Sugar Boo

3

When I look back at my sophomore year, it wasn't like I didn't want to devote my time to worry about school. It was just that my mental focus was way higher on hangouts and video games in which there was, without any doubt, much more fun. And if there was anyone to blame for me gluing my butt on a couch playing video games for six hours straight, it was definitely Ethan.

I swear I tried to refuse his requests countless times but somehow I could not bring myself to it and boy, he was very persuasive and when I say persuasive, I really mean it. The football captain would get down on his knees, put on his best puppy eyes, and beg me like a fricking child.

Fast forward, I made myself a promise that procrastination would be a habit that I would kiss goodbye since junior year was supposed to be all about college preparation -- the GPA, SAT and ACT tests, college searching, extracurricular, volunteering, and all that stressful stuff.

"And you're going to want to add half a cup of milk," the voice of Mr. Gilinsky instructed his students, "Careful, don't spill it on the floor."

"He's so effing hot," Elle blurted out and I was quick to shoot her with a dirty look.

"Don't you agree, Andy?" she glanced at me and then poured the milk from a beaker into a Ziploc bag that I was holding.

Our AP Chemistry teacher -- yes, I took AP Chem because I wanted to bring my GPA up and I hoped that would help me have a good college profile -- was truthfully one of the most good looking men I'd ever seen.

It didn't surprise me at all how Mr. Gilinsky could take the school by a storm in a short period of time. Lots of thirsty girls constantly flirted with him and some boys in this school were green with envy of the young teacher.

"Elle, you do realize you have a boyfriend, right?" I reminded her as my eyes flickered over to the next lab table.

Ethan and his partner were at each other's throat about the correct order to mix the ingredients into the Ziploc bag as if Mr. Gilinsky didn't put out a clear and well-written lab manual for all of us.

His sour face brightened up immediately when I was caught red-handed by him and nervousness filled my gut when Ethan threw me a friendly wink. I couldn't comprehend how often he got me to break out in a cold sweat while he was only doing the bare minimum.

"It doesn't mean I want to hook up with him. Am I not allowed to appreciate another male beauty other than my own boyfriend?" Elle stressed, snapping back my attention to her.

"Sure." I cleared my throat and tried to shake the odd feelings Ethan put in me away.

I let his girlfriend take the bag from my hold and Elle proceeded to add some sugar and vanilla extract into the milk before sealing the bag tightly. "But only if Ethan's okay with it," I said further.

Elle sighed deeply. "Andy, I know you care about your best bud but, Ethan and I already talked about it. I'm allowed to admire a good looking guy and he can like as many slutty pics on Instagram as he wants."

I decided to drop the topic after learning how strong their trust game was. I wasn't going to let Elle mistake me for prying about their relationship and on top of that, I was worried she would tell Ethan about this conversation which could result in him being mad at me.

Maybe I was being too paranoid but what if he told me to back off from Elle? It's not that I had no faith in our friendship but I seriously didn't want that to happen. Losing the two of them would put out the light in my life.

Elle surprised me when she placed a bag of ice to the side of my neck making me nearly jump out of my skin. I sent her a confused look while she struggled to compose herself from laughing so hard.

"You're zoning out," my lab partner noted and she passed me over the bigger Ziploc bag filled with ice.

She smacked her lips. "I've already added some rock salts in. Now I want you to put the small bag inside of the larger one and seal it up then you have to shake it for about ten minutes."

I frowned after hearing her bossy instructions. "Wait, why am I the only one who has to do it?"

"Because I don't want to make myself look ridiculous," Elle answered back sharply.

We put on a pair of insulated gloves and I did as I was told before realizing that we were a bit ahead of our other classmates. Just to be clear, I couldn't handle attention directed towards myself very well, and being the only person making a loud noise in the room wasn't helping either.

Having everyone's inquisitive eyes straight on me had me slowing down the mixing process.

"It says shake vigorously here," Elle muttered while pointing into the manual.

Mr. Gilinksky strode up to us with a hefty smile. "You guys need any help?" he asked, examining what I was doing.

"It's fine, sir. Nothing we can't handle," Elle answered him as I forced a nod, agreeing with her.

He shook his head. "Both of you won't get to eat ice cream any sooner if he's doing it like that," he made a comment to me.

Elle and I shared a shocked look when Mr. Gilinsky started to unbutton his cuffs and rolled up his grey shirt sleeves to reveal his thick tattoo-covered forearms. Elle's eyes got wide as she mouthed something about her ovaries exploding causing me to immediately roll my eyes up towards the ceiling.

"Let me do it, Andrew." Mr. Gilinsky took the bag from my hands and our eyes briefly met. I could feel my stomach swirl with uneasy warmth.

Shortly my teacher began and it concerned me to see him energetically shaking the Ziploc bag like he had a long time feud with it. His chiseled face wore an intense expression, both arms flexed with the effort he put in and I couldn't help but be drawn into staring at his rounded pecs pressing against the tight-fitting shirt of his.

What the hell, did I just check him out?

"Next time you don't hold back, Andrew. This is how you do it. Hard and rough," Mr. Gilinsky told between his rocking act, smiling at me.

Oh snap, did I get caught?

"We have to shake it hard so that the ice cream mix will freeze quicker, right sir?" Elle butted in.

"Correct, and also with the help of rock salt. The salt cools the ingredients enough to harden them and turn them into ice cream," he explained expertly while she stared at him in awe.

Elle continued to observe his movement, mainly focusing on his tattooed forearms. "I'm dying to taste it, sir and I'm happy our group will have the smoothest ice cream for today."

Mr. Gilinsky laughed under his breath. "Don't get too excited. I haven't decided if I will let you guys taste it yet since the ice cream belongs to me now 'cause I'm the one making it."

"What?" she asked, blinking her eyes in surprise.

"You should've seen your face. It was only a joke," he told her then he switched over his attention to me. "You don't talk much, do you?"

Sorry, if my silence was too loud for you, I mentally responded.

I made an effort to scratch my head when I realized that I had gloves on. Dumb, Andrew strikes again. "I'm just checking you out, I mean, checking out the way you demonstrate it."

Now it's certainly the perfect time for me to go stand in the middle of a crossroad and get run over by a bunch of muscle cars. What the hell was that Andrew? I should've had a comeback with something funny, not giving him a creepy vibe.

"Anyway, I'm looking forward to taste your ice cream cone, sir. I guarantee you I won't let a single drop go to waste," I told Mr. Gilinsky without being fully aware of how sexual I sounded.

Elle snorted and I sensed that my teacher looked disturbed. Oh my God, that came out wrong. I started to feel heated up. I might be looking like the actual red hot chili pepper in a physical form.

"I think I need to check on other students," Mr. Gilinsky said before he handed over the bag to Elle and moved to another table in front of us in silence.

"Bro, you scared him away," Elle whispered to me afterward and we shared a good, secret laugh throughout the entire period.