, clearing my throat to speak as the others turn around at her words to look at me.

‘Lost track of time in the shower,’ I resort to saying. ‘But I can’t eat now. I’m late for work.’

I walk towards the couch where my trench coat draped over the back from last night sits and throw it on. Raelynn gives Genesis the syrup bottle.

‘Are you ready, my love?’ I catch her eyes. My mom beside her smiles at my supposed affectionate words towards my supposed girlfriend. She looks better than she did yesterday after her episode. Her smile brings me joy.

She’s the real reason for this thing with Raelynn, despite me telling Raelynn some other shit excuse at the time.

Technically, I hadn’t lied, I do have an ex, her name I try never to think about. But she’s no longer around, and I hope Raelynn never notices that.

Raelynn smiles a bit, and it catches my attention.  ‘Ready for what?’ She asks me.

‘To meet my children.’

She drops the metal spoon in her hand, and it falls to the tiled floor, clanking and rattling. Genesis and Mom turn to stare at her as she looks at me.

‘Your children?’

Gen laughs. ‘His students, he means. Milo takes his job a little too seriously; those kids are practically his.’

Raelynn’s body relaxes. ‘Oh… yeah, right, teacher,’ she reminds herself briefly.

***

It’s been a silent ride to the elementary school I work at. Raelynn sits in the passenger seat at my side, and I’ve been aching to speak about this morning. Her kisses, her on top of me, the way it had nothing to do with our charade.

‘Spit it out,’ I say. She hasn’t said a word to me the entire ride.

She turns her head to me, her hair in two braids still. It makes her look almost innocent, yet I feel she’s far from it. Nothing about her grinding on me said innocence.

She turns her gaze from the window to me. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘What’s on your mind? You’re quiet.’

She shrugs. ‘Nothing.’

I breathe deeply. Why can’t women just say what’s on their mind? There’s something wrong yet finding it out is always a guessing game.

‘I’m going to ask you again; this time, don’t talk out of your ass—’

‘This morning meant nothing,’ she admits quickly, staring at the side of my face as I drive. ‘The make-out session, I mean.’

I’m struck in the heart momentarily, not expecting her words. Though, I should’ve.

Looking at her is impossible, afraid my eyes will give away my true feelings. True feelings that I’d rather just leave unknown and left in the far corner of my heart.

‘What were you dreaming about?’

‘What?’

I repeat myself, adding, ‘Whatever you were dreaming had to be why you kissed me. What was it?’

She is silent before I see her shrug in my peripheral vision.

‘I can’t remember anymore. And there wasn’t a reason… it just happened, and it shouldn’t have.’ She twists to look at me in her seat.

Her voice turns raspy, with a shake to it nearly, ‘What happened was a mistake. The other day in the store, you were telling the truth; we don’t have to do anything but pretend. Kissing you was wrong. I don’t want to…’ she trails off.

My chest hurts, and breathing becomes a difficult task. I hide it well from her, thankful I don’t have to look at her right now. ‘To what?’

‘I don’t want to…’ she loses her words again.

‘To string me along?’ I glance at her, and she nods.

I nod, understanding exactly what she means. Whatever I thought she was beginning to feel for me was an illusion. This morning was an illusion, a lie, and I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. It’s not every day a woman turns away from having me. Usually, I’m being thrown flirtatious smiles and smirks from women everywhere I go. Yet, this one, this woman who loves pickles, fights off raccoons and adores flowers to the extent of obsession, wants nothing to do with me romantically.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

‘Yeah,’ she finally confesses.

I laugh, shaking my head and stopping the car in front of the entrance of my school. Leaning over to unbuckle her broken seatbelt, I lean into her. ‘Don’t get too cocky, darling. It wasn’t serious to me either. Any woman can kiss me and rile me up it had nothing to do with you. Being more than friends has never crossed my mind.’

The seatbelt unlocks with a tug, and her body shifts; I glance down at her breast through the black shirt she wears with a wide neckline. We stopped at our apartment so she could get a change of clothes, this shirt and a pair of black trousers.

She looks like she might be a part of some sort of badass crime organization with all this black. The thought of her holding a knife to my throat appears and disappears in the blink of an eye.

‘Okay, good,’ she says. ‘Being more than friends with you hasn’t crossed my mind either.’

‘Good.’

She opens the door and steps out of the car; I go to do the same until I hear her voice.

‘Do you know another Raelynn by any chance?’ she asks, bending over to look at me.

‘No?’

Her eyebrows jump, and her mouth twists. Behind her is the school entrance, with several dozen students finding their way inside and making noise.

‘Well,’ she says quietly. ‘Next time you’re in the shower, try to think about these words of yours and keep me out of your fantasies.’

My heart stops.

She heard me, after all.

Heat crawls up my neck, seeping out my cheeks, and my throat burns from a tang of embarrassment.

