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“Yeah, okay, come on,” I goaded, like, let’s get on with this.
“Her name is Dr. Garcia de Martinez,” he said, then stared at me, waggling his eyebrows.
“And?” I pushed. Was this some girl I was supposed to know?
“She wasn’t wearing the engagement ring.”
“What?”
“The teacher who dropped the book on my head in San Antonio is a professor researching adults with dyslexia. She walked into the testing room wearing a tangerine suit, straight-as-hell skirt, and jacket, just rattling off the rules of the first reading test followed by an IQ test. I’m sure I flunked that because I couldn’t speak. I almost forgot my name…” His head dropped between his legs.
I let out a loud guffaw, my eyes growing into saucers. “What the hell, what?” Blowing out a breath, giving my brain a second to put the picture together: the teacher! “The, the teacher, the…”
“Yes, the very same one who left a nice scar…”
“Truthfully, you can’t even see it anymore.” I wasn’t sure why I said that.
“Who cares? The point is, she walked in with a chart on me, repeated my name a couple of times, and then detailed the program, etc., etc.”
“Are you sure it was her? Did she look the same? Did you remind her of who you are? That night?” I blurted out, shock ringing in my voice.
“Nope, she has to know. She knew who I was that night but gave no indication of it today. Again, she was so buttoned up. If she wasn’t so fucking hot, I would think she was a nun working in a Catholic school. Like I said, she had on an orangish straight skirt, but she had the same hairdo I’d seen in San Antonio. Like something you see in old women in black-and-white photos, she has shiny midnight-black hair that matches her eyes. Damn. If I couldn’t stop looking at her lips, with this soft shade that hinted at the orange in her suit. When she asked me to write my name on the top of the test, I looked at her like I didn’t know it. Like I couldn’t remember how to spell my own fucking name. I mean, she’s gorgeous and commanding and smart—but she seems injured. All my pathetic brain could think was, I’m here; your hero is here.”
“Damn, that’s some funny-ass shit. It finally happened to you. Finally!”
“Okay, Skyler, just because my teacher is hot doesn’t mean I’m falling in love…this wouldn’t be the first time I fantasized about a teacher.” He deflected.
Bullshit, I thought but took his cue, asking. “Sure…so how do you think the testing went…”
He cut me off, adding, “Based on that test, I probably have the IQ of a frog. One who’s missed a few lily pads along the way. This is why I hate IQ tests.” He added as if it explained his lack of performance.
“Why is that?” I asked, my forehead creasing.
“’Cause it’s a snapshot in time, and if a kid or, in my case, an adult is tested under stressful situations, they get a number attached to them that doesn’t truly show their capabilities. For example, the woman I’ve been thinking about for almost six months saunters into the testing room; that’s stressful shit; in no way is that score going to be valid. God, I’m supposed to go back next week and two to three times a week until the season starts.”
“Did she ever acknowledge that she’d met you?”
“Nope, not at all, but I know she knew who I was.”
“Why do you think that?”
Dwayne smirked. “She kept moving her bottom lip in and out of her mouth, sort of nervous-like. All I could think was, please, let me bite it! I’ll learn to read if I can bite that fucking lip.” He burst out laughing, and I joined him.
“Dwayne, my friend, I think you got nabbed…” I chortled, taking a long, slow pull off my whiskey. “Welcome to the life of the tormented.”
He shook his head before retorting, “Let’s move on from this. Remember, she didn’t even give me the benefit of recognition.” He arched his eyebrows, wiggling his hips on the chair. “So, big boy, what’s the big news?” His tone was reminiscent of a Hollywood starlet, as if we were lovers.
I took his cue, sparking an idea. I stood and slid in front of him, easing down on one knee. Digging my hand into my pocket, I asked, “Do you think she’ll say yes?” I flipped open the blue velvet box, my eyes absorbing the shock on Dwayne’s face.
He lit up, puckering his lips. “Jesus Christ, what a stunner. I don’t know about her, but for that rock, I’d say yes, then suck your cock.” He stood, yanking me up, enveloping me in his arms.
THE END
