My Dirty Little Secret

Chapter Seven

The following day, I showed up to cheering early. We didn't officially start until 2:45, but I had nothing better to do. None of my best friends were cheerleaders, and it so happened that all of my friends that did cheer were making up tests and seeing teachers, and occupying themselves in other ways. I figured that maybe Miss Chandler would need help setting mats or something, and that maybe she would welcome the alone time as much as I would. I could dream, right?

After I'd changed, I showed up at the gym, happy to see that Miss Chandler had come early too.

"Hi, Chels," she said, smiling. I loved that she shortened my name. It seemed reminiscent of some sort of affection.

"Hi, Miss Chandler," I smiled back. "I know I'm early, I just figured I'd see if you needed any help."

"How sweet," she said, and my heart did backflips. "Actually, I--"

My phone started ringing then. I sighed. It was Ashley.

"Hold on one sec," I said, taking my phone out. "Sorry."

"No problem," she said.

"Hello?"

"Chelsea, we need to talk. I know I said we should get space, but I can't do this. I need you back."

I sighed. She was so dramatic. I knew she'd be crawling back soon, but I didn't know it'd be that soon. "Ash, I'm at cheering right now. I'll call you later, okay?"

"So you're just gonna put this off? It's important, Chelsea!" 

"Yes," I said calmly, rolling my eyes. "I am. I get out at five."

She made some ridiculous noise into the phone, indicating her disgust, but I didn't play into it. I knew she liked to blow things out of proportion, and I couldn't let her. "Bye, Ash."

"Ugh," she said. "Bye."

I hung up. "Sorry," I said again to Miss Chandler. "Ex-girlfriend."

She looked shocked and surprised, and I realized she probably hadn't known I was a lesbian. Most of the school knew, because they'd known me for a long time, but she was new. And at face value, no one ever expected it. I never dressed or styled myself in a certain way that indicated my sexuality, and I realized she must have had no idea.

"Oh," I said awkwardly. "It doesn't...I mean, you don't care, that...that I'm..."

I don't know why I was apologizing. Normally, if anyone had a problem with my sexuality, I'd tell them exactly what to do about it. But she was different, and I just wanted her to like me.

"Oh, no!" she said, realizing how she'd come off. "No, not at all, I..." she trailed off. I said nothing.

"I...I'm..." she stammered, blushing a little bit. "I know how ex-girlfriends can be," she half smiled.

____

That night, I didn't bother trying to sleep. I knew that no matter how much I tried, my mind would just be lit up with scenarios about my English teacher.

When I'd first become interested in Miss Chandler, I'd figured it was just some schoolgirl fantasy. She was too straight, too distant, too old.

And yet, I could now check "too straight" off the list. That had been what she'd meant, hadn't it? "I know how ex-girlfriends can be." She had to mean she knew firsthand.

And "too distant?" I'd spent the better half of the week touching her. And the way she'd felt up my leg? Someone had told me a long time ago that  when two people cheer together, awkward comes out of the question. Distant seemed out of the question, too.

"Too old" remained, but there was nothing I could do about that.

Still, was it stupid of me to think that this fantasy could actually start to become real?

By the time 3:00 am rolled around, I'd exhausted myself enough into getting some level of consciousness that resembled sleep. Of course, when I slept, I dreamed about her in vivid detail. I was looking into her ice blue eyes as she ran her fingers through my hair. I felt a chill as she pulled me closer to her, and I swear I actually felt our lips meet. When they did, it was euphoria. 

Then, of course, I woke up. Ready for another day of chasing fantasies, only this time, on two hours of sleep.

_________

I was the first one into homeroom the next day, attempting to do a complete 180 from the first day of school. When I walked in, Miss Chandler was on the phone, and she sounded angry. I didn't know if I should leave or not so I stood there in the threshold of the room, unsure of what to do. She didn't seem to notice me there; she was too absorbed in whatever spirited debate she was having with the person on the other line.

"Kate, I don't have time to deal with this right now, okay? You're constantly doing this to me, and I can't deal with it anymore. No, you're not. I know I did. I don't care. Why? Because I'm not! I...Kate! Look, I'm at work. I can't do this right now."

And then she hung up. She looked distressed, and while maybe I should have given her space to deal with it, something pulled me further in. 

"Miss Chandler?" I called tentatively.

"Chelsea!" She almost screamed. So she hadn't noticed me.

"Sorry," I said, for frightening her. "Are you...are you okay?" 

I hated being in that position. It was awkward. I never knew how to help.

'Yeah," she said, and I could tell she was lying. "I'm...fine."

I stood there for a couple more seconds, not knowing what to do. She forced a smile. "You can come in, you know."

I laughed, awkwardly. "Okay." 

I put my bag down, then turned in my seat to face her. "Do you want to talk?"

She smiled wistfully. "That's alright," she said. "It's not your problem."

"It doesn't matter," I offered. "I'm a good listener."

She sighed. "It's just...Have you ever been with someone, and all you do is fight? And you wonder why you're even together if all you do is drive each other crazy?"

I almost laughed. Ashley. She'd perfectly described my life for the past three months. "Oh, yeah. Definitely."

"It's like, why do I even bother, you know? I deserve better than that. Don't I?"

"Of course you do," I said, and I wanted to follow up by saying "You deserve me," but I didn't. "You're an awesome person. Seriously, Miss Chandler, anyone would be lucky to be with you, and if they don't know that, they're not worth your time." I was spilling my heart out, under the pretense of giving sympathetic advice. I made it sound as though I was just being nice, but really, I was telling her exactly how I felt.

She smiled, and it looked more genuine this time. We were close at this point, really close. Close enough, again, to kiss. And this time, I swear we almost did. In any other situation, I would have closed the gap, but I knew that this was something that could get her into trouble, and if ever in my wildest dreams we were to kiss, I knew it had to be her decision, not mine.

A different expression came into her eyes, a more nervous one. A shade of crimson took over her cheekbones, and she pulled away. She forced one more cordial smile, and put a hand over mine. It was my second choice, but I'd take it. I still felt sparks flying when our skin touched. "Thanks, Chels," she said.

"Of course."

Other people walked in then, so I laid that whole conversation to rest. Not that I could stop thinking about it, but I did stop talking about it.