‘What?’ I fumble.

She smiles, tilting her head. ‘You’re five minutes late, and the kids are probably waiting on you.’ The doors shut, and I watch her figure, shirt tucked in the waist of her trousers, carving out her curves.

Why does her disinterest in me make her more intriguing? It should stop me from wanting her like I know I shouldn’t. It’s like the more she turns me down, the more I want to win her over.

Similar to a game, she’s the objective.

It is a game that I have to play cautiously because, in the end, I either win her over or lose her entirely. And I have a feeling there are no due overs, no restates, or no hints to it at all.

If the slow game is what she wants, then fine, the slow game is what she’ll get.

Raelynn waves to a few children, and I sigh, getting out of the car.

***

I clap three times at the class filled with six and seven-year-olds.

‘Alright,’ I say loudly; getting their attention isn’t so easy sometimes. The basket of eggs filled with candy in my hand helps instantly, however.

A dozen pairs of wide eyes of excitement, along with Raelynn at my side, stare at me as I speak. ‘Some of you may notice a new face.’ I walk towards Raelynn, and she grins. Since the moment she saw them, her smile hasn’t faltered.

‘Is that your wife!’ One of my students blurts.

I stutter. ‘Um, No—’

A young boy, Robbin, raises his hand but speaks without permission anyway. ‘Mrs. Evans, do you two hold hands?‘ He says it as if it’s the most obscure thing.

‘Ewwwww!’ Haven cringes, a little girl with two puffs of curly hair on each side of her parted head. ‘I heard— I heard boys are sick. Cooties! Don’t touch hands!’ She shakes her finger from side n to side.

‘Hey! I don’t have cooties,’ Robbin exclaims, his eyes glistening with tears.

I sigh, redirecting the conversation. ‘No, we don’t hold hands, and no, this isn’t my wife. This is…’ My eyes lock with Raelynn, ‘My friend. She’s here to help you all.’

Raelynn waves and says hi to them, and they all seem to like her off the bat. Surprising. Who wouldn’t?

For the next hour and a half, Raelynn and I are busy painting eggs with terrible paintings and kids that have dirtied my shirt and marked my face. Raelynn sits on the carpet surrounded by several kids crisscrossed with aprons on; painting boiled eggs still. She’s just as dirty as me, and yet she doesn’t seem to mind it. Her hair is in a large bun at the back of her head, and a few curls and strands fall around her face. She giggles as Haven pokes her septum piercing and says she wants the same one when she’s older.

I listen to her conversation with Haven from the tables I wipe down.

‘Do do— do you have a uh… children with Mr. Evans, Mrs. Evans?’ Haven, with her high-pitched voice, asks a very personal, inappropriate question.

She’s smart for her age, extremely. She’s a grade or two above what she’s supposed to be at. Whatever her parents were doing, they did it well. Must’ve been teaching her since birth.

I look over to see Raelynn’s smile fall. ‘No, I don’t. And you can call me Raelynn; Milo isn’t my husband.’

‘Saying his first name is a bad word.’ She whispers, making it harder for me to hear her with all the chatter. I smile; I’ve told them all the same thing.

Raelynn shakes her head. ‘No, the word fuck is a bad word. If you said I love these fucking eggs, then yeah. But I don’t really know why anyone cares about cursing in the first place,’ Raelynn begins to ramble to herself more so. ‘If you’re not using it to hurt anyone, then cursing is fine.’

I need to stop this.

‘So… cursing is good?’ Haven asks.

Raelynn nods, ‘Not if you do it in front of adults— but you didn’t hear it from me.’

I straighten my back and wipe my hands on the rag going to end this incredibly ridiculous interaction just as Haven points to Raelynn’s egg and smiles, ‘I like your fucking egg.’

‘Don’t say that,’ I say loudly, making Haven jump. ‘Raelynn, what the f— crap do you have my kids saying?’

Raelynn laughs wickedly and covers her mouth. ‘Oh, come on, don’t scare the girl. She was just listening to me. Sort of.’

‘That’s exactly my point.’ I bend over and look at Haven. ‘Don’t say that word, ever. It’s bad.’

Her big brown eyes stare back at me, nibbling on her finger. ‘Sorry.’

I assure her she’s okay, then send her off and turn to Raelynn. ‘Teaching them to curse. Really?’ My words are stern and serious on the matter. ‘You’re not the one who gets to hear the shit around here, so I’d rather you not.’

She stands close, slips her hands in her back pocket, and nods. I watch her deep chocolate brown eyes, then trace the blue paint streak across her cheek.

‘Got it,’ she says softly with a smile. ‘Won’t happen again.’ She lifts her hand and makes an X across her chest where her heart is located, smirks, and then walks back to my students.

She claps once. ‘Who wants lunch? I’m fucking starving.’