Chapter Two

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Mel and I are part of a handful of people who arrive for our staff meetings early. Like bad students, we sit in the back of the room where we have a clear view of everyone as they walk in. This comes to our advantage when the bobbles - our bosses who mumble and nod away like bobble heads - start doing their thing, chattering away even though less than half the staff is actually listening. Mel's a natural born shit talker and this is an optimal environment for endless sources of material.

We're definitely not the only ones being rude though. Teachers truly make the worst students. Talking, texting, cracking jokes. All behaviours I'd never accept from my own students, yet I break the same rules during these meetings. It's not like there are any consequences though. As if the dean is going to come by and confiscate my phone. I might just die laughing if she ever did.

"Ooo. Look at him," Mel says, sitting at the edge of her seat. "I think he's the new history teacher. His ass looks nice in those fitted slacks. Umm. I just wanna bite it," she clacks her teeth together and growls.

"No way. I'm not gonna hook up with anyone from work. I already told you. It's bad enough having one ex here. I don't need a collection of them." I take a swig of my 7-Eleven coffee. "He's probably gay though. His pants are way too tight. Or maybe metrosexual. Do people still say that?" He is hot though. Very clean-cut and well dressed. He probably has a standing appointment with his barber to get his hair trimmed every week to keep crisp lines like those. I wouldn't doubt he uses expensive gel too, and has more beauty products than me. Yes, I assume all this from the high quality of pressed creases in his dress pants, and the flawless hair line around a perfectly messy faux hawk.

"I haven't heard that term in a while. Metrosexual is just closer gay anyway." Mel bites into her bagel, and says through a mouthful of dough, "What about him? He is one fine specimen."

I look to where she gestured in the front row. Uh-huh. He is fine. How did we get so lucky to be surrounded by good looking men? If things hadn't gone so terribly wrong with Chase, I'm thinking this would be a promising profession to be in to land a hot guy.

But this one is taken. "He's married," I remind her.

"So. As if it matters to anyone else at work." True. With all the hook-ups, set-ups, and infidelity on campus, the stories these walls could tell would make for fascinating reality TV. The Real Teachers of Carver High. Can you imagine? That would be stinking awesome. I'd actually watch reality TV for once. A bunch of teachers sitting around thorough back glasses of beer and wine, talking crap about their students who pissed them off today, or about what Johnny's mom was wearing to the parent conference. Haha. It would be a blast.

"Well it matters to me," I tell her "I'm no home wrecker."

"Maybe I'll jump on him."

"You're not jumping on anyone."

"I know," she says through another mouthful of bagel, cream cheese smeared across part of her lip.

"Hey, ladies," Matty says "Thanks for saving me a seat." He squeezes by Mel, and then plops himself next to me. His knees almost hit the chair in front of us. These rows aren't far enough apart for people his size. I'm sure he always has this problem. Me? Not so much. Sometimes my feet don't reach the floor at movies, depending on what theatre we go to. I never have to worry about my knees hitting the seat in front of me.

"Of course we did," Mel says, winking at me. I dig my elbow in her side.

I don't say anything, but his scent makes me smile. Very earthy, like he just took a shower in the woods using man soap. I love that smell. If I wasn't a girl, I'd use it myself.

"Hey, Matt did you bring lunch today?" Mel asks him, breaking the silence.

"Nah, gotta hit the snack bar. Why?"

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