The Problem with 2+2

5

"I'll see you guys later." I say waving goodbye to my friends. I sigh as I take my chemistry book out of my locker and head towards Mr. Broach's room.

The door is already propped open so I just walk in instead of knocking. Mr. Broach is sitting at his desk while a couple of other students are doing work on the computers. He looks up from the screen when he hears me walk in.

"Lea," he smiles. "Glad you came."
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"So what would you do to get them equal on both sides?"

"Um, add on three neutrons?"

"That's right. See you got the hang of this." Mr. Broach says with a wide grin. My heart picks up a little.

The last student walks out of the classroom muttering a goodbye to Mr. Broach. He gives one back.

"It's easier now that you explained it." I reply sheepishly.

"It was easy the whole time. If you weren't busy flirting with Jason, you would have got it the first time." An edge to his voice kept me from blushing. I ignored it and decided to change the subject.

"Why did you become a teacher so young?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"I'm not that young." He says annoyed.

"How old are you?" I ask trying to prove a point.

"Old enough." I rolled my eyes. He was so difficult.

"How old is old enough?" I probed.

"Old enough to be a teacher."

"Anyone can be a teacher." I say sweetly, repeating what he'd said that first day.

"That was lame." He mutters. His eyes widen. I laugh at his shocked expression.

"You're lame for saying lame." He relaxes his stiff posture. "Wow, you really are older than I thought." I say in an attempt to get him to reveal it.

"How old do you think I am?" He ask playfully.

"Oh, I don't know. Twenty six, twenty seven? Thirty?"

He smiles widely before anwsering. "Twenty four."

"Twenty four," I ask in disbelief. "Shouldn't you, like, still be in school?"

He shrugs. "Not necessarily."

"But why would you want to teach a bunch of rude, hormonal teenagers?"

"Really? Is that how you see yourself?" He ask with his head tilted slightly to the side.

"Not me. Other people."

"Oh, really? So you're not rude?"

"I'm not rude. I'm just an outspoken individual." I say defensively.

"And you're not-"

"Don't you ask me that." I interrupt him.

He laughs, and I swear it is the sexiest laugh I've ever heard. Despite the fact I was discussing teenage hormones with my teacher, it wasn't awkward at all.

"So why not kindergarten or first grade?" I probe some more.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You dodge a lot of questions." He looks at me and I can tell he's amused.

"I don't know. I just felt like I'd be more relatable. Besides, kids make me nervous."

I couldn't help but laugh at the obvious discomfort on his face.
"How do they make you nervous? They're so small and cute."

"They cry and run around like little maniacs. You never know what they'll do next." I laugh so hard, tears are threatening to spill out. After awhile he joins in, cause even he knows that sounds ridiculous.

"You know, when you're not being difficult you're actually pretty funny." I manage to say after calming down. He ignores my half insult.

"Thanks I try."

"To be difficult?"

"To make you laugh." He visibly freezes.

"Why would you want to do that?" I ask cautiously.

I feel all the heat rush to my face. I dare not look up in fear he would see how red my face had gotten. Instead I looked at my fingers in my lap, concentrating hard on the stitching of my sweater.

"Why would I want to add neutrons? Because-"

"Why would you want to make me laugh?" I interrupt.

I finally look up from my lap, but he's looking every where else but at me.

"We've wasted enough time."

"But-"

"I said enough Lea." The finality in his voice stopped me from pressing further.

The person that I was talking to only two minutes ago was gone just that fast, leaving no trace he ever existed. No matter how long it might have lasted though, I knew I was already hooked on that person.