His last lesson on love

CHAPTER TWO: THE UNEXPECTED ALLY

Kuria’s POV

The screwdriver shakes in my hand like an abandoned sword I picked off the sidewalk. It looks ridiculous—tiny, blue-and-white striped, like a toy—and yet here I am clutching it as though I just caught the person who keeps buying the last cookie from the vending machine.

The teacher doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even flinch. He leans back slowly in his chair, folding his arms. He is very relaxed. He looks at me like I’m not worth the trouble.

“So your t- the one pe- peeking up sk- sk- skirts, huh?” Again, the accusation leaps out of my mouth before my brain has time to reel it back in. But this time, my voice cracks halfway, betraying me. Come on! I was going for an assertive tone, not Cowardly the Dog!

My stomach churns. My palms are slick with sweat. This is it, I wipe them on my skirt.

Goodbye, Kuria; the earth will miss my cute, charming smile.

Goodbye, Tenten; if you replace me too quickly, I will haunt you every day.

Goodbye, the beach breeze I enjoy so much, after I told Heaven they won’t see me today.

Someone tell the world I died bravely in combat with a screwdriver. The silence stretches so long I swear I can hear my heart trying to escape my rib cage. Then—

“Brian, I—oh.”

I turn and there he is. The boy from the library.

The boy who fiddles with the library computers like he is hacking into NASA. The one I couldn’t say hi to earlier without sprinting away like a startled deer. The one I may or may not have “glanced” at ten times too many.

Now he stands in the doorway, his tall frame filling it, scary-looking eyes gazing down at me.

My brain short-circuited. “Y-you—” I stammer, pointing like I was a witness in a murder trial. “You’re the guy from the library!”

He smiles. Not a charming one, but the type of smile that screamed I- just -found -my- next -first- victim. “And you’re the girl who stares at guys in the library.”

…EXCUSE ME??

My face goes nuclear. “NO! NO NO!”

“I—! I DO NOT STARE. I glance. There’s a huge difference. Staring is creepy. Glancing is casual. Totally casual!”

He raises one eyebrow like my explanation is being filed under delusional. But he doesn’t bother arguing. Instead, he brushes right past me. Meanie.

Wow. Children have no manners these days. He goes straight to the desk and picks up the screwdriver I was ogling earlier.

Two screwdrivers. Identical.

My pulse quickens. This is no coincidence. Fate dragged me here. Or possibly witchcraft. Definitely witchcraft.

The teacher finally speaks, voice low and deliberate. “Kuria… you shouldn’t have come here.”

My knees wobble because I am wondering why he knows my name. I don’t take any of his classes.

“You’ve seen too much,” he continues, pushing his chair back with a scrape that echoes through the cluttered room.

Dang it. This is it. They are going to physically erase my memory, which sounds very painful. Or worse—dispose of me like in those creepy true-crime documentaries.

“I can leave!” I blurt out. “Right now. You won’t even know I was here. I’ll forget all of this! Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I’m basically Dory from Finding Nemo—short memory span, ha ha ha ha!”

Neither of them laughs. The teacher rises to his full height, towering over me. “Miss Kuria, this doesn’t work like that.”

The library boy shuts the door. Then twist the lock with a soft click. My soul left my body. I can see it floating out the window towards the light.

My mama always told me, if you’re in a room with a dude and he locks the door then you’re cooked.

LOCKED?! They freaking locked me in? Oh no no no no. I can already see the 7 o’clock news story tomorrow: High School Girl Missing, Last Seen Holding Lip Gloss.

The library boy’s eyes darkens. “Now you can’t leave.”

“Wh—WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T LEAVE?!” My voice screeches up three octaves. “Listen, I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Please! Please!”

My breathing increases, and my heart thuds against my rib cage. I am seconds away from throwing myself out the barred window.

The teacher leans closer, eyes boring into mine. His tone drops to something deep and terrifying. “The only option left… is to silence you.”

I freeze. SILENCE ME?!

I begin picturing headlines. Posters. t****k videos. The teary-eyed speech Tenten would give at my memorial, my mom breaking into a million pieces because I couldn’t keep my curiosity in check.

This is it. Why didn’t I just go strai- .

“PFFFT—”

The sudden noise made me jump so hard.

It came from the library boy. His lips twitch, then a snort escapes. He slaps a hand over his right knee repeatedly as his shoulders shakes violently, and laughter bubbles out.

The teacher tries—oh, he really tries to keep his serious glare. But then the corners of his mouth curve up. His chest heaves once. Twice. And then he breaks.

A full, thunderous laugh erupts from him, echoing off the walls.

I blink, still frozen, as both of them completely lost it.

“You—” the boy gasps between laughs, pointing at me. “Y-your face! It’s priceless, I thought you were about to pee yourself!”

My jaw drops to the floor. “ARE. THE. BOTH. OF. YOU. SERIOUS?!” My voice booms like thunder. “You—you terrorized me for fun? I thought I was about to be murdered because of a freaking screwdriver. You’re a teacher! You’re not meant to be terrorizing students!”

They laugh harder. Hysterical, out-of-breath, red-in-the-face laughter.

I stomp my feet like a toddler and pout my lips. “This isn’t funny! I was seconds away from summoning paramedics for myself!”

The boy is doubled over, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You were like—‘I’m basically Dory from Finding Nemo’—oh my God, I can’t breathe!”

The teacher’s laughter dies out slowly. “I haven’t laughed like this in ages.”

Heat flames across my face. I want to go six feet under. Or at least have a trapdoor open so I could escape this humiliation.

The library boy finally manages to control his laughter, though his lips still twitched. “Relax. Nobody’s spying on you. I lost that screwdriver earlier in the hallway. You picked it up. That’s all.”

My mouth opens, then closes. I overreacted. I hate how much sense that made. I always had the issue of jumping to conclusions

The teacher adds, still chuckling, “And when you barged in here accusing me, I couldn’t resist. We just… went with it.”

I exhale, pressing both hands to my face. “I hate you. I hate this. I hate both of you. I’m leaving.” I hurriedly try to wipe away the tears that escaped my eyes.

Both individuals pause when they realize I am crying.

The mood in the room shifts completely. The room goes silent.

I peek between my fingers and see the teacher’s face morph into an expression I couldn’t understand.

The boy moves closer, his expression unreadable this time, eyes sharp. “I’m sorry. Don’t be a baby about it. It is a joke.”

My grip tightens on the pencil case. Gosh, I feel silly. I can’t believe I’m crying my eyes out over a simple prank.

The teacher runs his hands through his hair. “Look, Kuri—”

Too embarrassed, I don’t wait for him to finish his statement. I run to the door, unlock it, and leave.

Today sucks big time.